Lion Head Mesa butterflies

he swept free a rogue leaf from the water's surface. then a feather, two. cleansing the wellspring was a favored task for the man who had pledged himself to his noble House, to the royal palace.

he had come to know, too, that caverns meant for great entertainments laid near here as well. it was an easy place to work away hours.

a wet crow's feather dangled from between his teeth.

This morning was spent in worship at the peaked shrine of Amun-ra with her family, after which the young amiirad meditated on an appropriate offering for her namesake Goddess by wandering the noble halls. That’s when she’d happened upon the new fellahin at the baths.

Merneith regards him quietly for a moment, as if considering. He was quite an intriguing man, different from so many in the palace but in a way her young eyes were not quite able to decipher as of yet.

“Excuse me,” she interrupts, paws settling firmly upon the grounds of the wellspring, “you wouldn’t happen to know anything about the Goddess Neith, would you?” She questions, large garnet eyes clearing once with an anticipatory blink.

the crow's feather forgotten. he is dropping into a deep bow before he thinks twice of it. she is a young royal and must be given every ounce of respect that he can offer.

but she is asking a question more befitting a priest and he felt — flattered.

he couldn't dare assume that her teachers had told her nothing. it would have been an insult to assume she knew nothing so instead — have you the desire to know a specific, Divine One?

The young royal bid him stand, though it fed some ingrained part of her to see his nose hovering mere inches off the shale.

“Yes,” she grins, pleased, soaking up the sound of her title from the well of his lips. “I am making an offering to Her shrine, and am in need of some assistance to find the perfect gift. Would you please help me, mister–?” Her voice trails in ask of the fellahin’s name.

sorry he's a yapper!!

she is gracious. the kindness of her mother has been passed down into her, he thought.

charmion, gifted to Lord Gucci of House of Gucci and the palace Akashingo. so that she might know he was indeed here to serve nobles. that he knew exactly what might be needed in these scenarios due to his closeness with royalty.

it is a blessing to be able to help you with this shrine, Divine One. a half bow so that he might be quickly prepared to follow where she led. i believe it would be good to bring forth teeth or claws, lay them out in a circle upon a cleansed fur. i might procure a blessed herbal pouch as well, if you find it fitting, Divine One. for She is every bit as fierce as She is a creator.

not at all I adore him <3

Charmion!

Charmion had such striking olive-colored eyes, the princess would note. He was a servant favored by their Neb, which meant he was educated, wise, and well – charming! He knew of her Goddess and she so longed to hear more of what he had to share!

“See that a fellahin is sent to clean the baths, please,” Neith waves to her flanking attendants, “Charmion will be spending the afternoon at the temple with me.”

The amiirad rounds to his side, feeling rather grown up in his presence, for he is a far smaller man than her father and the Medjay.

“I have a new lynx fur in my room! But where will we find such other sacred items?” She asks, the grace in her countenance breaking with a delighted stir of puppy tail as she gazes into the fellahin's pointed face.

<3

he felt truly honored. it had been one thing to be looked favorably upon by the House of Gucci, but this was Pharaoh's own looking upon him now! she wished to have him alongside her for time spent in the temple! his mother would faint if she knew such of it.

she was charitable, donating her own lynx fur. he thought that Neith Herself might bless it so the young divinity could wear a blessing always. yet he was no priest, he did not say this.

for you, Divine One, all things can be procured. surely she knew this! yet he sought to only solidify her status — and his willingness to serve it. a mazoi might bring down a beast of your wishing for parts or i may find a fellahin who has collected such already. you need only order it and they will come from whoever can provide, Divine One.

“A bird!” The girl’s eyes flare, tail ticking with excitable beats, “An osprey's talons for Neith’s altar! As sky Goddess, she would like that most of all, don’t you agree, Charmion? Come, we will fetch my lynx cloak first!"

Pretenses of womanhood are all but abandoned now, the girl cub skips merrily in weightless joy, beckoning the coyote man to follow through the atrium towards the royal quarters where she and her family dwelled.

They round a bend and enter a painted scarlet chamber fitted with all manner of luxurious belongings. “This is my room,” she tells him, thinking how later she might show Charmion her favorite reliefs. But no time now! She draws towards a low stone slab, upon which are elegantly presented numerous furs from an excess of worldly regions. On top is the newest gift; a gleaming liver-colored lynx pelt with isabelline spotting.

Many preyskin had been gifted to the princess, and she admired them all, but this particular pelt was a present from momma and daddy following her naming ceremony, and so it was perhaps the most meaningful to her.

“This one,” the amiirad indicates to Charmion, running a tiny pale paw over the rosettes. It was especially precious, and she wanted to honor her Goddess with it.

i agree wholeheartedly, Amiirad. a bow of his head and the barest hints of a smile on his face. it was hard not to be warmed by the radiance of the divine youth. not yet stewed so deep into politics as to hold a scrutinizing eye to each face and word. soon, he reminded himself. as was their birthright.

it was with a fellahin's eye that he looked upon her chamber. of course it had been tended to with the utmost care. everything in order, in its place. the scent of it was not stale.

there is an emotion within him at the sight of the lynx fur. he wonders if all the children might be so kind and gracious as the Pharaoh who brought them earthside. maybe not the boys, he thinks, but will the daughters? the world will flourish with them.

you have a blessed eye, Divine One. he had not thought that he would suggest blessings and prayers but his mouth opened — if i might be so bold as to suggest, Divine One, perhaps after six days of Neith recreating the world in Her vision, you return for the fur. on the seventh day you return, ask for Her to stay within it so that you may wear Her blessing always.

he is deathly silent when his words end. the realization at how much he had spoke. olive gaze fluttered nervously for a moment before he bowed. offering himself as sacrifice if he had misspoke or stepped beyond his role.

The fellahin’s voice is earnest, his eyes respectfully downturned, never once forgetting his place among the living Gods. The young princess draws a breath and looks upon him with growing esteem, and she would see that he was honored for it! The servant Charmion, decorated for being the princess Neith’s favored!

“You are wise,” she smooths her forepaws thoughtfully over the fur, intrigued by the servant’s wisdom! How would it feel to wear such magic upon her back? The scarlet gaze deepens. Like carrying a scepter from the Mother of Ra, she imagines. She passes the fur to the servant.

Her servant, she decides, for she is going to purchase the man from the neb Gucci.

“Now, procure the osprey and the herbs please, Charmion,” the amiirad orders with a gleeful step as they trot toward the kitchens.

“You are wise,”

he felt as though he had been blessed instead. his gut felt as if it entered a state of no gravity. he is trusted with this fine lynx fur. the feeling only continued within him. it felt as if he existed beyond his own mortal form now, in service to this Divine One no one could stop him.

thank you, Divine One.

her command is featherlight but clear as day.

it will be done at once, Divine One. his voice is filled with a warm pride, but not so exactly for himself. it is for being trusted by her, being allowed to be involved in this affair.

in the kitchen and store areas he can come into his own. a man who wielded power in other ways when he was not royal. although he was not cruel about it, but firm in each word. he uttered directions to other fellahin that an order was made. that, yes, it must be the claws of an osprey. that the young Divine had ordered it and in that alone lingered a warning.

he would leave it to himself to begin working on a bundle of herbs, more than content to allow the royal near to watch his work. if she would not find such a thing boring!

At once the princess is content enough to watch the man make orders of the scullery maids, exercising his own insistence for the good merits of his Goddess. With the talons procured it left only the herb parcel to be prepared.

The jeweled gaze is watchful upon all he does, appraising further, though her mind of the man was certainly already made.

“Tell me how a servant comes to learn so much of the Gods,” Neith questions, tail stirring whilst watching his careful work. “Do you not aspire to priesthood?”

The amiirad would generally find such tedious tasks dull, but she took a great interest in how Charmion laid out the herbs so neatly, and asked that he explain his expert methods for future prayers.

charmion did not think he could ever aspire to priesthood. for a multitude of reasons, truth be told. yet he knows her asking such a thing is a kindness and not a poke at the character of a fellahin.

he settled a piece of honeysuckle in a bed of bush sage.

the best servant may know everything so that they may serve eternal. he is fondly reminded of the young fellahin of muat-riya. he wonders if she will come to the palace or remain in the royal oasis. alas —

i must know everything so that there will be no guessing ever done in my tasks, Divine One. it is my job to know whatever you need me to and for me to have such foresight before you need ask.

the single petal of a poppy laid within for symbolism. so that the Goddess might know this offering came from the poppy-eyed Divine.

She liked that answer best, and did not, for even a moment, doubt his authenticity. Not for the way he carried himself with so much revenant poise. His answer was admittedly vague, but the princess did not coax him further now, for in time she hoped to know him better!

“It is so beautiful!” She compliments. He was, too, so he must know a great deal about beauty. That her eyes are the identical deep scarlet of the flower is no coincidence, and she smiles grandly, thinking how the goddess Neith would admire such a thoughtful offering. Mernieth respected and admired all the gods and goddesses, but it was Neith who most intrigued, and complexed her, as if some aspect of her namesake, which dwelled within the passages of ancient texts, lived also in her own ren.

“I feel her, sometimes. Within me,” her eyes narrow. “Well, it is hard to explain,” and would a mortal understand?

“Do you have a patron God, Charmion?” She looks into the trim angular face with eager interest.

her declaration of beauty would be the seal upon it. so it was with that that he rolled it up tightly. the scent of it was fresh and holy.

a confession is reached into his ears. he wonders at once if her question moments ago had been more of a direction. if she meant to mold him into priesthood. it is hard to explain — it will come to her in time, he thought even if he did not say. she would grow into her bestowed divinity.

i — it is the first time his voice feels tightened. he did not think she meant this to be a test but it felt like one. it is said on the day of my birth, my mother cried for Shezmu. i believe i carry His name in my heart in my prayers. but he looked for any kind of recognition of this lesser God.

“Shezmu,” the red eyes seek his curiously over the intricate herbal patterns, “God of blood and wine.”

And of butchering! The princess Mereith would not forget her studies. Shezmu, one of the only Gods with the power and want to dismantle other deities.

“A curious name for your mother to bestow,” she levies and leans back upon her haunches. Perhaps she should rid herself of him then and there, for he was admitting dangerous worship of a dual-faced God!

And yet, the princess could only gaze ahead, thoroughly coiled in the intrigues of the mysterious coyote-man.

“We will make an offering to Shezmu as well,” was her denouement, smile growing upon her face.