Lion Head Mesa well, i know what you want from me

not sure if @Toula would've returned by now or not but tagging just in case! @Senmut

a quieted breath gathers in abydos' chest, glad that his path had crossed briefly, if not unexpectedly with a hurried @Meseba as the man had lain out the path to take to reach the rumored Pharaoh's kingdom, the urgency in which meseba had spoken, breathless and bothered until abydos had parted ways leaves a slight feeling of unease in the scorned princes' chest. but it was not his business. the one-eyed mazoi was clearly in a hurry to get where he was going.

following the path of Aten, rapidly beginning his descent into towards the rising horizon of the earth.

when abydos reaches the borders of the mesa dusk had taken reign of the sky.

steps slow as he nears the borders, taking in what he can see with eyes tired from the journey.

a tip of his head back, a brief introduction sent into the air before he falls quiet; waiting.

tasked with the education of royal children, senmut had little time to send messages. eset had not responded. pharaoh and consort remained at their war.

he was weary and drawn, more sharp-eyed and careful.

the summons drew him with a filigree of fellahin to shadow, a watchful guardian just out of earshot. "you stand upon lands commanded by Pharaoh of the Red Land," the prince murmured, caution flickering to life in a belly which no longer enjoyed the taste of food.

pharaoh of the red land, the stranger speaks of this place.

the one-eyed mazoi had not steered akhenaten wrong, and though it had been but a brief flash of worry in the prince that was promised's mind it was now lain to rest.

a brief moment, but there is a flicker of relief that makes its home upon akhenaten's facial features.


i am called abydos, came as a gift to the Pharaoh of the red sands from Pharaoh Seti of Osireion Oasis. the scorned prince speaks, continuing his father's mission of carving the royal from him until he is a servant and nothing more. a gift.

abydos' head bows then, gaze low to the sands at senmut's feet.

pharaoh seti.

the green eyes tightened. "there was only one pharaoh seti, and he is dead. his lineage was continued by the rule of ramesses, father to our Divine One."

he studied the well-built man. there was but one other pharaoh he knew, hatshepsuun. was she behind this? "who is this pretender of which you speak?"

incensed; curious.

while abydos did not expect much in the way of high expectations, he does not expect the perceived hostility. there is a small swell of indignation in his chest as his father is called a pretender. akhenaten and his father did not oft see eye to eye, and there is a small flame of resentment at being named the scorned crowned prince because of his tainted blood ... they are still kin. he is still the god that walked the earth's son.

pharaoh seti of the oasis is no pretender, my lord, speaks abydos lowering his head and his eyes — eyes of a god — to the dirt of the man's feet; working to keep his voice level, calling upon those long lessons of diplomacy hoping they were all for naught in end. they share the same powerful name it would seem but this is no trick.

just the plea of a scorned prince who'd rather make himself a gift to a pharaoh then be constantly reminded by his father and divine sisters that he is tainted.

"it is dangerous to claim his name here," senmut pointed out, annoyance mingling with the very truth of what he said.

the four royal children were not yet grown to safety. a rival pharaoh posed a threat that the prince was ill-wanting to mediate.

again he watched the man. a powerful gift. "how did you come to learn of akashingo?" senmut inquired of the wolf he had decided was a spy of sorts. internal churn and the prolonged silence of his rulers had turned the red prince into something wary.

silly cameo!

A man in the castle!

With no other girls about to share in her giddiness, Merneith creeps stealthily outside the receiving room, a little cupped paw at the archway, a single scarlet eye peering around the corner, hoping to go unnoticed.

She watches keenly this business between men, all the while fighting to restrain the wonder in her face.

He was old, yes. But he was old, and handsome.

not speaking of his father was an easy enough task; made all the easier by the want to forget, even if his blood sang with the golden threads of Aten's own blood.

a shadowed traveller named @Ingram spent some time with us and spoke of it. if there had been an end game to it beyond sharing that their culture lived on elsewhere abydos hadn't been privy to. irregardless, the tales ingram had regaled them with had inspired abydos' own decision.

the appraising scarlet gaze of the girl goes unnoticed, his attention focused upon senmut and the desperation of which he wishes to be accepted as he came: a gift. he has not accounted for what he will do if he was turned away — a bridge he would cross if the time came.

the timing was unconventional, and senmut was reminded with a horrid cool washing over him that he was alone here. no word had come from muat-riya, and for all he knew, the corridors beyond akashingo were now tightly controlled.

senses caught another presence and the back muscles of the red prince tightened. he knew ingram; the man had been a we'eb here, for a time. such a mention at last bought half the price of entry from a priest who must know what pharaoh might do.

"i will rank you as mazoi on one condition. go back into the desert, to the palace of muat-riya. seek pharaoh's counsel and that of her Consort. i will dictate a message for you to carry."

he was not made for this senet board!

"and abydos, i will not lie. our pharaoh has gone to war, and it may be war there you find."