Rosewater Oasis Let us treat

for @Andalib

Samirseti lounged atop one of the larger rocks, his ebony coat shimmering with gilded accents beneath the heat. The warmth of the day pressed against his skin, soothing, comforting—a reminder of Ra’s favor shining down upon him.

In his grasp rested a polished conch shell, filled to the brim with dark berrywine. He lifted it lazily to his lips, taking a languid sip, the sweetness coating his tongue as the faint tang of fermented fruit lingered. His head tilted back slightly, a sigh of indulgent contentment slipping from his lips as he savored the taste. From his perch, he had a perfect view of the oasis, its grasses swaying gently in the dry breeze, the pool gleaming like molten gold.

Samir's mind wandered briefly to Andalib. The boy’s energy, his flitting curiosity, and the youthful vigor within his gaze had been… amusing.

Perhaps the boy would stay. Perhaps he wouldn’t. Either way, the choice would serve Samir’s interests.

Speaking of... his ears twitched at the sound of faint movement near the oasis edge. The predator in him stirred, molten eyes flickering downward toward the source of the noise. His gaze remained heavy-lidded, unbothered, but watchful.

"Ah, Andalib! Come, let us treat." He rises from his place upon the sandstone, letting the empty conch shell clatter aside as he hops down.

Save for a brief rest, Andalib was ceaseless. He didn't squander a single chance to dig and pry, tempted by rocks and the way things glittered in the sunlight; all wonders against a landscape of uniform grains and grit. Watching him, it would be no doubt he had hailed from somewhere with a typical forest, given how he marveled at the grand palm trees the most, drawing one fallen leaf across the ground to sweep sand and grass awry. 

The more civilized of tastes for bounty aplenty were lost on him - he was young, and youth found ways to play games with naught but stones and shadows.

At the beckoning of Samirseti, his head would turn, ears and eyes alert like a hare in a glen. He was quick to hop over, light on his feet like he hadn't burnt the energy an adult would've missed. He still kept the barest space between them, a traveled wariness maybe - but he seemed undoubtedly interested in what that entailed. Andalib asked, candid, What is it?

“Bring more berrywine for my guest!" A command issued without the need for repetition. From the corner of his eye, he saw a low figure shuffle away from the oasis pool, hurrying to fetch his request.

Then, he turned back to Andalib, a smile drawn upon his face.

“It is an invitation, boy. To indulge, to linger, to learn. That is what I offer.” He motioned slightly with his paw, gesturing to the oasis that shimmered like a mirage behind them. As the Ruhayt returned with another filled conch shell, Samirseti accepted it with a nod of mild acknowledgment before continuing.

He quickly offered the shell to Andalib, ushering him to drink. To indulge. He then reclined slightly, watching Andalib with sharp golden eyes, waiting to see how the boy would respond. "Have you come to a decision?"

Andalib's head tilted - berrywine was a new and intriguing taste to his palette, and he had tried many things. It was a feat, one that his little crafty mind could appreciate the creation of. Of course, the sweet scent on its own was enough to lure him in the first place - marveling at the mindless and quick obedience of whatever wolf Samirseti had bid upon. It was unfamiliar to him, a different kind of splendor, though one that made his coat prickle with the slightest discomfort.

Still, he listened and he considered. When the offer to let him drink came, Andalib was eager to sip from it; especially when he thought about how it was a pharaoh offering such a thing to what was nothing more than a street urchin. He had really struck it gold this time, his tail wagged.

He licked his lips free of sweet berrywine, enjoying the scent still sticking to his nose, as he tilted his head. He looked a little more serious, for about half a second, before he was smiling again, eyes a-glitter. Andalib nodded, I have.

His ears swept aside, a little tiny mote of sadness drifting over his features, before it brightened and passed, tail still a-wag. There was a weight of purpose to his words. I'm a long way from home now, but I owe the sun.

He drank eagerly, just as Samir expected—and for that, the Pharaoh allowed his smile to grow, even if only slightly.

Good.

The boy was like an uncut stone: rough, untamed, yet full of promise. He could see it now—a sharpness in the gaze, a spark in the grin. Andalib had a wanderer’s spirit, yes, but even the wildest of fires could be coaxed to serve a greater purpose when handled correctly.

“The sun is owed much. It is our giver of life, our judge, our watcher."

Samirseti moved forward then, the obsidian panther brushing close enough for his shadow to fall over the boy. “Trust in me that you will find purpose here,” he spoke warmly, coming to embrace Andalib with a single foreleg. “Vahanet is your home now. And the sun,” he smiled slowly, dangerous and warm all at once, “will shine brightest upon those who serve it.”

He pulled back, standing tall and regal as the sunlight seemed to ignite the golden accents of his coat. “Tah-Elçi,” Samirseti bestowed the title like a blessing. “You will carry my voice beyond these sands. Speak of Vahanet, of its Pharaoh. Let those you meet know of its splendor—and when the time comes, call them to it.”

With that, he gestured toward the conch shell in Andalib’s grasp, his voice settling into something gentler, almost honeyed. “Drink deep, boy. Celebrate. I name you Tah-Elçi, and dub you Senedjet." He laughs proudly and reaches a paw forth to clap him over the shoulder. "The Wanderer."

Our judge, Andalib repeated in his mind, eyes flicking up to the burning orb before dropping back - a slither of self-doubt wedging through the childish youth. If it were all true, what did Ra make of him? Did it, like everyone grown around him, besmirch and look down their long noses at him? 

The half-embrace was warm and welcome, Andalib's tail sweeping behind him - it was a different warmth than the sun or the sand, it was comforting, it was kind. it was something he had a scant few times in the recent seasons, and coming from someone almost paternal, it sunk him deeper into the vex of the desert.

When his title came, Andalib listened and watched with wonder; it was like sap and leaves, sticking to his heart like a passenger. The duties, the glamor, it was all a siren song to the boy with no true home. He was to be the one to lead others to water, to sanctuary, all while getting to dance on the lines of propriety and manner.

His heart was racing in his chest, all excitement, as Samirseti gave him a second name, Senedjet. If nothing else, it was a token, a recognition, of his time in the lowlands, a trophy and memento. To think, all the others from his childhood would have laughed at the thought, but now, he was Senedjet, the Wanderer, Tah-Elçi. Andalib couldn't begin to hate the sound. He laughed, a joyous thing, bowing low before seeking to sip up the drops of his berrywine portion. He looked to Samirseti, grinning wide, a feral light in his eyes. I will carry your word, Pharaoh - to the sea and back.

Samirseti watched the boy’s response with silent satisfaction.

Doubt was natural—it was the chisel to a raw stone, the edge against which one found their shape. What mattered was the laughter that followed, the eager acceptance of what had been bestowed.

Good.

Samirseti’s smile deepened, gilded eyes gleaming with a dangerous warmth as Andalib drank and vowed to serve.

His paw brushed lightly against Andalib’s shoulder, "Remember, Senedjet," he purred, "The gods are not mere beings to be worshipped. They are forces—immovable, eternal. Ra’s light does not shine out of kindness; it is power, unyielding and absolute. It nourishes, yes, but it also scorches. It is both creator and destroyer."

"When you speak of Vahanet, when you carry my name, remember this duality. To serve is not to grovel, boy. It is to honor strength, to uphold balance. The gods do not favor the meek; they favor those who act. Those who build. Those who burn brightly, even if they burn briefly."

He dipped his head slightly, a gesture of finality. "And when the road grows dark, remember that the sun always rises."

Andalib nodded, turning over knowledge to mull over later - at a time where he'd rather tune out the world or walk the stray lane alone. In his mind, the patron god shifted from pure good to something neutral; he supposed, in all things, beings were selfish for one reason or another. Putting blame to purpose and purpose to blame.

Still, he intoned, Of course, Pharaoh Samirseti.

His head was carried a little higher, spine and tail straight, though the latter not without a tiny sway. Andalib was many, many things. But he was not meek; to hear it, to be encouraged by it, it only made him more ready to stand alongside the Pharaoh as his Tah-Elçi - an almost divine messenger.

Andalib's expression was one of the steadfast, loyal and assured. His fledgling faith in Vahanet cemented, at least for the time being. The harshness of sands might grind and slice, but he was yet to know - yet to change or deviate. If only for the comforts of the oasis, or maybe the new extension of his role, he uttered his gratitude. I will remember.

Like a sprite, he waited eagerly for Samir's dismissal, and then as if all the ceremony had meant little to steer him this or that way, he would still light on his feet, young. He would rest awhile longer, and given a second order from Samirseti, he would set off on his way.

Samirseti’s eyes lingered on the boy—no, not a boy any longer.

“Good,” the Pharaoh murmured, his voice a silken thread in the desert air. “You carry the weight of Vahanet on your shoulders now, Senedjet. Do not falter.” His gaze flicked to Andalib’s straightened spine and lifted head, a faint smile gracing his lips. The boy was learning.

Rising to his feet in one fluid motion, Samir let the golden sun catch on the edges of his fur, his regal form almost aglow. “Come dawn, you shall depart.” he finally commanded, his voice low but resolute. “Carry my name to the sands and beyond. Speak of Vahanet’s power and prosperity. When you return, I expect to hear of the seeds you’ve sown.”

Samir stepped closer, leaning just slightly into Andalib’s space. The faintest touch of his muzzle brushed against the young wolf’s shoulder—an intimate, deliberate motion, like a blessing. “The sun shines brightest upon those who serve it well.”

With that, Samir turned away, his tail swishing lightly behind him as he strode back toward the heart of the oasis. His thoughts were already shifting, calculating. Andalib was promising, but promises alone were fragile things.

exit samir