Lion Head Mesa a final inundation

here it is: the departure of akashingo. my enduring love & light to all those who have written this story with me to its very end. our palace, our kingdom, belongs as much to you as to its founders <3 for all those following, this is set for midnight dec 31st. incredibly bittersweet but i know our legends are not finished :) as of this thread, it can be assumed senmut, khaemwaset, khusobek, and tavina are missing/dead </3 @Toula @Rashepses Satakhetem @Khaemwaset Neith Senmut Khusobek @Eset @Legend @Athamas @Nazli @Safiya Tavina @Machiavelli @Racharra @Briar Cayde @Mesen-ka Ibrahim Taliba @Nokht Tiye (also a tag for @Nasima in case u want to close her story here)

IMMERSION

in the void beneath akashingo, those great rivulets rose, offshoots of the serpent river beside which they had so often worshipped. senmut heard the whispers of the living dark, the groaning of pressed red stone; he bowed his head beneath this seeming insistence of the gods. "i obey."

and when he straightened, it was with the gilding of steel to his green eyes. "tell them that the High Priest calls for akashingo to witness the judgement of the unworthy. all must come."

and as guards moved in the gloom to acquiesce, as servants fluttered up from the yawning catacombs, senmut stood paralyzed, a redstone conduit for a power he had never understood.

BREAKING

they gathered. Amun was silent behind his shoulder. peace. peace. senmut's breathing found the steadiness of worship, and his eyes moved from one figure to the next. "i am told that there is one among us who has spoken against the Divine of akashingo. that a voice is lifted against the gods. that command is violated. that order and tradition have been ejected, and chaos stands at the door. that the affairs of the deities have been confounded."

as he spoke in muted monotone, senmut pulled each one of those words from memory. "i have been called upon to right what has displeased the gods. my station is blessed. my role is ascension."

"here in this place, open your ears to listen." listen to the grinding of fel stone, the vibration of long-held lake. "hear the sounds of displeasure. know that only purification will save akashingo: that of blood."

POWER

strength.

he felt the tremour of the ground beneath. dust fell from the cavernhold down onto the assembly, staining even he in brief grey. "hear! heed! the gods call for unholy flesh to be condemned! they demand that pious expectation be excised!"

nausea swam. he did not dare seize for the eye of nazli nor their child; he kept himself in cold parting from them all, his gaze moving to tavina.

pulse, galloping; horrendous. fear and horror bedfellows inside a mind which could hardly form words.

"we condemn!"

INSCRIPTION

voices, erupting! senmut stood glaring into the face of the handsome, accursed Consort who had wrought a power which was not his to use. only ramesses' lineage burned here. only the blood of seti which ran in toula's veins might give life! might bestow divinity.

"so let it be written! condemnation lies with —!" he cried, just as the great red stone walls of akashingo sounded a last agonized cry and the far-off rumbling of the lake could be heard.

and then, a crushing, horrendous rush, and suddenly cries of fear began to sound in that catacombed chamber as water moved stone and stone began to fall first as dusted rocks, and then in shuddering slabs.

"go!" he shouted in desperation, reduced to only a man once more! "go!"

but where might such a throng rush?

indent]the scarlet tunnels beneath the mesa ran high with water and into its flood collapsed first one wall and then another, narrowly missing him as he rushed frantically toward nazli.

condemnation lies within akashingo.

FOREVER

screaming.

panic in those tunnels.

the mesa ground down history and crushed it wholesale. its outward face was unchanged, an obelisk to a final jubilee of death. and the lake flowed up from akashingo like blood, silting closed the valley of kings, sundering to silence the royal tombs in an eager rush to join mother serpent.

thrones shattered, paintings washed away. storerooms of wealth sealed by stone, courtyards crumbled. the wellspring's perimeter was broken, and it too rushed into quarters of fellahin and mazoi alike, seeking death for those who had not fled. exits fell to ruin and entrances were stopped for eternity by piles of rubble.

as if akashingo itself were a sarcophagus of old, its proverbial stone lid closed for a last time, encapsulating the elements of godhead wolves inside

by the morning, the surface of mesaland and the red sands would be unchanged, a final silken epitaph as the spirits of those lost were carried to the Land of Reeds.

farewell, the unheard whisper from the pale ghost of a dead pharaoh, flanked by a queen clad in shimmering gold. it seemed ramesses and satsu watched, gazing down until they could no longer, and lifted up into the atmosphere of a cold morning like so many shimmering lights.

thus ended the earthly reign of  Muat-riya Isetnofret toula, Goddess of the Red Serpent, Wife to the Gods, Consort of Amun, The Morning and the Evening Star, Userma’atre’setepenre, Keeper of Harmony and Balance, Strong in Right, Elect of Ra; Per-en-ma'at nesu-bity, Pharaoh In Two Lands, She Who Has Achieved Ma’at.

thus ended the earthly companionship of her Semer-wati, of Ta-senet, Raemka Rashepses, Divine Consort, God of the Red Serpent, Asar Em Ta "powerful in land," Menkheperre "he of the sedge and bee, enduring of form is Re," Lover of Isetnofret and Blessed of the Two Lands.

A sundering. The ground quaking and the world was ending. Safiya searched for her father or Tiye either one. Singular eye wide in her head. Body turning and twisting as she tried to gain her footing.

She heeded the call and began to run. Grasping bodies as she went. Puppies,other wolves, coyotes. Whoever she could grab and herd. Further away from the tunnels that were falling asunder, but in the dark they raced.

Shoulders, legs paws she took the brunt of the rocks falling when she could. Her full job was that of Mazoi. Protecting all those under the Pharaoh's care.

They were brought together as a family this one last time. Senmut kissed her, kissed Aiesha atop the head, and was away again - seeking the forefront of this gathering, melding Akashingo and Muat-Riya.
Aiesha moved to go to him and Nazli had to stop her. He is doing his work, come now, The mother murmured as she ushered them along. It felt odd not to be included in this holy moment - but she wasn't yet expected in such a role, not so freshly returned.

The words bellowed from her beloved soon after. Thoughts of Tavina held against her will; a memory of Toula's birth, and tending to Treva when she was queen. Remembering the many hours spent being tutored or treated by the woman - and to think, someone could be so horrible to her! Senmut was filled with resolve; as he spoke the God's truth, Nazli felt emboldened.

She was about to mutter something coyly to Aiesha when the earth groaned. The walls shuddered! As Senmut went on with his accusation it was as if Akashingo answered - and Nazli looked for Aiesha again, this time fervently, wanting her close, and saw her trying to mingle among fellahin, and her pseudo-siblings. Greedily Nazli grabbed for her and pulled her close -

In time for the world to shatter around them. Hurried! Panicking! Scrambling first towards her daughter and then towards Senmut; he was shouting - the air was thick with red dust. Where could they go? She knew the catacombs - but where was Aiesha?

Tremors forced her low against the earth. Nazli scrambled after bodies as they too ran like rats in a maze. She saw a flash of red fur red dirt red blood red — AIESHA?!

Voices were screaming around her. The earth opened, swallowing the unfaithful and devout alike, and Nazli fought for each breath and each glimpse of any life - and grappling with anyone she could, she moved with the masses even as Akashingo devoured them all.

the first tremors of the gods perked racharra up from senmut's sermon. the second got her to her feet. the third, she answered senmut's call with a harrowed scream of her own. the gods had come to claim them all. but she was too sinful to sit and accept such a fate.

the halls she'd grown to etch into her heart became a maze, set on drowning her and anyone else that dared Tefnut's wrath. she wasn't allowed to enter the sacred hall, barred from her chosen-mother by mazoi, and pushed into running for the catacombs through her tears. teeth clenched, her eyes seared from swelling as she and the guards sprinted.

the last exit from mesa. the once great palace — her one true home — fell all around her. this time not to human fault but by the whims of the gods.

and yet.

through that last glimmer of escape shone through the catacombs, her eyes glistening brighter and brighter, they chased the sun. His light peaks through, it was if He beckoned them.
please, guide us Ra. she mutters one last prayer through gritted teeth and winced eyes.

a pillar — a jagged boulder falls.

she shook as it came that the priest had asked for them all. bustled by mazoi, she heard herself pray to gods in which she did not believe.

and now she stood among them in a throng and listened to senmut speak, a growing sense of dread threatening her belly.

the shouting! the shouting! her brain hurt and she looked frantically around for anything on which to set her frayed nerves, her —

she saw senmut burning toward rashepses and for a moment hope caught in her throat;

and then true terror began.

"nazli!" she cried, a mother's shriek in a darkening corridor; she surged toward the priestess and her child as stones fell around them, as water swirled around her ankles.

disbelieving doctor, whelpmistress of royal children, dry friend to priests. lover of a single hebsut; memories dizzied as they spun through her mind.

the sesh was slammed to blackness as red boulders swept her feet from beneath her body, her final thought eset's smiling face framed by flowers.

if these gods are merciful, i will see you again.

in some interest but more wariness he had answered the call, falling into step behind tavina. he wanted to ask her what she made of this, but did not wish to jeopardize anything. his eyes roved for danger and when the assembly had circled around the priest, he stood to one side.

his ear was not for the gods; he watched the gathered wolves with a growing sense of trepidation and as the final edict came, he snapped his head toward senmut, toward the cavern beyond.

honed senses felt the fall before it came. "safiya! tiye! get out!" roared their father, cutting through the galvanized crowd with hard shoves to reach his daughters.

stones fell.

he dodged the first, the second, the third.

the fourth crushed his spine, and in a bellow he fell, bracing his broken body beneath the pillar and forcing himself to hold, to hold, to hold this small space if it meant even a single wolf escaped.

death came swift, and in its mercy the great agony in his flesh was lifted; khusobek was caught up and up, and breathed his last against the brilliant memory of summer sunlight and inji's laughter.

Gathered bodies pooled and twisted in expectant throngs, ushered into a chamber far beneath the earth where walls wept with moisture and shadows writhed like living things.

The Judgement of the Unworthy.
An undercurrent of anxiety.

The dog in the back of the chamber, berries fermented and shockingly red, swirled unhurriedly in his grasp. His gaze flicked between the forms of those he held dear, next to the ink-spill body of another, dusted in gold.

His approach was slow, unhurried even as ruby coated his paws, even as it left a trail through the silt.

But then the earth began its terrible shaking, and panic erupted.

He had never made it to his target, had never made it close.

As the opal eyes snapped to the sound of a great crumbling and cracking above, and dust clouded the earth below.

And when the earthen funeral shroud finally settled, when the chamber fell silent save for the groan of settling stone, only the ruby trail remained.

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He knew rock could be carved, smoothed by the abrasion of water coursing along it. And now water had come to Akashingo.

Behold, Gods’ shadow is above you.

Men made shouts, spread their jaws wide.

The son of Sky-ba gave his mouth.

Women were weeping, huddled together with children, wails rising in crescendo.

The plan you conceive happens immediately, like the word of God.

Primordial roaring erupted from the crowd.

Truly you were born of chaos, for we see it by your deeds

The catacombs would level by river and blood. The very denizens in this chamber would soon be at claw-point with one another.

No one shall perish but the sinners.

The Gods thrust so much rock into Semer-wati’s path. He dragged his wrist across the the sharpened blades and watched as blood rushed from the opening. I offer oblation to Ptah, I offer to Sokar and Shetyt!

With new darkness to command his voice, the regal raged his howl for all he held dear. Toula. Khaemwaset. Den. Satakhetem. Merneith. The father moved to encase them all in prophetic embrace; arms holding Toula and their four cubs between.

“Ra loves us. Father Amun favours us. This happened according to Amun’s command. We were made in order to demonstrate power, to display majesty,” he told them. “We will seize the water like cloudbursts, for He commands inside us!”

One last kiss for his love; his life, then he knelt before the four divine faces.

“What is eternal may never die.”

briar can be assumed missing

The neb remained silent as the high priest began his edict. His eyes trailed from the red priest. As a man of outside origin, Briar held his reservations of divinity tightly behind his teeth. First hand he was witnessing the reward for blasphemy.

Deep within the stone halls, a low groan eked from the stone. Briar turned his face from the hearing, instead casting his two-toned gaze into the darkness of the cave entrance.

He would have sworn he heard the stone heave a sigh. A peaceful breath before the reckoning that followed.

The cracking of rock thundered throughout the mesa and the rush of water roared down the halls. The sundering of the palace was accompanied by the horror of its denizens. His own voice rose as panicked cries joined the air. The cacophony drowned out by the hammer of his own heart in his ears.

Shoved, throttled, lifted off his feet. Briar found himself taken in the surge of the crowd. Racing, like many, for his life.

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she was assisting the other fellahin, passing snide whispers amongst them. hushed, but giggling. today was supposed to be normal.

and instead, the world shook. chaos erupted. tiye dodged debris. she searched for her brothers, screamed for baba, mama and fiya. fiya was escorting the others, and just when her lavender gaze found khusobek, it was already too late. her family was returned to her, just to ripped away in a few minutes.

BABA!! she shrieked cutting through the stampede in a wild sprint to his side. she tried to push one boulder off only for a second to punish her for trying. her scream now one of visceral pain as the rock crushes her arms with a terrible crunch. her vision blurs from agony and tears. her head hung low between her limbs, staring down at the crumpled body of her father.

the gods took her out of her misery soon enough. together with family, even in death.

Taliba can be assumed missing/dead. Power playing Ibrahim with OOC perm from Ibrahim's player. He can be assumed dead.

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Taliba's presence in the hall was timely. Mesen-ka's children were informed in advance with the summons of their father to Semer-wati's side. The children of the kingsguard sat in the congregation, although their attention was far from rapt. Taliba suppressed a growl as Ibrahim jostled her and prodded her side. Her teeth flashing to him as he stuck his tongue out at her. The girl hissed demands for him to cease, much to the dismay of the onlookers around them.

Perhaps the children should have paid more attention to the edict of their gods.

In the blink of an eye the voice of Senmut fell away. The words of man would always falter beneath the wrath of the divine.

The catacombs cracked with the tremors. The tunnels giving way to the power of the Serpent River.

Taliba clung to her brother in the chaos as much as she could. While the ogre children were larger than most, the force of a panicked crowd was just as strong as the force of nature itself. Taliba shrieked for her brother, fear possessing the girl's being for the first time in her life. Her eyes welled to see her terror reflected in the yellow of Ibrahim's eyes.

Together, the children pushed themselves to the edge of the crowd, ducking into a side tunnel. The golden boy and auburn girl pressed their pelts together to keep the shaking of the earth from weakening their legs. Taliba opened her mouth to speak, but her voice died in her throat when water passed over her toes. The alcove shuddered.

The oldest sibling, the biggest and strongest, Ibrahim threw himself over his sister. A boy made guardian in act of desperation. But Ibrahim was no match for the collapse of stone. Taliba's final memory would be wrapping her arms around her brother's shoulders, burying her face in his neck. The girl wondered where her mother, father, and youngest brother in Aiman were.

She hoped they were safe.

They cannot die.

Why then does it feel like a moment of lasts?

Grief floods her eyes. Families hold each other until they are dropped by stone. Some cry out in rage; what’s under that is just another asking for love.

She is forced to look for beauty in broken pieces of stone as the water rises up to her ankles now.

—but love is a hard thing to kill, no matter how it’s clawed apart.

She looks for Khaem in the gyrating faces.

For one last time she wanted to hold his hand.

a god.

a man.

a woman.

the flesh fell away to fear but father was resplendent. cries erupted all around him but khaemwaset found some root of courage in himself.

blood streamed in the water; father's offering. the boy felt he could not give less.

his paw twined with neith's own. "we do not fear."

water rose around them, rose from heel to ankle to thigh to flank, but it was only her eyes he saw then, her gemstone gaze and the starred dot beneath the left; he felt her fear enter him and gave back what courage had been built in his young heart.

stones fell in heavy crashing around them but khaemwaset did not look away. 

"we endure."

a shadow darkened his face, a crumbled terrace of crimson rock hurtling directly downward toward his crown of gold and silken black;

"neith! look for me beside Osiris' hand! i will be there! i will be there!"

the world grew bigger when those of the second palace came to show their love of them, the children of tomorrow; that there was trouble in the desert was not a fact satakhetem took to heart. trouble? the worst thing to ever happen among the divine children was the departure of mother and father for that foul place!

bigger, still, as they were brought to a presentation. the odd man senmut, who was some sort of priest according to mother, wanted to speak in the voice of gods.

presumptuous man!

satakhetem did not listen until father's holy name was spoken, and then she looked to khaemwaset, to neith, and to other faces, spooked and troubled. it felt like the entire world quaked!

she opened her mouth to speak in the gossiping way of a child among her peers, and instead of her own voice there came a groan from the very shadows! they were alive - the dark, the light, the walls, the floor, everything rising up to riot against the treason of senmut.

satakhetem hurried to stand with her siblings and crowd close, ears slicked back and body puffed in a feline manner, and as she felt the warmth of someone beside her there came a brief but deep rumbling.

something cleaved from the wall of the catacombs. the princess felt a light tapping across her snout from debris loosened, raining across her; then, that groaning, that sudden deepness of shadow as she was swallowed up - not by the earth at her feet, but by the eclipse, as a massive pillar came free and it's reaching blackness swept over her.

the girl missed the ensuing chaos, flattened under Akashingo's heel.

she did not fear. the Gods had heard her. Rashepses had heard her. she did not think, however, how devastatingly swift they would be in Their answer. there was no doubt They had heard her.
there was awareness she should have been more specific, but that came too late! the Gods enjoyed this game with her, but she then only saw those around her.
do not fear! We, Your Gods, shall— calamity! but would they know? her children she collected, Rashepses she turned to, unafraid, unafraid—
I will see you again, my loves, could they hear her!? could he? he would see it, they would see it! she too moved to hold her children protectively, but held fast to her husband. in death, they would not be separated!

she did not fear. the Gods had heard her. Rashepses had heard her. she did not think, however, how devastatingly swift they would be in Their answer. there was no doubt They had heard her.
there was awareness she should have been more specific, but that came too late! the Gods enjoyed this game with her, but she then only saw those around her.
do not fear! We, Your Gods, shall— calamity! but would they know? her children she collected, Rashepses she turned to, unafraid, unafraid—
I will see you again, my loves, could they hear her!? could he? he would see it, they would see it! she too moved to hold her children protectively, but held fast to her husband. in death, they would not be separated!

He's seen death a million times.

For each time, it's been Rashespses behind him. They've fallen together in laughter and a million drinks as brothers do, and did. In recent times, however, he has changed. Does Rashepses know this?

It's within these confines of chattering walls that he recognizes something truly horrifying. That they were not the same as they'd once been, but maybe neither was he. That love grows and changes, and moves on. That beneath the crying ground they stood on was the echoing song of growth; though, what Mesen-ka knew now was that brothers did not lose bond.

A guard's duty is to his king. A brother for a brother.

But Rashepses loses him in that moment.

The rocks are crumbling. The river screams afar, and only the flash of his children are behind the whites of his eyes. The only lights in this dead life. "KIDS!"

"KIDS!" Running for them, the helpless that had been summoned into this life in the cold mud. His babies, the only focus that should have ever been present in his breaking mind. "KIDS!" His voice cracks, desperate, raw. The word is swallowed by the groaning of the earth and the shrieking of stone grinding against stone. "KIDS!" He braces himself against the collapsing walls. They are lost in the crowd. The world is falling. Mesen-ka knew where the holy duty lies, knew that the gods bore their mighty hands upon them for their treason now, and even his own. Their father would die a sinner if it meant a last goodbye.

They are there, just beyond the flood of masses and weeps. "Taliba! Ibrahim!" They are there between the billowing fog, together. They are there, if only a little far away, they are that much closer. "Aiman!" Mesen-ka's heart treads the miles. May their gods speak one last mercy upon the children, the innocent, those born into this sacred life who had not yet learned what it was like to feel heartbreak, the first kiss of a lover, the foolishness of a first dance, the laughter of their first ceremony.

He has brought the most glorious thing he has ever seen in this life when he looks into his children's eyes each day, and imagines the people they will become, and who they are.

The world can not have them now, no, not yet.

"I'm here," he calls for them. "I'm here!" Don't be scared, he wishes to tell them. Don't be scared. He doesn't know if his arms have made it around them. He doesn't know if they will remember him as a father who tried. "I'm here." As black covers his vision, he doesn't know if he's made it over top of them to shield them from all that this blasted palace is before his breath collapses, and rocks bring him down to the earth.
Together.

He prays Zharille has found happiness somewhere.

Nokht will be assumed missing

It was not enough. 

He had suffered and suffered and still it wasn't enough for these gods he hardly knew.

His crime was birth, and it always had been. He was borne of secrets and of scandal, sculpted where the gods eyes did not reach, it was no wonder then, that they saw fit to destroy this infiltrator, to break him and condemn him and smite him when it was all over. Perhaps the rumbling in these caverns came as a rage that his spirit had been denied to them the first time it hung at their mercy. 

Nokht was a giving boy once. He was the sort who looked for pretty flowers to give to his mother. The sort who rose to block the light when it threatened to awaken his siblings. The sort who was born with good intertwined into his very essence and now—

The gods had taken every last drop.

And so what was left of the boy Nokht, beyond a shattered leg and a beaten conscience? 

A desperate will to continue living, no mattter what he might've become.

He was carried on Khusobek's back, and when the great stones began to fall, Nokht's head would whip around, cries and screams filling the air; that all too familiar feeling crept its way back into his heart.

Terror. Had he not had enough? When would it be enough?

Before the boulder fell, he was thrown from his Khusobek's back and tumbled a ways down, rolling rolling, until he hit wall. Spared the crushing death that befell the man in his place, the image would not soon leave his mind. His eyes would catch the bloodied splatters painting the walls and the floors, the flurry of legs as they ran in panicked waves, trying to save one-another, trying to evade the cataclysm that fell onto them from above, from the gods very hands. To be small was a blessing in this terrible scene, he stayed shaking, frozen to the wall. 

And it hit him again, that old feeling. He was spurred to this necessary act, one of defiance again.

Whether it was body or his soul that escaped this place, it did not matter. He would peel himself from this grave, this one of stone and darkness, and he would limp as far as his ruined body allowed him, before he was swallowed by the dust and the dark.

He thought of family. He knew now, he had none.