Lion Head Mesa Toiling

@Rashepses @Senmut let me in

The desert was endless, an ocean of golden waves shimmering. Isis moved like a shadow cast by the stars, his lithe frame trailing after the intoxicating thread.

It was unlike any scent he had ever known—a symphony of power and refinement. It spoke of opulence, of empire.

Drawn forward, he could not resist.

Isetnofret moved as if entranced, his paws skimming over the sands with the delicacy of a dancer’s step. He did not care what danger might lie ahead, only that he must see it—must know it.

senmut's green eyes moved from where he had been instruction one child or another on the history of their great-grandfather seti. "speak among yourselves," the priest instructed as he moved from the room, hearing khaemwaset's voice pitched loud above that of the others.

as of late, any movement upon their borders was reason for hesitation, and he moved in such a manner, watchful teeth in sentinels trained upon the newcomer.

"you approach the realm of pharaoh toula, Wife to the Gods, Consort to the Black Prince of Ta-senet," a courtesy for the lion over which he was still not certain how to feel.

A declaration, regal and absolute, underscored by the unyielding presence of their guardians.

Iset inclined his head slightly, a picture of measured respect.

"Then it seems," he spoke with voice of silk, "I have found the heart of the desert’s majesty."

He took a single step forward, careful not to encroach too boldly upon their domain. His gaze remained steady on the priest, though it flicked momentarily toward the sentinels.

He would flee first sign of aggress.

"I am an envoy displaced." he expressed, "I come from somewhere similar to here. Though not quite as..." There was a faint, awed curve to his lips. "breath-taking."

cameo

this envoy displaced caught charmion's eye for only a basic, raw reason.

the man was beautiful. lean with grace and painted in winter's pale hues. he wondered what beautiful temptation he brought with him — and what akashingo might deliver such a regal-looking figure.

he dreamed of company as fellahin.

he dreamed of a new royal to listen in on, to watch in court affairs.

the cold air had apparently made him a yearning beast. it felt unbecoming, it uneased him and forced him to look inward. he turned away to sink back into work and teachings.

an envoy displaced.

praise upon the pretty mouth, this blue-veined noble with no outward guile. and while senmut knew better than to trust, he too was taken off-guard by the exquisite nature of their visitor.

"this is akashingo, and i am its erpa-ha, senmut. join us for refreshment."

he sensed a presence; then aside, lifting his slender arm to gesture that the stranger should fall into step as they moved back to the opulence of the mesa.

Golden eyes, luminous against his pale visage, flickered to Senmut as a faint smile curved his lips.

"You honor me, Erpa-ha," he replied, his voice smooth. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Isisnofret." Reciting his name never grew more easy. "But perhaps just Isis will taste better upon your tongue."

He fell into step beside Senmut, his pale, lithe frame moving with effortless grace against the shifting sands.

"You must forgive my ignorance," Iset continued, his tone casual yet probing. "Tell me, if you do not mind, of Akashingo?"

Around, he looked. Eyes flittering about the grandeur of the warm mesa.

fire leapt beneath senmut's visage; a tight smile became more relaxed upon his mouth. "your name is a delight to the devout, noble one," he teased. 

over the red land, up the three rough-hewn steps of natural rock, into the caverns below, like working ants the subjects of akashingo sprawled beneath the mesa.

the wealth of the palace was shown, was offered; rich morsels and quenching drink, laughter; "tell me of your home," senmut murmured at last, not taking his eyes from such beauty.

The priest’s words, laced with teasing reverence, were met with a faint bow of his head, golden eyes gleaming.

As they ascended the rough-hewn steps, the grandeur of Akashingo revealed itself in cascading layers of wealth and life. Within the cavernous heart of the mesa, the air buzzed with vitality—subjects moving with purpose, laughter weaving through the hum of activity. The opulence here was palpable, a stark contrast to the endless austerity of the dunes.

It was as though he had stepped into a realm of gods.

For a moment, the pale envoy was silent, his gaze drifting as though seeing something far away—only to resettle on the handsome Erpa-ha.

"It is nothing like this," he admitted, gesturing to the splendor surrounding them. "My home is a place of silence and stars. A place that demanded much in return. Simplicity is—was survival."

From where he had settled upon a rug of warm fur, a foreleg extended, reaching to press paw to Senmut's in friendly gesture. "You have spoiled me today."