The bickering between
humans was... amusing. Thankfully for HotepseAken, the bickering did not cease. On and on the two nattered one way and the other, passing the time for Hotepse quite quickly actually.
HotepseAken watched the cliffs and hills, ears rotating slowly, twitching at distant sounds. The region was decidedly active, distant parties all traveling on different roads, all towards this one city:
Sey'Kube.
It would be several more hours, the better part of a day really, before they made it to the gates. Then of course, the real work could begin: seeing patients, providing care, and educating junior medicine men in proper healing. There would, of course, be precious little to do while the patients bodies healed, as that was the secret of medicine:
The Gods had given all that lived vitality. That vitality, if allowed, would recover and flourish. Thus was what the creator decreed.
HotepseAken hadn't been there for that bit, he had been told it when he was young, and again when he decided to put his history as a Strider behind himself and pick up medicine. Striding was difficult with a limp, but medicine almost seemed to favor it. It truly was as if the Creator had intervened, setting the Grand Physician on his path.
His rank wasn't just a statement of prestige however, rather acknowledgement. There was no finer Physician in the world, for he alone had collected, scrutinized, and refined the works of all those who came before and continued to queation. The mortal races held ingenuity from desperation, something that could be incorporated and exploited.
HotepseAken valued human life, not because they lived, but because they could die. Humans, so peculiar, wasted their precious hours on such frivolity. It honestly warmed his heart.
"I heard something," called one of the riders; the bickering died down slowly in the background, "Rocks just fell from up above..."
HotepseAken swiveled his ears, checking for noise. It was quiet. The rocks had fallen, he noticed that, but...
There: a bowstring straining. The
Anaphite looked up, directly towards the sound. Nothing could be seen... but it was there. He knew it. Nothing could hide the continued straining of the string, creaking with every gentle twitch of the body.
The strain slowly died down. The archer, far from sight, had released the tension and the sound of flint on leather announced the arrow had been put away. HotepseAken smiled openly at that.
"It was a mountain animal," the Doctor confirmed, "I believe some sort of watcher in the cliffs. It has since moved on."
A few eyes were cast his way, surprise and skepticism distributed across those turning their gaze to him. His ears simply swiveled a few times, the Anaphite still smiling, though it grew more gentle now. Those of sharper wit smirked and nodded, one's eyes widened and he exclaimed lowly his epiphany. In either case, none acted nor spoke of the
event for some time.
The bickering had ended as well;
As Nineban was a memory at this point, and most of the riders had sunken to their thoughts. The horses were doing well, most seemed to be enjoying an unnaturally cool day while a few just seemed eager to get-up-and-go. Now that there was nothing to really focus on, Hotepse noticed the temperature more clearly.
It was a solid seven or so degrees cooler than it ought to be; he suspected a northern wind, or perhaps rain winds from elsewhere had blown over the mountains, clotting the sun out of its rightful misery-inducing time to bake the earth a solid hue or tan and red.
The smell of clay and rock was easily picked out, however; clay pits not far away drew up well water to moisten the earth in the right places, letting the workers pull free material for pots, cook wear, bowls, cups, and all other assortments. Even bricks, if they had the means to fire them hot enough.
HotepseAken did not know if this was the case; places like
the Spine used different methods, and he was no expert on trade goods and building materials. The only thing he really knew, when it came to such things, was that salt was always considered valuable, and could make a useful building material in the desert. He supposed that counted for something...
HotepseAken paused his train of thought, looking across the rocky highway onwards to great doors of wood and iron. Tall walls with tiled patterns before them, the kinds which openly declared wealth and prestige ringed a hill upon a hill upon a hill. A city lie within, some rising altar of human determination; hard scrabble as it was, this place was a home unlike any other.
"Sey'Kube," someone said, though Hotepse did not place the voice as impressed as he was with this city, "the gleaming jewel of the Seret. Other
cities may be more opulent, others may be larger or more populated... but none are as loved, as precious and protected, nor rich in good folk and good commerce."
Quite the introduction... Hotepse was impressed. It was rare he would be so, at that: he had seen things even
Dragons would find hard to believe, monuments lost to time and the elements, things which defied gods and the petty will of kings, grand edifices of magnanimity. The Lost Colossus did not measure up to this, this living heart of something precious. The walls, the parapets, the bastions... sculpted. Meticulously. Detailed and ornamented with what could only be called love. It was not a display of wealth, it was a display of care. Of spirit.
Sey'Kube, the city of spirit, the city of the Sayyaduna. Sey'Kube, the city of lepers. Sey'Kube...
HotepseAken nodded approvingly. He was beginning to like these humans. They had that something, that care for the world around them that was so hard to find. The drive that couldn't be found in most places. They took the time, the sacrifice, to make it worth it.
HotepseAken was beginning to think these Shakhmat might be just what the Setep needed.
He walked alongside the warband, parading their new arrival rather eagerly. People gathered by the crowds, watching from rooftops of the small, squat brick houses that lined the road. They were awed by this strange creature, this jackal man. A few whispered names, the most loudly shared being "Sages", a nickname granted so them long ago. It was one that HotepseAken actually liked. Far better than being called a demon.
Those annoying creatures were insufferable.
HotepseAken looked about, gingerly taking in the details. Dust clogged this road, yet vibrant colors adorned its people. Ahead, the gate finally came into view.
The doors parted and the city proper was exposed. If HotepseAken was impressed before, now he was properly pleased.
The roads were organized; ridges ran along them, keeping traffic from exiting into the alleys. The houses were painted, red and yellow and green with even blends of all three in different varieties. The doors, carved and decorated with charms and words, paints and lacquers.
The smell of spice wafted. A bazaar, nearby the outer gate, a plaza of exotic wares. Furs from the spine, glass wares of an amazing quality, metals alloyed in arcane processes only so many could recall... HotepseAken stepped aside, gingerly lifting a steel knife. It was discolored, with a pattern almost too fine to pick out. It was a quality of steel which could not be found elsewhere but the southern coast. It was a technique that the Anaphite had long thought lost.
He returned it, smiling openly and with warmth. It wasn't the most comforting thing, though anyone who knew the intent would have found it rather charming on a small dog. As it stood, a muscled mountain of Divine servant was difficult to find adorable. He followed once more.
Pottery, copper jewelry, golden crafts, instruments from across the world...
HotepseAken stopped. He almost laughed, seeing a sign that read "Chicken Left Shutter" in Anaphite, and beneath it "Ancient Relics". He simply had to correct this, lest he actually snicker.
He approached the stand, likely gaining an annoyed sigh from his escorts once more. The more pompous of the riders likely was finding the wordless departures annoying already, though his new... acquaintance, Amandim, was likely close behind. This was, after all, a learning moment. The Anaphite was approaching a relic stand, things foraged from long ago.
HotepseAken looked over the wares, the merchant trying to regain his poise and make his pitch. The Anaphite ignored him; this was too good. They were, of course, forgeries. All of them. Still, the wording was beautiful.
"Children Sunset" Hotepse read aloud, turning from a mendelian to another clay jug, "Lizard lizard lizard lizard, spelled wrong each time..."
He shook his head, before noticing one item in particular. He picked it up, hearing yet ignoring the cries of "You have to buy that!"
Quickly, HotepseAken scratched a few corrections into the ceramic. A change here, an adjustment there, "Much better. The grammar was off, I am afraid," he said at last, looking down to the merchant, "though this was your best yet... that one though," he motioned to a jeweled scarab, "that's total nonsense, unfortunately."
HotepseAken shook his head, smiling, and began to return again. The Bazaar was impressive, yet the inner gates to the larger city awaited. The were open already, likely at the start of the day, and the entourage proceeded within. Hotepse for his part wasn't slackjawed here, though the modesty beautifully understated what artistic expression reigned.
Sculpted plantlife, organized rugs and pottery, the symmetry and chaos all about in the perfect expression of care and focus, it was all beautiful. The people tended their small beauties with such diligence as to lend an aesthetic of intricacy not distracted by opulent over-stimulation. The people rebelled against moderation with an excess of detail, fine lines across woodwork, outerwalls carefully shaped to fit the profile of the entire street. The entourage walked on, the castle he presumed awaiting them.
It was quite the fortress; he could even smell water flowing nearby, hearing the sounds of birds a short ways away. If anything seemed out of place, it was the lack of running water throughout the city. For some reason, HotepseAken had anticipated, or perhaps hoped, for public fountains to populate the city more liberally. Few gardens as well, sadly. He sighed to himself, his smile fading away to his perpetual mild scowl.
Sey'Kube was an attractive, rich, yet humble city. The heat of clay dust and the fragrance of flowers and spices polluted the air like a song. Music too could be heard, fairly easily at that, throughout the entire city. Here in its head, atop it all, he saw nothing more to impress beyond what had been seen so far.
HotepseAken was uncertain who, or what, was to happen next. All the same, he was eager to begin. His parade came to a halt, banners fluttering, cavalry lined up in neat order amid the court yard.
They had succeeded: the Grand Physician was in Sey'Kube.