Private Tales The Family

[Mahat]

It wasn't that she necessarily disliked her family, it was that she disliked being social, even if that meant interacting with her older sibling. They both tried to make it home at least once in a decade, if not more, though it was rather rare that they both returned around the same time. Fortunately, such moments were brief. Unfortunately, it was proper protocol to visit. That and their mother insisted rather pointedly on the matter.

Personally, Mahat would have rather spent the day buried in research or perfecting her casting. As it was, she found herself casually striding through the hustle and bustle of the Necropolis' market. While she wasn't as persnickety about noise compared to her older compatriots in the temple, she had her limits. The saving grace was that, at the very least, she could pick up another set of robes and, perhaps, more casting materials. Maybe her parents had been right. Maybe she had picked up a touch of Aquilian pragmatism since the treaty.

"So," she began, her stride attempting to match her older, and bigger, brother's. "Mother said you've been spending most of your time to the heathen south, across the water? I can't imagine that retracing our ancestors' steps would be of much educational use."

HotepseAken

 

[HotepseAken]

"And why is that?" Hotepse said with a calm, bemused tone; "Is it not beyond ourselves to forget lessons once learned?"

He idly stopped, his mendicant staff clacking against the limestone of the market square. A hand reached down and clutched a fruit, dates to be precise. The Gnoll organizing the stall regarded him patiently, avoiding the usual hawking and promises of quality that others usually got. He turned it over, feeling its freshness, before taking a bite. A moment to savor, then a smile.

"Yes.... a deben," he said looking back to his baby sister, "What of you, ah..." he stumbled, trying to recall what her name was now, "Mahat; yes, would you care to share?"

It was his usual style. Be asked a question, answer in riddles, move on for a time, and then circle around to an honest answer. Mahat knew his song and dance, likely as well as he did.

"I find fresh fruit to be a wonderful reminder," he idly as the Gnoll measured it out, "that there is life beyond our tasks. Djokhpur disagrees, of course..." He shrugged, "yet I feel Father and Mother shall appreciate the treat."

A perk to being a priest, never having to carry money on you. If you wanted something, it was provided. In return, you would render services freely. The fruit was scooped up by Hotepse once it was balanced and they simply put it in their own scale atop their mendicant staff. They turned and left, the clack of the copper cap on their staff ringing gently.

"A soft wind blows across those dunes," Hotepse said with the measured calm Mahat had come to expect from him, "It uncovers things. Reveals. Things lost, things forgotten, things..." he turns, mid stride, looking down at his baby sister, "... buried."

He held a gaze upon her; his eyes, white and faintly glowing from centuries of life contrasted to her fresh, very much so mortal red eyes. It was a symptom, the glow and solid color, of the Anaphite diet. After the first thousand souls, they would turn solid. Some unremembered time after that, they gleamed with the life energy of so many others.

"I have seen these things," he turns and resumes his pace, slow and favoring his right leg. It was inflexible, not shifting properly, as if his tendons were too tight, "our own lost arts. I have recorded what I found useful, left the rest to be recovered another day by another soul."

The gate into the Inner Sanctum, the heart of the Necropolis, lay ahead. Six Temple Knights, armed and armored with axes fit to cut down a giant, stood on either side impassively. They did not so much as blink as the two siblings drew closer. Neither did Hotepse, for that matter.

"You should try one," the eldest said, casting his gaze back to his sister, his face and tone neutral and serious, "Come, little ear... One date. Tis' good for a young woman, it will help keep you strong."

 

[Mahat]

"No, thank you. The texture is displeasing to my palette," she replied cooly, though honestly. She had bristled slightly at her childhood nickname, but said nothing. She hated the name, but considering only her brother called her such, and only occasionally, was tolerable. Mostly. Anyone else wouldn't be so lucky.


The other information he'd given was more intriguing and she mulled it over as they walked. Ahead were the gates with their guards. Around walked gnolls and humans as the bought or sold or gawked at their surroundings. Here and there she spotted others of her kind and other, more uncommon species such as the occasion orc. Barbaric and ugly, but strong and useful in her opinion.


"I hardly think there's much to rediscover in ancient sand and ruins. Anything of applicable use would have been passed on and kept. Perhaps an ancient date bread recipe might be found, but I find the likelihood of arcane artefacts and knowledge to be minimal, at best. Perhaps your skills would be better use to the east? I heard the high priests and the Aquilian Consuls decided to expand east into the barbarian steppes."

HotepseAken

 

[HotepseAken]

The outer sanctum was a-whirl with activity. A few Anaphite sat and talked, a ranger coming back from a patrol and enjoying the company of her husband. The open light, fresh breeze, and vibrant growth marked the outer sanctum a place of life. While their destination was through the imposing doors deeper in, Hotepse decided to detour, wandering off to a fountain and practically dragging his sister off their intended path.

"I beheld AtenSe in my travels," he said with a warmth of voice not often used, "The legends about the creatures are true; beautiful and mighty. To think..."

He looked across at a pack of Gnolls; a Matriarch with eight pups, her three husbands trying to control the rambunctious children while she lounged. The inner sanctum was, in some ways, a city center and a park both. Many would come to the Necropolis for freedom from the busy city, to see something manicured and cared for.

"... the Gnolls used to ride them. Did you know that?" He asked, turning to his sister, "Yes, indeed. Within those old tombs, I found memories of their lives before our exodus. Such... fascinating, life. That is why I travel, dear sister. To discover."

He turned, finally heading towards the inner sanctum and the siblings goal. HotepseAken walked quietly for a moment. He was reflective before speaking next, posing a question of his own which was roused by a group of Aquilians, one of which a senator, and Mahat's own question earlier.

"Why should I concern myself with this Cipran Republic?" He asked, looking over to her as he spoke, "I have seen nations rise and fall. What makes this one so different that I should act in its interest when I have nothing to gain?"

Those Anaphite that worked alongside the Cipran Legions were almost always junior doctors and priests, the ones who needed experience and training. A master such as himself was worth more than an entire unit of Anaphite doctors within a Legion; his skill was wasted on the wounded. There was no challenge to it. He snatched a date S they finally passed the threshold, from the garden of life into the halls of the dead.

HotepseAken snacked, walking into the inner sanctum and it's dark corridors. Witchfires burned on the walls, fueled from the magic of the secret Anaphite lores. Alcoves in the dark radiated death, mummified bodies from countless Humans, Orcs, and even Centaurs. All in the singular pursuit their face followed, the obsession with knowledge.

"Why should I be beholden to the needs of these mortals?" HotepseAken asked, a pair of priests walking past calmly, hands full of organs in need of dissection, "So many more are ignorant, lack the knowledge of the healing arts most fundamental principles. How can I ever save enough lives," he came to a rest, stopping near a statue of an Anaphite woman holding a gold-inlaid book in her hands, "if I do not spread my knowledge wide?"

He was silent here, standing before the statue. A moment passed; what the siblings had come to do was at hand.

"Hello, mother," he spoke solemnly with deep respect, "Mahat and I have come to visit you. I brought you something..."

He scooped up the dates and knelt before their mother, depositing them into an offering bowl. Witchfire sprung forth, the vital energy and Ba of the fruit drawn out and consumed by their mother's souls.

"It's a shame," he said quietly to Mahat, "that I can only heal so many. Others need more than Cipra. The wants of mere humans is outweighed by the needs of civilizations."