Re! shouted royal falcon unto the sun; Re! why have You turned Your face against us?
khaemwaset was burning; he stood outside beneath the violent eye of heat and felt its shimmer rake every piece of moisture from his body. tongue lolled; head swam. he did not know why he had come out of the obelisk, only that as he swayed in the fiery air, he sought for some meaning.
burned paws carried him back in unflinching limp, and the call was thus:
the gods wish to purify satriya.
the gods would slay them if they remained, ashes piled where their budding kingdom had begun.
he took nothing; he sought only his sister, addled, footpads peeled.
we must go, khaemwaset grit to her ears.
lotswife glance-back to the pinnacle rearing against the sky. he was ill twice in retreat, mouth washed by tears of rage and a trembling insistence that he accept all the will of the gods.
they would return. they would return to shape the earth as they had been ordained to do. it was the destiny of pharaoh and queen.