pharaoh slept, one arm outstretched upon the simple pelts, body accustomed to the hardness of ground beneath him. he dreamt in hieroglyphic strike of ramesses, a man he had never known, resplendent as he swept down upon enemies. a day of hunting with his nobles, a dinner spent solely in the queen's company -- khaemwaset was quite at ease. his slumber was that of one who knew he was guarded, who expected mazoi outside his bower and the jodai in portentous control of all else.
his dreaming moved to the death, the Duat of sand; to the faces of his parents, to the remembered sound of his mother's voice. as a boy did he missed her, though in waking hours to say such was not something he allowed himself.
shimmering water with surface hot from Ra's lingering touch spread before mind's eye. the oasis. palms nodded gently around khaemwaset, but as he turned, it was not to see the stone steps leading down, but the mesa of his birth.
flat-topped, scarlet, forbidding. a fortress. he could even see the tomb of ramesses' queen in small distance.
a blink and he saw satriya itself, an obelisk with countless moving bodies all around.
the red moon bore down. earlier in the day had pharaoh bowed to it, ordered that a sacrifice be made to restore the blood of Khonsu. in daytime his worries were great, but in this glorious sleep, he saw only the constant past and beautiful future.