Hotep was not a warrior. Not a god.

Not a man deserving of pride.

But he saw, now, the culmination of so much effort — the call of Osiris to do that which was fitting for a Priest.

Sing.

Lift Ra's solar barque back into the sky! Banish the dark chaos of the serpent! Resurrect Life-Giving Warmth to all Mythris!

This he could do. Would do. For he had passed through death and been raised again in service to Khaemwaset and Merneith, and they had seen fit to name him their Seer. Where he failed once before to perform the tasks demanded by the Cosmos, and guide his pharaoh in the keeping of Ma'at... here, now, he would not.

And as the Light did pierce that pervasive Dark, Hotep solidified forever his certainty that their cause was Justice incarnate and their kingdom divinely ordained.

In Egyptian, he hymned words known by heart, meant to welcome the birth of a new day:

Hail to you, Ra, at your rising, Atum-Horakhty
I worship you, your beauty in my eyes
May your radiance be upon my breast
You proceed and set in the Mesketet boat
Your heart dilated in the Mandjet boat
You cross the sky in peace
All your enemies having fallen
The indefatigable stars praise you
The indestructible stars worship you
You set in the horizon of Manu
Being complete as Ra, every day
Living and enduring as my lord
Ra, true of voice

We didn't like that dream. We like chaos, but this felt wrong. The portals before her were confusing. Was she supposed to go in? Where was Mama? Where were her siblings? She paced for a moment, closing her eyes and hoping this was a bad dream and we would wake up back in the warm fur pile. Sadly, this wasn't the case, and anxiety gripped her chest, so without thinking, she slipped through the first portal. It was dark, so dark. She wanted to cry out for her family and find them, but she felt her ears lower as she ran blindly through the sea of darkness and others.

Sprinting, she saw a familiar figure, Daddy? It was Daddy and a lady. Discordia barreled towards them, her small frame slipping under Jaxxons.  She saw something shiny in the distance and peered out from between Jaxxon's front paws. Daddy and the lady were howling; she would, too. She didn't really understand what was happening, not entirely, but her small voice rang out. A slightly pitchy but determined voice. At least with Daddy here, she felt less alone, but the thought of Mama and her siblings not being here caused her to cry out louder, more firmly, as she hoped they were okay too.

---

— artwork: Lines are watermarked design by I believe Castle or Sol ·
Common Speech

He'd been told of the oddities this world contained, of the magic that coursed through the roots of the earth, of the great fissures to the unknowable below. His very existence here was all the indication needed for Bogart to believe the incalculable but the land seemed voracious, vicious, so hellbent on him intimately witnessing its capabilities—its significance. It left his stomach upturned and his chest a mess of unforgiving thumps of his heart as though it was trying to tear right through him.

But as the dream peeled away to leave him muddle-minded and unsteady, even as the air split and brought forth three... doors, the last thing on his mind was the consequences of such a sprawling fracture of the world.

Bogart could only think about Raisa.

His senses returned to him at a molasses drip and he found his legs in tandem, coughing, searching. " Raisa?" He called out, bracing against the raging storm. The winters he'd experienced had never been so brutal. It hurt to so much as blink with the way the winds whipped and spat, forcing him to narrow his gaze and shrink the scope of his world. "Raisa!" His persistence was rewarded, at least. Shoving through the blizzard; through the resistance, he spotted her. Stark and bold against the vast nothing around them.

Standing right at that second door. Wraith-wolves slunk, teeth met flesh, blood spilled. He had no troubles with fighting, no compunction in baring teeth when he ought to. In another life, at an earlier time, he'd have hurried forward and through the door, beckoned by a call to defend... but he wasn't that man anymore, was he?

Bogart had more to think about than impulsive gnashing.

Now? He was going to be a father, he had pups that'd need him of sound body and mind to assure their safety. Now? He was something to Raisa and she was so much to him; lover, mother of his children, the woman he'd traveled all this way for and with and—

—"Don't!" Bogart hollered, hoping the storm hadn't silenced him.

As he neared he could see the consideration on her face, the indecision. He didn't blame her. Hell, if she charged forward, he'd have gone with her, but the mere thought of it sickened him. What would he do if she was hurt? Injured beyond repair? "We can go through the first!" He said, teeth in a grit. "Stay with me. I know what life like was 'fore you, don't make me wonder if I'll have to know what it's like after ya'."

It was a selfish thing to say.

He didn't regret it.

"Think 'bout the pups at least," he reasoned. "Please."

Whether it was his greedy plead or the mention of their children, he couldn't tell, but he knew something had shifted her his direction. He nodded, pressed to her side in a fleeting gesture of comfort, and then turned.

Stepped through the door.

The darkness was all-encompassing, swollen by this cacophony of voices, and he waited. Breathed.

And tilted his nose to the sky, letting out a long, ceaseless howl.

Skill:

---

---

Sleep was ruined by nightmares of the land.

Screams of tortured things and cracks of ragged breaks rose her that night. She woke to an unraveling of dreams that opened three doors. Doors that lead her to things she didn't quite fathom. They were explained in great detail and she felt her heart shatter with the reality of it all. Raisa and Northfall... What would become of them all if Mythris collapsed? She gritted her teeth against the choices as she observed them before her.

The first, a door that opened to darkness. Shadows crawled across a fighting sun that threatened to disappear, howls and cries echoed across the lands. Amongst the chorus there was the faint distant shouting's of a wolf screaming her complaints to the sky, along with the a broken groan that was a feeble attempt at a howl.

The second, filled with screeches and growls, the sounds of battle upon the winds as wraiths attacked a tree. She assumed this was the tree of life, their tree. The one they were birthed from. Underneath roots lay bones cradled together and a golden shimmering flower that shone weakly against the onslaught of attacks. The taste of clashing teeth made her mouth water, but she remembered Raisa...

The third, a wolf lay shackled amongst chains and many wolves struggled to break it free. Two wolves, a pale beast and a tri colored monster went for it's throat. Sera shuddered at the thought of the unknow and what it might mean...

Suddenly above it all she heard Raisa's howl, her song. She rose above it all and tangled with hers was the deep voice of a male, but she didn't pay it much mind at the time. Right now she had to join Raisa and help the world. Leaping through into the splitting darkness without a second thought Sera sailed through the doorway to land into the unknwon.

It was cold, biting and frigid, the winds bit at her skin as she struggled to come to the side of her Sister and Bogart. Being the friendly woman she was she dipped a head to the man in greeting and came to the other side of her kin. She bumped her shoulder with Raisa and gave her an affectionate bump with her head before she too threw back her head and sang to the sky.

She sang for Raisa, for Northfall, for Mythris.

[the dreaming and the open. senmut did not close his eyes as he surrendered to the burning cold of that rushing fire, drawn without hesitation by the fervency of his own heart -- and a conception that if he could find his daughter's mother, all might be restored for aiesha. shouting. howling. the Sun cried in senmut's very marrow and he winced, staggering into someone only to pull away -- somewhere, someone sang. no -- two sang, and one with a voice so familiar that the former pharaoh caught his breath. Ra bellowed with ire -- Your heart dilated in the Mandjet boat.. and here senmut began to sing, unknowing of who carried the voice, only letting his resonant own carry up and up that beautiful voice to the place of the barge and the holy light. he knew this hymn, heard machiavelli's tones, sang harder to the Sun which groaned to be free.]

the dreaming and the open.

senmut did not close his eyes as he surrendered to the burning cold of that rushing fire, drawn without hesitation by the fervency of his own heart -- and a conception that if he could find his daughter's mother, all might be restored for aiesha.

shouting. howling. the Sun cried in senmut's very marrow and he winced, staggering into someone only to pull away --

somewhere, someone sang. no -- two sang, and one with a voice so familiar that the former pharaoh caught his breath. Ra bellowed with ire --

Your heart dilated in the Mandjet boat..

and here senmut began to sing, unknowing of who carried the voice, only letting his resonant own carry up and up that beautiful voice to the place of the barge and the holy light. he knew this hymn, heard machiavelli's tones, sang harder to the Sun which groaned to be free.

There are things wrong in the world.

But the homebody finally had a real chance to do something.

Lifting his head to the sky, Spider joined in with the chorus to banish the long dark.

༻❁༺

---

It was not a call to action as much as it was a summons.
To what, Yue could see quite clearly:

Rarely did dreams have so much agency. They were like a story that happened, and she was their captive audience – willing, or unwilling. This one was different. Where she looked, she saw different options. Different horrors, each of which spoke to a different part of her soul. Her self-preservation. The obligation to the Dynasty that had been drilled into her since birth.

She was filled with an urge to choose. Yue hurled herself into the corner of the universe, which spoke of love and beauty and song.

As a young child, learning to sing had been her favorite of lessons. It was so much more fulfilling than the other requirements of history and strategy, though a younger Yue had taken a penchant for languages due to their proximity to song and poetical composure. Her instructors had taught her that singing brought peace and harmony, where once there was only discord.

Would they be proud of her, now? For living this purpose so deeply, that her voice was akin to a blade on a battlefield?

At first, the Empress did not know if her eyes were open or closed. When she thought they were open, all was white. When she squeezed them shut, all was black. The roar of the winds was persistent through either.

Behind the cacophony, it rang true. The voices of others, some more graceful than others, but all joining together to banish the long night. It might have only been her awareness becoming clearer, but it was as if the voices amplified and became louder. If she squinted her eyes, somewhere between open and closed, she could even see them though the frigid chill.

Though her lips refused to move (they felt quite frozen), eventually she urged them into her accustomed positioning, and she sang. Nothing with words or phrases, nothing that needed to be understood to be felt.

Yue, no more an Empress than the other souls that joined around her, wrapped everything that plagued her around the carrier of her voice, and unleashed it to the Gods.

Perhaps, now, the Crystal Dragon would listen to her.

---

༻❁༺

Xvan'tay banks. Wind whistles in a low howl past the tips of her wings, and below the wolves are singing.

What feels like a lifetime ago- when she'd been learning with Yatixil- they'd make her pitch her own tents on the mountainside. A hunter needs to learn the land, they'd say, in that low growling voice of theirs. It had been scary when she was a kid, but she'd never admitted that to anyone, least of all them, and eventually when she got confident and had her own familiar with her it stopped being terrifying at all.

But she'd lain there, a lot of nights, and just listened. To the sound of insects in the trees, or the chirp of birds, wind in the leaves, the thunder and heavy downpour of a summer night. And the wolves. They'd howl back and forth for what felt like hours, in a way that made her skin prickle at first, waiting for one of them to leap into her tent at any moment. And then in a way that felt like... comfort.

Xan'tay doesn't have the throat to howl, or the hands to hold an instrument, or the lips to blow air into one even if she could. But she has an eagle's voice- and when she lifts her head in a long shrieking call to join the wolves, she imagines long summer days on the mountain, and Yasa'at's midyear ceremonies, and sunlight breaking through the clouds.