Snippet #2724709

The scaled ones were strong. That became clear with the display of power the Lady used to ensure she would not be accosted further. Jaws like a primordial serpent, lighting ripped from the heart of a storm, larger than a war-tent of a king. Truly a being to observe.

Yet, when the thoughts of the Lady worked their way into his mind, there was a period of silence. Sekhemkare was staring at the sun, through the massive windows ringing the staircase. It had been a cool day, and now it was little more that a ribbon of orange cresting the dunes. He was seeking visions, and finding them. One could find the future in the sun, his people knew this. At times, it would hesitate to rise or set, for fear that it may not get the chance to grace the world again. On days which it blazed hot enough to crack stone, it was watching, hungry. And some days, it would hide it's eyes, unwilling to witness the actions of those who toiled below it. Today, however, it was sedate, sluggish, and dim. He had seen it before. It was saving its brilliance for a dawn brighter than any seen in a century. Sekhemkare would do what it took to see it through. The gods were watching now.

He returned to reality, his own thoughts answered the Lady's, his mental voice possessing faint notes of strength and life. A voice that was? It was distant, whispers issuing from the depths of a tomb, a thousand locust wings beating in a human voice. But, it found it's way to the Lady nonetheless.

We slay the one who rules this land? How does a scaled one die? Blades? Fire? Honey? What silences their roars?