The Kingdom of Gods. {{AU RP}}
The year was 2144 BC. The land of Ancient Egypt was as divided again following the death of King Pepi II and the subsequent end of the sixth dynasty. So divided was this land that even in name they differed; the area around the delta was commonly known as ‘Lower Egypt’ while further north laid the lands known as ‘Upper Egypt’. The Blue Nile, the most significant of three tributaries that fed the great river that was the sole lifeblood of the Egyptians, had swollen again under the summer sun, the force of its rushing waters alone damming back the waters from the White Nile. These waters had once again flooded the river banks and would soon leave belts of Kemet behind them so that the farming could begin. Despite the division, it looked to be a prosperous year, at least, with two successful crops on the horizon. Overseeing this rushing river, just a few miles north of the first cataract and a few miles north of Luxor, was a young Ciel, dressed in loose white linen that whipped around his legs in the breeze as he stood under the burning heat of the sun. His eyes were of unusual colouring. A fault - a curse? - to be kept shielded. Eyes lowered, almost always, to avoid provoking hostility – a bright and vibrant blue where there ought to have been a deep brown. The cursed colouration had left him isolated over years and at eighteen the boy had turned to pottery to make a living simply because it was something he could do in relative isolation. Presently, however, he was too busy eyeing the bustling market centre of Nubt across the river to be concerned with such things. The market centre there was ideally placed, trading regularly in beautiful gold that reminded him of the head of Horus (the local God of his home, Nekheb), whose golden hawk head was worshipped in the local temple. Ciel recalled vividly the obsidian black eyes that shone in its head. They were piercing and polished to perfection, giving the head of the God a frighteningly realistic edge. It had often been said in the past that the Pharaohs of Egypt were incarnations of Horus – yet where were they now? Such weak lineage, it was disappointing. And if the Gods were absent from this world... Well, where was the need for morality? It was for this reason that he had arranged to meet his raven-haired friend at the river’s edge that day, away from the fisherman and a small distance from the town; this was not a conversation for the ears of unwanted listeners, unless he wanted to end up slaughtered.
