Mahad (
narcmagician) wrote in
digipara2025-01-12 06:54 pm
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magical trevor's back from his hiatus (for
knifemonopoly)
He tries not to worry about the hometown he'd left behind - the wisewoman one village down the river had mentored him, after all, so he knows the people's spiritual defense is in good hands. He tries to take each criticism he receives from the other priests to heart, the better to become worthy of the honor which landed at his doorstep when a messenger from the Pharaoh Himself (life, prosperity, and health to him!) arrived seeking the magician with enough heka to part the Nile. More than anything else, he tries to suppress the Ring: no, he suppresses the Ring, for if he should succumb for even a moment and let it feed on his own darkness, then Kemet too will fall. This is a burden, but one he gladly bears.
No, he dislikes the palace because it is simply too large. And the larger the place he takes his apprentice......the more places she finds to avoid him.
He can sense heka emanating from a pot in the courtyard, but it contains no stain of ill will, so he doesn't bother looking in. Instead, he simply stands next to the pot and inquires: ]
Is that where you're reading your lessons, Mana?
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....
....
....
A light snore comes from inside the vase.]
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This is a new level of negligence. Mahad stifles a sigh.
Then he lifts a finger, and ever so slightly, rattles the pot with his magic. He may as well turn this into a learning experience or a test, see whether his pupil can respond to sensing heka so near while asleep. (Though for her own sake, he does wish she'll never have to.) ]
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zzz...
zzz...
...thE WORLD IS SHAKING WHAT'S GOING ON WHAT'S HAPPENED?!]
Aaah! I'm sorry!
[A bald little head with a child's braided side lock pops up out of the pot quick as a startled cat. He looks around in alarm, red-brown eyes wide, fingers gripping the clay.
IS IT AN EARTHQUAKE. IS IT THE GODS. ARE THEY MAD HE'S SKIPPING CLASS?]
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M-my prince! A thousand apologies....
[ Mahad drops to one knee immediately, head bowed, mind racing. What was Prince Atem doing within - no, that is a ridiculous question, the boy is still a boy, is he not? Merely two years Mana's senior. Mahad is a fool to have jumped to conclusions. That is the sort of oversight that would permit thieves to penetrate the Valley of the Kings. Even when not doing his duties, he lacks capability for them. ]
I mistook Your presence for my pupil's. For disturbing Your rest, I beg Your pardon.
[ Wipe his memory, murmurs a voice - less than a voice, an impulse - and no one will know.
Fiend, thinks Mahad in return, and ignores it. ]
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He isn't acting like a teacher.]
I've seen you before, [Atem says, still standing in the pot, which comes up about to his chest.] Are you a tutor or a priest?
[He doesn't think any of the other priests teach. Atem sort of thought their job was to hang around the king doing magic.]
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[ He lifts his head slightly, but not enough to meet the boy's eyes - that would be improper. Only enough so the boy can get a good look at the Ring and thereby confirm his words. ]
But before I was summoned to this duty, I was a magician with a student. She accompanied me here.
Her name is Mana.
[ He thinks the Prince might have met her, but honestly cannot be sure. He listens to Mana when she tells him of her day, but she's not the best at getting people's names when she meets them.......or at telling a clear, concise narrative....... ]
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But Atem's face lights up when Mana is mentioned by name.]
!!
You're Mana's master!
[They absolutely met. They'd played together with all the excitement of two people around the same age who immediately discovered they got along, and nothing but the fun had really mattered.
He's now excited to meet Mahad.]
She says you're a really powerful magician. The best! I knew you weren't a tutor. Tutors don't admit it when they're wrong. But priests do!
[Said triumphantly, like he's showing his work.]
I guess magicians do, too...
i had a whole lecture typed out but they're not there yet orz
We do.
[ "Ask him if princes sleep in pots."
Mahad will not. ]
Especially when we wrong someone we serve.
[ He means this, and not merely because he's speaking to the son of the Living Horus. The people of any given village need to trust the person creating their spells and medicines. Ideally he would earn this trust by never making an error, but barring that, it he makes a mess - he fixes it. He owes that from the most humble villager to, well, the future Pharaoh.
Even when said future Pharoah is standing in a pot. ]
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...it's okay.
I thought it was an earthquake. Or the gods were mad because I was hiding from Sennedjem's lessons.
....
[He seems to shrink a little. He doesn't want to go back to classes, he's sleepy...they always make him get up so early to start learning before dawn, before it gets hot...and after that, there's fighting practice, which is even worse. Atem has never liked gym.]
Are you going to tell him I'm here?
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So young, and has taken Mahad's words to heart in a manner the magician had not intended. The sort of lecture on negligence he might give Mana is completely out of place here - unlike his pupil, young Atem worries about consequences. Just not enough, in the immediate moment, to resist hiding away.
And Mahad finds himself with a similar predicament. Be a responsible adult, or bow to the will of the Prince?
Hmmm. ]
I should.
[ The Prince is a clever boy, so Mahad trusts that he'll understand the potential expressed by his not saying "I will."
Mahad shifts his posture again, still kneeling to his Prince but this time moving so he can talk more easily with the boy. It wouldn't do to loom - not over his better, and of equal importance, not over a child. ]
Why don't you like his lessons?
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This new priest is easier to trust than a teacher. And Mana trusts him, which is already a point in his favor. Atem can tell him the truth. He shouldn't lie, right?
He pulls a breath.]
The lessons are hard, [he says -- complaining, yes, but that's not the end of it.] And it's cold before the sun comes up, and it's dark, and it's hard not to fall asleep. If I fall asleep, they just make me wake up, but if the others look sleepy...
[He chews on his bottom lip. This part is harder to talk about -- how the tutors won't ever hit him, but they'll strike the other students learning with him as punishment.]
Or if they get the answer wrong...
[He knows, technically, that it's supposed to make them more motivated not to give wrong answers. But really, it just makes Atem resent the whole thing. He's only still trying because Father says it's important and he should, and he can't see a way out of it for long. Defying Father just doesn't happen.
Today, he saw his chance and took it. But Atem knows he'll be brought back eventually, and the lessons will go on.]
And I don't like wrestling, or fighting with swords. I'm never going to win really. They let me win when I get the holds right, but that doesn't count.
[He's small and not very strong, and maybe one day that will change, but he's no match for a fully developed adult fighter right now. He resents both not being able to win and being given a meaningless victory, and is whining about it.]
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Don't be coy. You know who you're thinking about. If THAT priest knew what you could do -
This is not about him. It is about Atem. What sort of a Pharaoh will a boy like this become? Mahad finds he's honored that he'll get to discover that firsthand. ]
In other words, You want things to be fair. [ A quandary indeed. No wonder the Prince's characterization of tutors are "people who don't admit when they're wrong." There's nothing inherently incorrect about Pharaoh's son receiving special privileges....
But Mahad can't bring himself to trample that caring heart. He wants to support it. He wants to live in a Kemet ruled by a man who thought like this as a boy. So he puts a hand to his chin and gives Atem's issue the same grave consideration he'd give, well, news of grave-robbing. ]
That is tricky. Would You like to solve it yourself, or may I offer my help?
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[He's tried to solve it himself.
He's spoken up, stood and shouted, brought it to his father -- all to no avail. Nothing's actually changed. Nothing's become less unfair. Atem's not given up, but he's at a loss.
I've already tried everything I can think of, the boy thinks to himself. I might as well try magic.]
Really? Do you think you can?
[He sounds hopeful. Mahad is powerfully magic, and also, just as importantly, several years older -- and maybe the combination of the two will be enough.]
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[ A small, sad shake of his head - but then he's resolute, working through the issue. A tutor who beats the other children but not the Prince, and opponents who throw the match when the boy would otherwise lose. Both have the same cause but take very different forms. ]
But you have the fullness of my might behind you, Prince.
[ How to resolve this, though. Is it his place to bring the boy's complaints to Pharaoh? Perhaps to Siamun....but if the vizier had opposed this situation, it would have been changed already. Or he could speak to the tutor....
Or. He could try something a little more creative. People come to the local magician for unconventional problem-solving, after all. He'd be a poor assistant if he weren't capable of thinking outside the
magical hatsbox. ]Would you and the other pupils like to tour a tomb?
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[He nods, brightly!]
Yes!
[He's sure everyone else would love to get out of their reading and writing and arithmetic for a while, too. Tombs aren't the most fun thing Atem can think of, but he'll take a dull walk around someplace new over school-as-usual.
All kids like field trips.]
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I will speak to your tutor right away. We will say -
[ Hm. To explain Atem's lateness... ]
- you were delayed by a chance for me to teach you about heka. And it is good for you to know more of the magic in tombs.
[ Atem wants actions to have consequences, including his own, and Mahad wants to honor that. But he also has held up the boy longer than he would have if he'd sent the Prince along to lessons immediately, and Atem facing consequences for that isn't just, either.
So Mahad rattles the pot again, but very, very gently. Then he raises a finger and wags it, somewhat cheeky. Conspiratorial. ]
Neither of those is a lie, is it?
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The firsthand demonstration of magic clinches it. Atem's little fingers with their neat nails grip the rim excitedly as it shakes, and he giggles like he's on a roller coaster ride.]
It's not a lie! [he agrees. Atem clambers out of the pot when it stills, rolling over the side and dropping onto sandaled feet with a little tap! He flings his arm out, pointing ahead to the part of the palace where morning classes usually happen, and declares grandly:] Let's go to the tomb!
[Time to collect the other students and go!]
i'm making an assumption about atem's heka battery here but. stares at everything abt atem.
As my Prince wishes.
[ His Prince will have to lead the way, since he's much more familiar with where the noble children receive their lessons. Disturbing the tutor like this might start them at a disadvantage.....but Mahad thinks he knows what to do. The tutor is likely not an evil man, not when he's trusted with such important charges. Simply, it sounds like, self-satisfied. The sort of man who shows his respect by indulgence. Under some kings, this would be an asset. This (future) king simply happens to be different.
And if Mahad is wrong, if the tutor does bear his pupils ill intent - the Ring will know. And Mahad will be ready. He is armed with his position as a Priest, his Millennium Item, and the sort of knowledge only he as a magician possesses. That will help.
.....Speaking of the latter, though. He'd mistaken Atem's heka for Mana's, an apprentice magician. Atem will find that Mahad is glancing at him as they walk. It's not surprising that the living Horus-to-be would be blessed with power, but does the boy know....? Is magic part of royal heir instruction? Now that the Millennium Items and their wielder answer to Pharaoh, it seems prudent...But perhaps suggesting as much would not be his place.... ]
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But, eventually, he clocks it.
He checks his clothes, first, for something dirty he hasn't noticed.
...
Yeah, they're dirty from being inside the pot.]
Do you think I should put on clean clothes....?
[He has to be really, really clean to go into the temples. Are tombs the same?]
Sorry I got it dirty. I didn't know I was going into a tomb...
meanwhile the ring like "blessed be the who now, i have an idea how to fuck w this guy"
If You feel it best, You may. But I doubt the resting dead will mind.
[ He'd noticed Mahad staring. Was that it? ]
Apologies if my behavior caused You concern. Your words have given me much to think about regarding Your education.
[ He could ask the Prince. Couldn't he? Atem seems to be an open scroll. ]
My Prince, if I may exert indiscretion - are You being trained in magic?
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Only the writing kind.
[Not magic magic. Not the kind where you can make things move, or summon a ka. Just the sort of thing where you draw a snake, and maybe, in the afterlife, someone will have a problem with snakes. Or if you write nice words on a tablet and pour water over it, nice things will happen to the person who drinks the water. Boring!!]
there's no reason for the ring to sound this way yet but I DO, WHAT I WANT,,
But that's not what Mahad is concerned about with this boy. ]
What do You know of the other kinds?
[ "Tell him the truth," urges the Ring, the desire surging up within Mahad. "Tell him what I've eaten, what I've amplified. Tell him his justice is drenched in darkness."
The Millennium Items are tools of peace, Mahad reminds himself, firm. Because of the will of the wielder. Just because this Ring's first bearer had great darkness within his heart does not mean the Items themselves, the regime, is -
He swears he can almost hear a chuckle.
He swears the chuckle stutters. ]
It's fineeeeee
[He's misremembering some details about Djedi. It was animals, not the magician himself.]
And the ones that are pretty good can summon their ka to fight for them.
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Not merely their own. When You inherit the Millennium Pendant, You will also wield others' ka. That is why I suspect You will benefit from learning many kinds of magic.
[ Is he being too bold? He's being too bold. And yet - this boy. It's unrefined, but....the potential he senses. Not merely with the Ring, but with his own dampened senses. There's.....there's something about this boy. ]
I shall teach You and your classmates of tomb magic today. And if Your tutors and esteemed father, may he live!, are amenable, You may sit in on a class with Mana.
[ And, because this boy likes things to be fair: ]
As may your classmates.
[ Is he going to partially solve the favoritism issue by bribing the students with magic lessons so everybody will behave? Maybe. It can only help them serve their Pharaoh later..... ]
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But the light on his face clouds over for a moment, and his nose wrinkles as something occurs to him.]
...how much math is in Mana's class? And writing?
[what if he's just trading one boring symbols memorization morning for another??]
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Thus it is he can give this response without smiling. ]
None.
1/2
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He definitely is.
He reaches the door where the class is usually held, and -- pauses, just a moment, outside. Atem isn't shrinking back out of fear of the tutor, but the task ahead of him; a cowardly and unworthy and unwise part of him remembers that maybe, this would be easier if he bolted. It's not a part driven by reason or logic, just...child's instincts. He rests his hand on it, but doesn't push yet.
He glances back at Mahad. Is this going to be okay? Is it going to go the way they want?]
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He calls out: ]
Pardon the interruption, sir tutor. High Priest Mahad, of the Millennium Ring, requires the attention of yourself and your class.
[ He can hear the children shifting, murmuring in spite of themselves, curious. Wielding this sort of power - political power - does not come naturally to him. He feels wooden-footed. Clunky. This is not his oeuvre.
But if it's to help his future King achieve a dream of fairness, he'll brandish the weapon his appointment has handed him.
So now. Let's see whether Prince Atem's assessment of the tutor is accurate. ]