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There was so much to look at. The caravan carrying Miri and Arih had arrived two days prior, and Miri was eager to get settled in. Colorful tents containing even more colorful people, mystical music sweeping through the camp at odd hours... but, most of all, Miri was interested in the deep, overwhelming sense of community. The performers seemed close, but it wasn’t just them. Miri could tell that even the peripheral members of the Tempest of Set were included, valued, trusted. This was a group strewn with deep, unbreakable bonds.
And these bonds were more-or-less incomprehensible to Miri, who had known precious little safety in her short life. At fifteen, she had only known the love of her little brother Arih—and his love accounted mostly to admiration rather than substantive communication—and Raziya, whose love had only been available through letters for the past six years. Nonetheless, she watched the way the acrobats walked through the camp in perfect sync, the way the beast tamer and the fire dancer shared smoldering glances, the way everyone seemed at peace with each other. A huge family, unlike anything Miri had ever known.
She did not yet trust it, this huge, writhing group. Amenemhat had assured her that she would, especially after the doctor, Rekhmire, was able to assess her strengths and weaknesses and she received a conclusive assignment. The gods were no help, either. They had grown quieter since she arrived, which Miri supposed was meant to be comforting. If they did not feel the need to talk to her, surely that meant she was on the right path. But their silence felt far from comforting, leaving Miri anxious and on-guard, eager to please but unsure what to do without guidance.
Raziya was busy training, and Arih was off somewhere, too, leaving Miri to explore the encampment on her own. Two acrobats smiled somewhat loftily as she passed them, but made no offer to help or guide her. Miri’s expression stayed neutral and open even as her stomach writhed uncomfortably. How was she meant to fill these endless hours without the guidance of the gods? She needed sound. The silence was quickly becoming deafening.
Her prayers were answered. From the tent she was passing came a chorus of faint hissing, wispy and obscured. If the gods had been murmuring, Miri might have missed it. But they quieted their buzzing long enough to show Miri where to go, knowing, as always, how best to guide her actions. She felt shame for ever having doubted as she steeled her nerves and entered the tent.
The young woman—Kesi? There were so many names to learn—was standing there, deep in concentration. Miri remembered her from when she first arrived because she was tiny but projected an aura of importance. The gods had murmured approvingly, so Miri had taken note of her face. Her eyes in particular were of interest, large, dark, and containing multitudes. Kesi was difficult to read, but the gods had deigned that Miri should try, and so she would. Easier to read were the multitude of snakes in the tent, writhing and hissing in their various enclosures. While not quite at ease with the serpents, Miri found comfort in their constant, predictable movements and quiet noises. Fascinating creatures, another magnificent creation of Ptah.
“I am sorry to intrude,” Miri murmured, still fumbling over the Egyptian words as she stared around at the nearest snakes. “I heard your snakes and wanted to see.” They filled the strange void in her head that the gods seemed to be vacating. They were what she needed. And perhaps Kesi would be a worthy guide into circus life, an introduction into the colorful and tight-knit family.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There was so much to look at. The caravan carrying Miri and Arih had arrived two days prior, and Miri was eager to get settled in. Colorful tents containing even more colorful people, mystical music sweeping through the camp at odd hours... but, most of all, Miri was interested in the deep, overwhelming sense of community. The performers seemed close, but it wasn’t just them. Miri could tell that even the peripheral members of the Tempest of Set were included, valued, trusted. This was a group strewn with deep, unbreakable bonds.
And these bonds were more-or-less incomprehensible to Miri, who had known precious little safety in her short life. At fifteen, she had only known the love of her little brother Arih—and his love accounted mostly to admiration rather than substantive communication—and Raziya, whose love had only been available through letters for the past six years. Nonetheless, she watched the way the acrobats walked through the camp in perfect sync, the way the beast tamer and the fire dancer shared smoldering glances, the way everyone seemed at peace with each other. A huge family, unlike anything Miri had ever known.
She did not yet trust it, this huge, writhing group. Amenemhat had assured her that she would, especially after the doctor, Rekhmire, was able to assess her strengths and weaknesses and she received a conclusive assignment. The gods were no help, either. They had grown quieter since she arrived, which Miri supposed was meant to be comforting. If they did not feel the need to talk to her, surely that meant she was on the right path. But their silence felt far from comforting, leaving Miri anxious and on-guard, eager to please but unsure what to do without guidance.
Raziya was busy training, and Arih was off somewhere, too, leaving Miri to explore the encampment on her own. Two acrobats smiled somewhat loftily as she passed them, but made no offer to help or guide her. Miri’s expression stayed neutral and open even as her stomach writhed uncomfortably. How was she meant to fill these endless hours without the guidance of the gods? She needed sound. The silence was quickly becoming deafening.
Her prayers were answered. From the tent she was passing came a chorus of faint hissing, wispy and obscured. If the gods had been murmuring, Miri might have missed it. But they quieted their buzzing long enough to show Miri where to go, knowing, as always, how best to guide her actions. She felt shame for ever having doubted as she steeled her nerves and entered the tent.
The young woman—Kesi? There were so many names to learn—was standing there, deep in concentration. Miri remembered her from when she first arrived because she was tiny but projected an aura of importance. The gods had murmured approvingly, so Miri had taken note of her face. Her eyes in particular were of interest, large, dark, and containing multitudes. Kesi was difficult to read, but the gods had deigned that Miri should try, and so she would. Easier to read were the multitude of snakes in the tent, writhing and hissing in their various enclosures. While not quite at ease with the serpents, Miri found comfort in their constant, predictable movements and quiet noises. Fascinating creatures, another magnificent creation of Ptah.
“I am sorry to intrude,” Miri murmured, still fumbling over the Egyptian words as she stared around at the nearest snakes. “I heard your snakes and wanted to see.” They filled the strange void in her head that the gods seemed to be vacating. They were what she needed. And perhaps Kesi would be a worthy guide into circus life, an introduction into the colorful and tight-knit family.
There was so much to look at. The caravan carrying Miri and Arih had arrived two days prior, and Miri was eager to get settled in. Colorful tents containing even more colorful people, mystical music sweeping through the camp at odd hours... but, most of all, Miri was interested in the deep, overwhelming sense of community. The performers seemed close, but it wasn’t just them. Miri could tell that even the peripheral members of the Tempest of Set were included, valued, trusted. This was a group strewn with deep, unbreakable bonds.
And these bonds were more-or-less incomprehensible to Miri, who had known precious little safety in her short life. At fifteen, she had only known the love of her little brother Arih—and his love accounted mostly to admiration rather than substantive communication—and Raziya, whose love had only been available through letters for the past six years. Nonetheless, she watched the way the acrobats walked through the camp in perfect sync, the way the beast tamer and the fire dancer shared smoldering glances, the way everyone seemed at peace with each other. A huge family, unlike anything Miri had ever known.
She did not yet trust it, this huge, writhing group. Amenemhat had assured her that she would, especially after the doctor, Rekhmire, was able to assess her strengths and weaknesses and she received a conclusive assignment. The gods were no help, either. They had grown quieter since she arrived, which Miri supposed was meant to be comforting. If they did not feel the need to talk to her, surely that meant she was on the right path. But their silence felt far from comforting, leaving Miri anxious and on-guard, eager to please but unsure what to do without guidance.
Raziya was busy training, and Arih was off somewhere, too, leaving Miri to explore the encampment on her own. Two acrobats smiled somewhat loftily as she passed them, but made no offer to help or guide her. Miri’s expression stayed neutral and open even as her stomach writhed uncomfortably. How was she meant to fill these endless hours without the guidance of the gods? She needed sound. The silence was quickly becoming deafening.
Her prayers were answered. From the tent she was passing came a chorus of faint hissing, wispy and obscured. If the gods had been murmuring, Miri might have missed it. But they quieted their buzzing long enough to show Miri where to go, knowing, as always, how best to guide her actions. She felt shame for ever having doubted as she steeled her nerves and entered the tent.
The young woman—Kesi? There were so many names to learn—was standing there, deep in concentration. Miri remembered her from when she first arrived because she was tiny but projected an aura of importance. The gods had murmured approvingly, so Miri had taken note of her face. Her eyes in particular were of interest, large, dark, and containing multitudes. Kesi was difficult to read, but the gods had deigned that Miri should try, and so she would. Easier to read were the multitude of snakes in the tent, writhing and hissing in their various enclosures. While not quite at ease with the serpents, Miri found comfort in their constant, predictable movements and quiet noises. Fascinating creatures, another magnificent creation of Ptah.
“I am sorry to intrude,” Miri murmured, still fumbling over the Egyptian words as she stared around at the nearest snakes. “I heard your snakes and wanted to see.” They filled the strange void in her head that the gods seemed to be vacating. They were what she needed. And perhaps Kesi would be a worthy guide into circus life, an introduction into the colorful and tight-knit family.
Kesi rarely allowed people in the snake tent. It was not as if she hated people. But this was one of the few places Kesi could actually focus. Her mind was not buzzing with thoughts and worries, and the ever-constant shifting of personalities would settle. She didn’t even much like Amenemhat coming into the tent.
The hissing of the snakes brought calm to Kesi. It was where she most felt she could be… well, her. She would talk to them as she worked. Tell them about her day, without worry that they would judge her. No personality was fighting to come out. Kesi was neither childish, nor greedy, nor lustful. She was calm.
“Come here,” she said gently to her newest snake. The snake moved up her arm, coiling around it. It was a fairly docile snake. “You’ll get food soon. Next week,” She cooed. Two weeks have gone by and another one week before she would feed a dead bird to the creature. “I know your siblings are eating right now. Don’t be jealous, they have to wait too.”
Kesi’s eyes bounced around the tent. She had already extracted poisons for the day, and she had already fed the snakes that needed to be fed. Now her attention was on this new guy. “Let’s see, you want to know about my day?” She talked gently at the snake, running a finger against its head. This was a fairly calm snake, having been born in captivity. Likely when Apep passed on, this one would take his place. “Well, I spent the better part of the morning with Zein. He was juggling knives and Apep wanted to see. I had some tea, not the good tea, but the bitter tea.” She had quite a lovely time with her brother the previous night. “And then I came here to spend time with you and your siblings. It was a good da-”
I’m sorry to intrude.
Kesi’s eyes snapped to see the new Judean girl ducking into the tent. Anger started to boil up inside her as her bubble of happiness shattered because of the curiosity of a little syncoph-
No, Kesi. She thought to herself. Calm. She did not know. Besides most likely she was still under the care of Rekhmire. Kesi was not quite sure what went on with Rekhmire, only that people tended to act… differently to him. She couldn’t quite blame them. Rekhmire was weird. And boring.
“... Miri, right?” Kesi said, eyeing the new girl up. Well, if she was going to be curious, she might as well be helpful. “Here, hold this snake.” She walked over to her, gently passing the snake from her hand to the young girl. “Your curiosity is rewarded. Besides, the snake must get used to being around others if it is ever going to perform.”
On the ground slithered a much larger snake. It moved around Kesi and Miri’s feet. “Now, now, Apep, don’t you be curious too.” She scolded the creature, stepping back from the pair. “What brings you here, Miri? Have you found your talent yet?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Kesi rarely allowed people in the snake tent. It was not as if she hated people. But this was one of the few places Kesi could actually focus. Her mind was not buzzing with thoughts and worries, and the ever-constant shifting of personalities would settle. She didn’t even much like Amenemhat coming into the tent.
The hissing of the snakes brought calm to Kesi. It was where she most felt she could be… well, her. She would talk to them as she worked. Tell them about her day, without worry that they would judge her. No personality was fighting to come out. Kesi was neither childish, nor greedy, nor lustful. She was calm.
“Come here,” she said gently to her newest snake. The snake moved up her arm, coiling around it. It was a fairly docile snake. “You’ll get food soon. Next week,” She cooed. Two weeks have gone by and another one week before she would feed a dead bird to the creature. “I know your siblings are eating right now. Don’t be jealous, they have to wait too.”
Kesi’s eyes bounced around the tent. She had already extracted poisons for the day, and she had already fed the snakes that needed to be fed. Now her attention was on this new guy. “Let’s see, you want to know about my day?” She talked gently at the snake, running a finger against its head. This was a fairly calm snake, having been born in captivity. Likely when Apep passed on, this one would take his place. “Well, I spent the better part of the morning with Zein. He was juggling knives and Apep wanted to see. I had some tea, not the good tea, but the bitter tea.” She had quite a lovely time with her brother the previous night. “And then I came here to spend time with you and your siblings. It was a good da-”
I’m sorry to intrude.
Kesi’s eyes snapped to see the new Judean girl ducking into the tent. Anger started to boil up inside her as her bubble of happiness shattered because of the curiosity of a little syncoph-
No, Kesi. She thought to herself. Calm. She did not know. Besides most likely she was still under the care of Rekhmire. Kesi was not quite sure what went on with Rekhmire, only that people tended to act… differently to him. She couldn’t quite blame them. Rekhmire was weird. And boring.
“... Miri, right?” Kesi said, eyeing the new girl up. Well, if she was going to be curious, she might as well be helpful. “Here, hold this snake.” She walked over to her, gently passing the snake from her hand to the young girl. “Your curiosity is rewarded. Besides, the snake must get used to being around others if it is ever going to perform.”
On the ground slithered a much larger snake. It moved around Kesi and Miri’s feet. “Now, now, Apep, don’t you be curious too.” She scolded the creature, stepping back from the pair. “What brings you here, Miri? Have you found your talent yet?”
Kesi rarely allowed people in the snake tent. It was not as if she hated people. But this was one of the few places Kesi could actually focus. Her mind was not buzzing with thoughts and worries, and the ever-constant shifting of personalities would settle. She didn’t even much like Amenemhat coming into the tent.
The hissing of the snakes brought calm to Kesi. It was where she most felt she could be… well, her. She would talk to them as she worked. Tell them about her day, without worry that they would judge her. No personality was fighting to come out. Kesi was neither childish, nor greedy, nor lustful. She was calm.
“Come here,” she said gently to her newest snake. The snake moved up her arm, coiling around it. It was a fairly docile snake. “You’ll get food soon. Next week,” She cooed. Two weeks have gone by and another one week before she would feed a dead bird to the creature. “I know your siblings are eating right now. Don’t be jealous, they have to wait too.”
Kesi’s eyes bounced around the tent. She had already extracted poisons for the day, and she had already fed the snakes that needed to be fed. Now her attention was on this new guy. “Let’s see, you want to know about my day?” She talked gently at the snake, running a finger against its head. This was a fairly calm snake, having been born in captivity. Likely when Apep passed on, this one would take his place. “Well, I spent the better part of the morning with Zein. He was juggling knives and Apep wanted to see. I had some tea, not the good tea, but the bitter tea.” She had quite a lovely time with her brother the previous night. “And then I came here to spend time with you and your siblings. It was a good da-”
I’m sorry to intrude.
Kesi’s eyes snapped to see the new Judean girl ducking into the tent. Anger started to boil up inside her as her bubble of happiness shattered because of the curiosity of a little syncoph-
No, Kesi. She thought to herself. Calm. She did not know. Besides most likely she was still under the care of Rekhmire. Kesi was not quite sure what went on with Rekhmire, only that people tended to act… differently to him. She couldn’t quite blame them. Rekhmire was weird. And boring.
“... Miri, right?” Kesi said, eyeing the new girl up. Well, if she was going to be curious, she might as well be helpful. “Here, hold this snake.” She walked over to her, gently passing the snake from her hand to the young girl. “Your curiosity is rewarded. Besides, the snake must get used to being around others if it is ever going to perform.”
On the ground slithered a much larger snake. It moved around Kesi and Miri’s feet. “Now, now, Apep, don’t you be curious too.” She scolded the creature, stepping back from the pair. “What brings you here, Miri? Have you found your talent yet?”
Kesi didn’t look pleased to see her. Not at all. It would have been hard to miss the flash of emotion in her eyes, though she covered it quickly with a more welcoming demeanor. Miri thought about ducking her head and apologizing and heading on her way. The circus was vast and multi-faceted—she would surely be able to find something else to occupy her vacant mind. Still, she couldn’t help but let out a tiny breath of tension when Kesi’s expression cleared. The hissing really was soothing, and Miri would much rather stay here than wander aimlessly in search of another distraction.
“Miri, yes,” she murmured, managing not to flinch as the older girl handed her the snake, which immediately began twisting up her left arm. Though she did not much enjoy the way the scales felt against her skin, nor the gentle, pulsing squeezing as the creature twisted and climbed, Miri was not afraid, either. The gods had not sent her all this way just to die two days later, of that she was sure.
Orange and covered in strange brown patterns, Miri imagined the snake had an easy time lying in wait beneath the sand. It was relatively slender now, but for all she knew it could grow much larger. Kesi seemed to be implying that this snake was a new addition to her huge collection, which did add a little bit to her nerves. She knew very little of the ways of the circus, after all. The gods would not want her to die so quickly, but perhaps the Tempest of Set did not mind one way or another. “What will you teach it to do?” she asked, voice still soft. Miri was still quite self-conscious about her poor grasp of the Egyptian language and hoped to pass off any confusion as a volume issue rather than a knowledge deficiency.
Though she did not move her body, keenly aware of the coiling young snake on her arm, Miri glanced down at the one Kesi called Apep. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine as it slithered past her feet, scales brushing against her ankles. This one was much bigger and looked as though it could crush her small frame within seconds if it so wished. It hissed softly, joining the chorus of its peers, but heeded Kesi’s words and retreated slightly.
“My talent… not yet,” she answered hesitantly, peering at the snake charmer. Confidence and power seemed important here, and Miri had yet to gain either. “I am meant to visit the healer in the next day or so, to be examined and given an assignment.” That was another source of anxiety. Would the doctor find her worthy of being in the Tempest of Set, or would he recommend to Amenemhat that she be discarded right away? All she wanted was a home. “I would quite like to be an acrobat, I think.” She had watched them rehearsing yesterday, captivated by the ways their bodies twisted through the air like large, graceful birds. “But I will, of course, perform in any way I am needed,” she added hastily, hazel eyes widening slightly. Kesi had an air of importance about her, and the young Judean felt the need to leave a good impression.
“How… how did you discover your… talent?” she dared to ask after a moment, glancing down again at the little snake, still winding its way up and down her arm. Perhaps if Kesi thought her worth it, she would offer her some advice. Miri could use all the help she could get.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Kesi didn’t look pleased to see her. Not at all. It would have been hard to miss the flash of emotion in her eyes, though she covered it quickly with a more welcoming demeanor. Miri thought about ducking her head and apologizing and heading on her way. The circus was vast and multi-faceted—she would surely be able to find something else to occupy her vacant mind. Still, she couldn’t help but let out a tiny breath of tension when Kesi’s expression cleared. The hissing really was soothing, and Miri would much rather stay here than wander aimlessly in search of another distraction.
“Miri, yes,” she murmured, managing not to flinch as the older girl handed her the snake, which immediately began twisting up her left arm. Though she did not much enjoy the way the scales felt against her skin, nor the gentle, pulsing squeezing as the creature twisted and climbed, Miri was not afraid, either. The gods had not sent her all this way just to die two days later, of that she was sure.
Orange and covered in strange brown patterns, Miri imagined the snake had an easy time lying in wait beneath the sand. It was relatively slender now, but for all she knew it could grow much larger. Kesi seemed to be implying that this snake was a new addition to her huge collection, which did add a little bit to her nerves. She knew very little of the ways of the circus, after all. The gods would not want her to die so quickly, but perhaps the Tempest of Set did not mind one way or another. “What will you teach it to do?” she asked, voice still soft. Miri was still quite self-conscious about her poor grasp of the Egyptian language and hoped to pass off any confusion as a volume issue rather than a knowledge deficiency.
Though she did not move her body, keenly aware of the coiling young snake on her arm, Miri glanced down at the one Kesi called Apep. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine as it slithered past her feet, scales brushing against her ankles. This one was much bigger and looked as though it could crush her small frame within seconds if it so wished. It hissed softly, joining the chorus of its peers, but heeded Kesi’s words and retreated slightly.
“My talent… not yet,” she answered hesitantly, peering at the snake charmer. Confidence and power seemed important here, and Miri had yet to gain either. “I am meant to visit the healer in the next day or so, to be examined and given an assignment.” That was another source of anxiety. Would the doctor find her worthy of being in the Tempest of Set, or would he recommend to Amenemhat that she be discarded right away? All she wanted was a home. “I would quite like to be an acrobat, I think.” She had watched them rehearsing yesterday, captivated by the ways their bodies twisted through the air like large, graceful birds. “But I will, of course, perform in any way I am needed,” she added hastily, hazel eyes widening slightly. Kesi had an air of importance about her, and the young Judean felt the need to leave a good impression.
“How… how did you discover your… talent?” she dared to ask after a moment, glancing down again at the little snake, still winding its way up and down her arm. Perhaps if Kesi thought her worth it, she would offer her some advice. Miri could use all the help she could get.
Kesi didn’t look pleased to see her. Not at all. It would have been hard to miss the flash of emotion in her eyes, though she covered it quickly with a more welcoming demeanor. Miri thought about ducking her head and apologizing and heading on her way. The circus was vast and multi-faceted—she would surely be able to find something else to occupy her vacant mind. Still, she couldn’t help but let out a tiny breath of tension when Kesi’s expression cleared. The hissing really was soothing, and Miri would much rather stay here than wander aimlessly in search of another distraction.
“Miri, yes,” she murmured, managing not to flinch as the older girl handed her the snake, which immediately began twisting up her left arm. Though she did not much enjoy the way the scales felt against her skin, nor the gentle, pulsing squeezing as the creature twisted and climbed, Miri was not afraid, either. The gods had not sent her all this way just to die two days later, of that she was sure.
Orange and covered in strange brown patterns, Miri imagined the snake had an easy time lying in wait beneath the sand. It was relatively slender now, but for all she knew it could grow much larger. Kesi seemed to be implying that this snake was a new addition to her huge collection, which did add a little bit to her nerves. She knew very little of the ways of the circus, after all. The gods would not want her to die so quickly, but perhaps the Tempest of Set did not mind one way or another. “What will you teach it to do?” she asked, voice still soft. Miri was still quite self-conscious about her poor grasp of the Egyptian language and hoped to pass off any confusion as a volume issue rather than a knowledge deficiency.
Though she did not move her body, keenly aware of the coiling young snake on her arm, Miri glanced down at the one Kesi called Apep. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine as it slithered past her feet, scales brushing against her ankles. This one was much bigger and looked as though it could crush her small frame within seconds if it so wished. It hissed softly, joining the chorus of its peers, but heeded Kesi’s words and retreated slightly.
“My talent… not yet,” she answered hesitantly, peering at the snake charmer. Confidence and power seemed important here, and Miri had yet to gain either. “I am meant to visit the healer in the next day or so, to be examined and given an assignment.” That was another source of anxiety. Would the doctor find her worthy of being in the Tempest of Set, or would he recommend to Amenemhat that she be discarded right away? All she wanted was a home. “I would quite like to be an acrobat, I think.” She had watched them rehearsing yesterday, captivated by the ways their bodies twisted through the air like large, graceful birds. “But I will, of course, perform in any way I am needed,” she added hastily, hazel eyes widening slightly. Kesi had an air of importance about her, and the young Judean felt the need to leave a good impression.
“How… how did you discover your… talent?” she dared to ask after a moment, glancing down again at the little snake, still winding its way up and down her arm. Perhaps if Kesi thought her worth it, she would offer her some advice. Miri could use all the help she could get.
This was Delia’s job. Kesi didn’t much like talking to the new people. It’s not that she disliked them. But she wasn’t very good with people. Until they had a use, Kesi didn’t bother with them. It was a wonder she remembered her name. Maybe that was a sign that this girl would one day be something to the circus? Or maybe not. Not everyone is destined for greatness. Sometimes useless bodies find their way over here… well, useless was harsh. Those bodies were very useful for Rekhmire’s experiments.
Kesi nearly rolled her eyes at the girl’s desires to want to be an acrobat. A beautiful talent, sure, but one that many people desire to have. Not everyone is meant for center stage. Kesi has a part of the show, but it certainly not as big as, say, the Clique’s was. And that was fine with Kesi, for what she did she did incredibly well, unmatched by no one. And when she wasn’t with her snake she was keeping a watchful eye on the circus, making sure no one would step out of line.
Lest they want a bite from the very snake that girl was holding.
With Miri holding the new snake, and he looking to be taking to it well, Kesi felt comfortable looking to the various scorpions and spiders that were also in her care. She would have gotten their venom the next day, but now was a good as time as ever. She collected one of the scorpions carefully.
“They serve multiple purposes,” Kesi explained, concentrating on the scorpion at hand. Gently she massaged the abdomen, careful so that it’s stinger did not pierce her skin, instead controlling it so that she could gather the venom that pooled from it. “The first is to perform. I train them to get used to people, to even enjoy being held. That way they won’t strike out at performers or spectators. They dance to my pungi, following the instrument with their eyes. I train them to be calm as they are coiled around me as I move, charming the other snakes.”
But that wasn’t necessarily the most important aspect of her job. She was Mistress of Poisons, and venom was worth more to her than gold. “The second is for their venom. The venom is sold, just as the hides of our animals are. We supply a lot of different merchants. The venom is used in some medicines as well.”
This was boring. She didn’t want to talk about money and what she did. The girl had eyes, she’d notice. Why did she have to ask such boring questions?
But Kesi had to be patient. Even if patient was also boring. Maybe she should accidentally drop this scorpion. It would be funny to watch her scream. Oh her sister was here too! Her sister would be so worried and Kesi would be wide eyed and all apologetic but really laughing because the girl’s fear is super silly. What if she squeaks? Some people squeak when they’re frightened. Like a little cub that broke their leg. Or one of the camels they have to put down when they go lame. Is this girl a camel?
“My brother guided me to my talent.” Kesi snapped out of her thoughts, returning to the reality before them. “The ringmaster, Nem. We used to play a lot as kids. Then when I came here I was lost, but he remembered how we played and he listened to the stories of what I did when he was away and he helped me find my snakes. And then from there, I learned about spiders and scorpions as well. But snakes are my favorites.” Kesi felt Apep as he now made his way to her feet, weaving between her legs. “Nem has never been wrong about someone’s talent. Set speaks through him and helps guide his people through Nem’s words.” Actually, Kesi was convinced her brother was a god. “Once you’re done with the doctor, Nem will find your true calling. He always does.”
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This was Delia’s job. Kesi didn’t much like talking to the new people. It’s not that she disliked them. But she wasn’t very good with people. Until they had a use, Kesi didn’t bother with them. It was a wonder she remembered her name. Maybe that was a sign that this girl would one day be something to the circus? Or maybe not. Not everyone is destined for greatness. Sometimes useless bodies find their way over here… well, useless was harsh. Those bodies were very useful for Rekhmire’s experiments.
Kesi nearly rolled her eyes at the girl’s desires to want to be an acrobat. A beautiful talent, sure, but one that many people desire to have. Not everyone is meant for center stage. Kesi has a part of the show, but it certainly not as big as, say, the Clique’s was. And that was fine with Kesi, for what she did she did incredibly well, unmatched by no one. And when she wasn’t with her snake she was keeping a watchful eye on the circus, making sure no one would step out of line.
Lest they want a bite from the very snake that girl was holding.
With Miri holding the new snake, and he looking to be taking to it well, Kesi felt comfortable looking to the various scorpions and spiders that were also in her care. She would have gotten their venom the next day, but now was a good as time as ever. She collected one of the scorpions carefully.
“They serve multiple purposes,” Kesi explained, concentrating on the scorpion at hand. Gently she massaged the abdomen, careful so that it’s stinger did not pierce her skin, instead controlling it so that she could gather the venom that pooled from it. “The first is to perform. I train them to get used to people, to even enjoy being held. That way they won’t strike out at performers or spectators. They dance to my pungi, following the instrument with their eyes. I train them to be calm as they are coiled around me as I move, charming the other snakes.”
But that wasn’t necessarily the most important aspect of her job. She was Mistress of Poisons, and venom was worth more to her than gold. “The second is for their venom. The venom is sold, just as the hides of our animals are. We supply a lot of different merchants. The venom is used in some medicines as well.”
This was boring. She didn’t want to talk about money and what she did. The girl had eyes, she’d notice. Why did she have to ask such boring questions?
But Kesi had to be patient. Even if patient was also boring. Maybe she should accidentally drop this scorpion. It would be funny to watch her scream. Oh her sister was here too! Her sister would be so worried and Kesi would be wide eyed and all apologetic but really laughing because the girl’s fear is super silly. What if she squeaks? Some people squeak when they’re frightened. Like a little cub that broke their leg. Or one of the camels they have to put down when they go lame. Is this girl a camel?
“My brother guided me to my talent.” Kesi snapped out of her thoughts, returning to the reality before them. “The ringmaster, Nem. We used to play a lot as kids. Then when I came here I was lost, but he remembered how we played and he listened to the stories of what I did when he was away and he helped me find my snakes. And then from there, I learned about spiders and scorpions as well. But snakes are my favorites.” Kesi felt Apep as he now made his way to her feet, weaving between her legs. “Nem has never been wrong about someone’s talent. Set speaks through him and helps guide his people through Nem’s words.” Actually, Kesi was convinced her brother was a god. “Once you’re done with the doctor, Nem will find your true calling. He always does.”
This was Delia’s job. Kesi didn’t much like talking to the new people. It’s not that she disliked them. But she wasn’t very good with people. Until they had a use, Kesi didn’t bother with them. It was a wonder she remembered her name. Maybe that was a sign that this girl would one day be something to the circus? Or maybe not. Not everyone is destined for greatness. Sometimes useless bodies find their way over here… well, useless was harsh. Those bodies were very useful for Rekhmire’s experiments.
Kesi nearly rolled her eyes at the girl’s desires to want to be an acrobat. A beautiful talent, sure, but one that many people desire to have. Not everyone is meant for center stage. Kesi has a part of the show, but it certainly not as big as, say, the Clique’s was. And that was fine with Kesi, for what she did she did incredibly well, unmatched by no one. And when she wasn’t with her snake she was keeping a watchful eye on the circus, making sure no one would step out of line.
Lest they want a bite from the very snake that girl was holding.
With Miri holding the new snake, and he looking to be taking to it well, Kesi felt comfortable looking to the various scorpions and spiders that were also in her care. She would have gotten their venom the next day, but now was a good as time as ever. She collected one of the scorpions carefully.
“They serve multiple purposes,” Kesi explained, concentrating on the scorpion at hand. Gently she massaged the abdomen, careful so that it’s stinger did not pierce her skin, instead controlling it so that she could gather the venom that pooled from it. “The first is to perform. I train them to get used to people, to even enjoy being held. That way they won’t strike out at performers or spectators. They dance to my pungi, following the instrument with their eyes. I train them to be calm as they are coiled around me as I move, charming the other snakes.”
But that wasn’t necessarily the most important aspect of her job. She was Mistress of Poisons, and venom was worth more to her than gold. “The second is for their venom. The venom is sold, just as the hides of our animals are. We supply a lot of different merchants. The venom is used in some medicines as well.”
This was boring. She didn’t want to talk about money and what she did. The girl had eyes, she’d notice. Why did she have to ask such boring questions?
But Kesi had to be patient. Even if patient was also boring. Maybe she should accidentally drop this scorpion. It would be funny to watch her scream. Oh her sister was here too! Her sister would be so worried and Kesi would be wide eyed and all apologetic but really laughing because the girl’s fear is super silly. What if she squeaks? Some people squeak when they’re frightened. Like a little cub that broke their leg. Or one of the camels they have to put down when they go lame. Is this girl a camel?
“My brother guided me to my talent.” Kesi snapped out of her thoughts, returning to the reality before them. “The ringmaster, Nem. We used to play a lot as kids. Then when I came here I was lost, but he remembered how we played and he listened to the stories of what I did when he was away and he helped me find my snakes. And then from there, I learned about spiders and scorpions as well. But snakes are my favorites.” Kesi felt Apep as he now made his way to her feet, weaving between her legs. “Nem has never been wrong about someone’s talent. Set speaks through him and helps guide his people through Nem’s words.” Actually, Kesi was convinced her brother was a god. “Once you’re done with the doctor, Nem will find your true calling. He always does.”
Multiple purposes. Miri hoped that she, like the creatures slithering around her, would find as many ways as possible to serve the gods whilst here with the Tempest of Set. Spreading their will was of the utmost importance and, while she desperately wanted to fly with the acrobats, that was a selfish wish. She would, of course, do whatever the gods ordained. And then had chosen Amenemhat to give her an assignment, so her path began at his feet.
She glanced down at the little snake on her arm once again. It hissed softly and stared at her with orange eyes, blank and cold. Her mother had once told her, with a disapproving glare and a slap to the head, that her own eyes looked cold and distant. “How will you ever make a good wife or mother with unfeeling eyes and skin so cold to the touch?” Miri had agonized over those words for weeks, forcing smiles to her face at every turn in a futile effort to seem more welcoming. You appear cold because your fire is tucked inside, with us, Ra had whispered, and Miri felt the warmth of the gods spread through to her fingertips. Her mother’s words had had little impact after that.
Miri listened attentively to Kesi’s stories, distant gaze focusing in on each of the snakes and scorpions in turn, finally returning to rest on the other girl’s face. She had not known of her connection to the ringmaster. The two seemed nearly opposite in demeanor: one calm and full of power, the other excitable and devious. “I am sure he will help me as he has helped you,” Miri nodded, the hint of a smile returning to her face. Amenemhat truly did seem like a vessel of the gods; it seemed perfectly reasonable that Set might be speaking to him as the gods spoke to her.
She had no illusions that she was anything special. Merely a vessel for their will and words. Amenemhat was more than that, though. That much was clear. She worried, though, that he would test her somehow. Her Egyptian was still poor, most of her knowledge coming from Raziya’s letters and the merchants she had met over the years. She had few skills of any significance. The doctor would clear her as healthy, she was sure, but would Amenemhat be able to find a way for her to serve?
The little snake hissed again, twisting back down her arms to squeeze between her fingers. Keeping watchful eyes on the floor for any of its companions, Miri stepped towards the small table and let the snake slither from her skin, shivering lightly as its tail flicked her arm. It coiled into a tight ball, amber eyes peeking at her from above its coiled body.
Kesi seemed both bored and busy. Miri fumbled for anything interesting to say. She had thousands of questions but none of the right words. She was unsure if Kesi would even want to answer them. She looked at Kesi’s hands, nose wrinkling the tiniest bit at the sight of the scorpion. Far from her favorite creatures, though she held awe and respect in her heart for all of Ptah’s creations. The big snake twisted around Kesi, scales shimmering in the faint light. “Why do you like them the most?” she asked at last, keenly aware of the heavy silence in the tent. “I think the way that they move is fascinating. Endless circles and such strange power.”
She did not know if her words made sense, or if they were even more boring than silence. But Miri liked to understand people, to know the why rather than the what. More important than what Kesi did was why she liked to do it. She had the talent, yes, but more than that, she loved the slithering creatures around them. To understand why would be to begin to understand Kesi.
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Multiple purposes. Miri hoped that she, like the creatures slithering around her, would find as many ways as possible to serve the gods whilst here with the Tempest of Set. Spreading their will was of the utmost importance and, while she desperately wanted to fly with the acrobats, that was a selfish wish. She would, of course, do whatever the gods ordained. And then had chosen Amenemhat to give her an assignment, so her path began at his feet.
She glanced down at the little snake on her arm once again. It hissed softly and stared at her with orange eyes, blank and cold. Her mother had once told her, with a disapproving glare and a slap to the head, that her own eyes looked cold and distant. “How will you ever make a good wife or mother with unfeeling eyes and skin so cold to the touch?” Miri had agonized over those words for weeks, forcing smiles to her face at every turn in a futile effort to seem more welcoming. You appear cold because your fire is tucked inside, with us, Ra had whispered, and Miri felt the warmth of the gods spread through to her fingertips. Her mother’s words had had little impact after that.
Miri listened attentively to Kesi’s stories, distant gaze focusing in on each of the snakes and scorpions in turn, finally returning to rest on the other girl’s face. She had not known of her connection to the ringmaster. The two seemed nearly opposite in demeanor: one calm and full of power, the other excitable and devious. “I am sure he will help me as he has helped you,” Miri nodded, the hint of a smile returning to her face. Amenemhat truly did seem like a vessel of the gods; it seemed perfectly reasonable that Set might be speaking to him as the gods spoke to her.
She had no illusions that she was anything special. Merely a vessel for their will and words. Amenemhat was more than that, though. That much was clear. She worried, though, that he would test her somehow. Her Egyptian was still poor, most of her knowledge coming from Raziya’s letters and the merchants she had met over the years. She had few skills of any significance. The doctor would clear her as healthy, she was sure, but would Amenemhat be able to find a way for her to serve?
The little snake hissed again, twisting back down her arms to squeeze between her fingers. Keeping watchful eyes on the floor for any of its companions, Miri stepped towards the small table and let the snake slither from her skin, shivering lightly as its tail flicked her arm. It coiled into a tight ball, amber eyes peeking at her from above its coiled body.
Kesi seemed both bored and busy. Miri fumbled for anything interesting to say. She had thousands of questions but none of the right words. She was unsure if Kesi would even want to answer them. She looked at Kesi’s hands, nose wrinkling the tiniest bit at the sight of the scorpion. Far from her favorite creatures, though she held awe and respect in her heart for all of Ptah’s creations. The big snake twisted around Kesi, scales shimmering in the faint light. “Why do you like them the most?” she asked at last, keenly aware of the heavy silence in the tent. “I think the way that they move is fascinating. Endless circles and such strange power.”
She did not know if her words made sense, or if they were even more boring than silence. But Miri liked to understand people, to know the why rather than the what. More important than what Kesi did was why she liked to do it. She had the talent, yes, but more than that, she loved the slithering creatures around them. To understand why would be to begin to understand Kesi.
Multiple purposes. Miri hoped that she, like the creatures slithering around her, would find as many ways as possible to serve the gods whilst here with the Tempest of Set. Spreading their will was of the utmost importance and, while she desperately wanted to fly with the acrobats, that was a selfish wish. She would, of course, do whatever the gods ordained. And then had chosen Amenemhat to give her an assignment, so her path began at his feet.
She glanced down at the little snake on her arm once again. It hissed softly and stared at her with orange eyes, blank and cold. Her mother had once told her, with a disapproving glare and a slap to the head, that her own eyes looked cold and distant. “How will you ever make a good wife or mother with unfeeling eyes and skin so cold to the touch?” Miri had agonized over those words for weeks, forcing smiles to her face at every turn in a futile effort to seem more welcoming. You appear cold because your fire is tucked inside, with us, Ra had whispered, and Miri felt the warmth of the gods spread through to her fingertips. Her mother’s words had had little impact after that.
Miri listened attentively to Kesi’s stories, distant gaze focusing in on each of the snakes and scorpions in turn, finally returning to rest on the other girl’s face. She had not known of her connection to the ringmaster. The two seemed nearly opposite in demeanor: one calm and full of power, the other excitable and devious. “I am sure he will help me as he has helped you,” Miri nodded, the hint of a smile returning to her face. Amenemhat truly did seem like a vessel of the gods; it seemed perfectly reasonable that Set might be speaking to him as the gods spoke to her.
She had no illusions that she was anything special. Merely a vessel for their will and words. Amenemhat was more than that, though. That much was clear. She worried, though, that he would test her somehow. Her Egyptian was still poor, most of her knowledge coming from Raziya’s letters and the merchants she had met over the years. She had few skills of any significance. The doctor would clear her as healthy, she was sure, but would Amenemhat be able to find a way for her to serve?
The little snake hissed again, twisting back down her arms to squeeze between her fingers. Keeping watchful eyes on the floor for any of its companions, Miri stepped towards the small table and let the snake slither from her skin, shivering lightly as its tail flicked her arm. It coiled into a tight ball, amber eyes peeking at her from above its coiled body.
Kesi seemed both bored and busy. Miri fumbled for anything interesting to say. She had thousands of questions but none of the right words. She was unsure if Kesi would even want to answer them. She looked at Kesi’s hands, nose wrinkling the tiniest bit at the sight of the scorpion. Far from her favorite creatures, though she held awe and respect in her heart for all of Ptah’s creations. The big snake twisted around Kesi, scales shimmering in the faint light. “Why do you like them the most?” she asked at last, keenly aware of the heavy silence in the tent. “I think the way that they move is fascinating. Endless circles and such strange power.”
She did not know if her words made sense, or if they were even more boring than silence. But Miri liked to understand people, to know the why rather than the what. More important than what Kesi did was why she liked to do it. She had the talent, yes, but more than that, she loved the slithering creatures around them. To understand why would be to begin to understand Kesi.
Kesi was used to the question, but the tone was different than the other times she was asked in the past. People always questioned why the small girl was drawn to snakes instead of working harder to remain with the acrobats, or continuing her studying under the lions. They would question it even further when they heard the name of her favorite snake- Apep. Apep may be an embodiment of chaos, which was well in line with the heart of the circus… but he was also an enemy of Set. It was odd, unnatural even for Kesi to love snakes so much while also naming her favorite the enemy of their patron God.
Kesi’s eyes moved from the scorpion to the slithering snake. They were in many ways her, the snakes. Even if she didn’t understand this consciously, subconsciously the way the snakes shed their skin was akin to Kesi shedding her personality to dawn another. They slithered through the shadows, small and quiet, but in a moment they could strike with deadly precision and an intention to kill. The venom dripping from their fangs like the poisons always at Kesi’s disposal. The way snakes constricted around their caretaker, tail wrapping around an arm or draping around a neck was much like Kesi’s hold on Nem. She needed him as much as her snakes needed Kesi.
But unlike her, the snakes were disposable.
Kesi lost track of how many Apep’s she killed in the past. This was why the name was apt for the snake, a being of chaos but when it strikes it is Set’s hand who strikes it down. A worshiper of Set, and one who truly believes Nem as his voice, it was only right that it was Kesi who so often put an end to their lives.
But how did one put this to words? Especially to someone so… new? This was a question that almost felt… emotional. Like she was trying to make Kesi vulnerable. It was incredibly personal, even if she hadn’t meant it to be. “They’re adaptable.” Kesi finally answered after a moment, gaze returning to the scorpion at hand. “The world is always changing, right? Life is… chaotic. And yet the snakes weather that change like no other. They shed their skin to fit their needs or strike if they’re cornered. But they’re smart. They know where home is, and who would protect them, and who they should protect. Snakes are wonderfully complex creatures, even if most just fear the power of their bite.”
She put away the scorpion before moving onto the next. “But they are dangerous. Which is why I don’t allow people to just walk into my tent, typically.” That was about a tenth of the reason. Truthfully, Kesi would be upset if even Nem walked in the tent. It was her space and no one else’s. It was quiet and calm, where her mind which was always in turmoil could be still. “Just so you know for next time. Between Rekhmire and I though we have a lot of antivenoms if an accident were to happen.”
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Kesi was used to the question, but the tone was different than the other times she was asked in the past. People always questioned why the small girl was drawn to snakes instead of working harder to remain with the acrobats, or continuing her studying under the lions. They would question it even further when they heard the name of her favorite snake- Apep. Apep may be an embodiment of chaos, which was well in line with the heart of the circus… but he was also an enemy of Set. It was odd, unnatural even for Kesi to love snakes so much while also naming her favorite the enemy of their patron God.
Kesi’s eyes moved from the scorpion to the slithering snake. They were in many ways her, the snakes. Even if she didn’t understand this consciously, subconsciously the way the snakes shed their skin was akin to Kesi shedding her personality to dawn another. They slithered through the shadows, small and quiet, but in a moment they could strike with deadly precision and an intention to kill. The venom dripping from their fangs like the poisons always at Kesi’s disposal. The way snakes constricted around their caretaker, tail wrapping around an arm or draping around a neck was much like Kesi’s hold on Nem. She needed him as much as her snakes needed Kesi.
But unlike her, the snakes were disposable.
Kesi lost track of how many Apep’s she killed in the past. This was why the name was apt for the snake, a being of chaos but when it strikes it is Set’s hand who strikes it down. A worshiper of Set, and one who truly believes Nem as his voice, it was only right that it was Kesi who so often put an end to their lives.
But how did one put this to words? Especially to someone so… new? This was a question that almost felt… emotional. Like she was trying to make Kesi vulnerable. It was incredibly personal, even if she hadn’t meant it to be. “They’re adaptable.” Kesi finally answered after a moment, gaze returning to the scorpion at hand. “The world is always changing, right? Life is… chaotic. And yet the snakes weather that change like no other. They shed their skin to fit their needs or strike if they’re cornered. But they’re smart. They know where home is, and who would protect them, and who they should protect. Snakes are wonderfully complex creatures, even if most just fear the power of their bite.”
She put away the scorpion before moving onto the next. “But they are dangerous. Which is why I don’t allow people to just walk into my tent, typically.” That was about a tenth of the reason. Truthfully, Kesi would be upset if even Nem walked in the tent. It was her space and no one else’s. It was quiet and calm, where her mind which was always in turmoil could be still. “Just so you know for next time. Between Rekhmire and I though we have a lot of antivenoms if an accident were to happen.”
Kesi was used to the question, but the tone was different than the other times she was asked in the past. People always questioned why the small girl was drawn to snakes instead of working harder to remain with the acrobats, or continuing her studying under the lions. They would question it even further when they heard the name of her favorite snake- Apep. Apep may be an embodiment of chaos, which was well in line with the heart of the circus… but he was also an enemy of Set. It was odd, unnatural even for Kesi to love snakes so much while also naming her favorite the enemy of their patron God.
Kesi’s eyes moved from the scorpion to the slithering snake. They were in many ways her, the snakes. Even if she didn’t understand this consciously, subconsciously the way the snakes shed their skin was akin to Kesi shedding her personality to dawn another. They slithered through the shadows, small and quiet, but in a moment they could strike with deadly precision and an intention to kill. The venom dripping from their fangs like the poisons always at Kesi’s disposal. The way snakes constricted around their caretaker, tail wrapping around an arm or draping around a neck was much like Kesi’s hold on Nem. She needed him as much as her snakes needed Kesi.
But unlike her, the snakes were disposable.
Kesi lost track of how many Apep’s she killed in the past. This was why the name was apt for the snake, a being of chaos but when it strikes it is Set’s hand who strikes it down. A worshiper of Set, and one who truly believes Nem as his voice, it was only right that it was Kesi who so often put an end to their lives.
But how did one put this to words? Especially to someone so… new? This was a question that almost felt… emotional. Like she was trying to make Kesi vulnerable. It was incredibly personal, even if she hadn’t meant it to be. “They’re adaptable.” Kesi finally answered after a moment, gaze returning to the scorpion at hand. “The world is always changing, right? Life is… chaotic. And yet the snakes weather that change like no other. They shed their skin to fit their needs or strike if they’re cornered. But they’re smart. They know where home is, and who would protect them, and who they should protect. Snakes are wonderfully complex creatures, even if most just fear the power of their bite.”
She put away the scorpion before moving onto the next. “But they are dangerous. Which is why I don’t allow people to just walk into my tent, typically.” That was about a tenth of the reason. Truthfully, Kesi would be upset if even Nem walked in the tent. It was her space and no one else’s. It was quiet and calm, where her mind which was always in turmoil could be still. “Just so you know for next time. Between Rekhmire and I though we have a lot of antivenoms if an accident were to happen.”
Kesi was more or less an enigma. With the gods growing fainter and fainter and the hint of a changing something lurking behind Kesi’s eyes, Miri could not figure out what she was meant to do or say. And so she stood stationary by the table with the new snake on it, gazing at Kesi as calmly as she could manage. Any minute now the woman would tell her to get out, or worse, she would wait until Miri left and then tell Amenemhat that they had no use for a meddling, strange little girl. She would be kicked out of the circus grounds, but this time, she would not even have Raziya’s letters or Arih to keep her company in the deafening silence. She would have to leave.
And yet it was fascinating to listen to Kesi talk about the snakes. Miri did not know why, but some part of her was surprised at the profoundness with which Kesi now spoke. The woman had seemed blunt and disinterested, but Miri could now see the flicker of passion swirling in her dark eyes. Adaptability, chaos, strength, and intelligence. These were the traits that Kesi must value above all others. Suddenly even more self-conscious, Miri allowed her gaze to drop to the floor. She was lacking in all of the above. Soon, though, the power in Kesi’s words drew her eyes back to the woman’s face. These were instructions. Kesi was telling her who to be in order to be valuable to the circus. Thank you, she thought desperately, and though the gods remained silent, Miri thought she could feel the warmth of a smile spreading through her head. She could be adaptable, and strong, and intelligent. She could let the chaos flow through her and channel it in useful ways. And she would have to, in order to claim this colorful, bustling, wonderful place as her home.
Miri opened her mouth and started to thank Kesi, the light of excitement burning in her usually calm and calculating gaze. But the woman’s warning quickly followed. Miri could tell that the words were meant gently, and appreciated the kindness, but she knew it was a warning nonetheless. She should not come back here, not without an invitation. “I am very sorry,” she said after a moment, eyes widening with genuine apology. Behind the apology, though lurked an ocean of anxiety. Kesi seemed kind, but she could send Miri away forever if she so wished. Such was the power that came with chaos and strength and all those other qualities. Miri took a step closer to the tent’s exit and smiled slightly, looking once more at Kesi. “The way you speak about your snakes is beautiful. That is how you are too, yes? Com…plex and strong?” She hoped the Coptic words did not jumble wrongly in her mouth. The last thing Miri needed was an offensive mistranslation. Nothing was more important in this moment than leaving a good impression. “Thank you for letting me see them,” she added, the little smile still resting on her lips, “I hope to see them perform with you soon, but I will sit far away, no? So that they are less dangerous.”
The hissing continued to fill her ears for an hour after she left the tent. That was how Miri of Lea knew her prayers would be answered. This place would be home.
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Kesi was more or less an enigma. With the gods growing fainter and fainter and the hint of a changing something lurking behind Kesi’s eyes, Miri could not figure out what she was meant to do or say. And so she stood stationary by the table with the new snake on it, gazing at Kesi as calmly as she could manage. Any minute now the woman would tell her to get out, or worse, she would wait until Miri left and then tell Amenemhat that they had no use for a meddling, strange little girl. She would be kicked out of the circus grounds, but this time, she would not even have Raziya’s letters or Arih to keep her company in the deafening silence. She would have to leave.
And yet it was fascinating to listen to Kesi talk about the snakes. Miri did not know why, but some part of her was surprised at the profoundness with which Kesi now spoke. The woman had seemed blunt and disinterested, but Miri could now see the flicker of passion swirling in her dark eyes. Adaptability, chaos, strength, and intelligence. These were the traits that Kesi must value above all others. Suddenly even more self-conscious, Miri allowed her gaze to drop to the floor. She was lacking in all of the above. Soon, though, the power in Kesi’s words drew her eyes back to the woman’s face. These were instructions. Kesi was telling her who to be in order to be valuable to the circus. Thank you, she thought desperately, and though the gods remained silent, Miri thought she could feel the warmth of a smile spreading through her head. She could be adaptable, and strong, and intelligent. She could let the chaos flow through her and channel it in useful ways. And she would have to, in order to claim this colorful, bustling, wonderful place as her home.
Miri opened her mouth and started to thank Kesi, the light of excitement burning in her usually calm and calculating gaze. But the woman’s warning quickly followed. Miri could tell that the words were meant gently, and appreciated the kindness, but she knew it was a warning nonetheless. She should not come back here, not without an invitation. “I am very sorry,” she said after a moment, eyes widening with genuine apology. Behind the apology, though lurked an ocean of anxiety. Kesi seemed kind, but she could send Miri away forever if she so wished. Such was the power that came with chaos and strength and all those other qualities. Miri took a step closer to the tent’s exit and smiled slightly, looking once more at Kesi. “The way you speak about your snakes is beautiful. That is how you are too, yes? Com…plex and strong?” She hoped the Coptic words did not jumble wrongly in her mouth. The last thing Miri needed was an offensive mistranslation. Nothing was more important in this moment than leaving a good impression. “Thank you for letting me see them,” she added, the little smile still resting on her lips, “I hope to see them perform with you soon, but I will sit far away, no? So that they are less dangerous.”
The hissing continued to fill her ears for an hour after she left the tent. That was how Miri of Lea knew her prayers would be answered. This place would be home.
Kesi was more or less an enigma. With the gods growing fainter and fainter and the hint of a changing something lurking behind Kesi’s eyes, Miri could not figure out what she was meant to do or say. And so she stood stationary by the table with the new snake on it, gazing at Kesi as calmly as she could manage. Any minute now the woman would tell her to get out, or worse, she would wait until Miri left and then tell Amenemhat that they had no use for a meddling, strange little girl. She would be kicked out of the circus grounds, but this time, she would not even have Raziya’s letters or Arih to keep her company in the deafening silence. She would have to leave.
And yet it was fascinating to listen to Kesi talk about the snakes. Miri did not know why, but some part of her was surprised at the profoundness with which Kesi now spoke. The woman had seemed blunt and disinterested, but Miri could now see the flicker of passion swirling in her dark eyes. Adaptability, chaos, strength, and intelligence. These were the traits that Kesi must value above all others. Suddenly even more self-conscious, Miri allowed her gaze to drop to the floor. She was lacking in all of the above. Soon, though, the power in Kesi’s words drew her eyes back to the woman’s face. These were instructions. Kesi was telling her who to be in order to be valuable to the circus. Thank you, she thought desperately, and though the gods remained silent, Miri thought she could feel the warmth of a smile spreading through her head. She could be adaptable, and strong, and intelligent. She could let the chaos flow through her and channel it in useful ways. And she would have to, in order to claim this colorful, bustling, wonderful place as her home.
Miri opened her mouth and started to thank Kesi, the light of excitement burning in her usually calm and calculating gaze. But the woman’s warning quickly followed. Miri could tell that the words were meant gently, and appreciated the kindness, but she knew it was a warning nonetheless. She should not come back here, not without an invitation. “I am very sorry,” she said after a moment, eyes widening with genuine apology. Behind the apology, though lurked an ocean of anxiety. Kesi seemed kind, but she could send Miri away forever if she so wished. Such was the power that came with chaos and strength and all those other qualities. Miri took a step closer to the tent’s exit and smiled slightly, looking once more at Kesi. “The way you speak about your snakes is beautiful. That is how you are too, yes? Com…plex and strong?” She hoped the Coptic words did not jumble wrongly in her mouth. The last thing Miri needed was an offensive mistranslation. Nothing was more important in this moment than leaving a good impression. “Thank you for letting me see them,” she added, the little smile still resting on her lips, “I hope to see them perform with you soon, but I will sit far away, no? So that they are less dangerous.”
The hissing continued to fill her ears for an hour after she left the tent. That was how Miri of Lea knew her prayers would be answered. This place would be home.