Post by EFadmin on Jun 12, 2006 10:32:53 GMT -5
Pharoah's old but proud frame rested atop his stone-set throne, the once youthful face now scarred with war and wrinkled with time. He wore a deep ebon wig over his silvering thin hair, his shoulders sagged in the high-backed throne. His servants moved around him swiftly attempting to tend to his needs, but he cared not. His dull hazel optics lowered to his fragile, wrinkled hand and a rattled sigh escaped his slightly parted lips. He had once been a warrior, a knight if you must. Now he was nothing more than an ageing royal with no heir but a daughter named Serq. He had outlived his wife, Omorose, and he now had no desire to live.
Though he knew Serq would make a good ruler, his family would no longer rule Egypt as they had for centuries. He had failed them. A new Pharoah would arrive and take the throne he sat upon and his daughter would be sat on his left - below Pharoah. He dismissed the servants with a flick of his withered hand as he wished to be alone, consumed in his own thoughts. His father, Pharoah Sethos had told him on his deathbed 'to have a son'. He had failed him. He had failed his family. His blood.
He stood slowly and crossed the room, a prominant arch in his backbone. He took the sword from the ornate mantel, silently impaling himself upon him while praying to the gods. He was not worthy to live the rest of his life, he had failed everyone. He had failed Egypt. What was the new ruler to be like? Cruel. Decietful. Within seconds his thoughts ended and a cry of pain escaped him, the servants came bustling in immediately. But he couldn't care. His life was over.
Egyptian Fate
Though he knew Serq would make a good ruler, his family would no longer rule Egypt as they had for centuries. He had failed them. A new Pharoah would arrive and take the throne he sat upon and his daughter would be sat on his left - below Pharoah. He dismissed the servants with a flick of his withered hand as he wished to be alone, consumed in his own thoughts. His father, Pharoah Sethos had told him on his deathbed 'to have a son'. He had failed him. He had failed his family. His blood.
He stood slowly and crossed the room, a prominant arch in his backbone. He took the sword from the ornate mantel, silently impaling himself upon him while praying to the gods. He was not worthy to live the rest of his life, he had failed everyone. He had failed Egypt. What was the new ruler to be like? Cruel. Decietful. Within seconds his thoughts ended and a cry of pain escaped him, the servants came bustling in immediately. But he couldn't care. His life was over.
Egyptian Fate
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