Pharaoh of Ogana

The sand dunes kicked up a fine storm as Hashiba dipped the smooth wooden bowl handed down countless generations to finally rest in her worn hands. She felt her ancestors watch as she picked the water up in the bowl, as she then tipped the bowl sideways to let the water filter through a pair of animal skins into a sealable clean larger animal pelt. She coughed softly as the fine dust found its way into her lungs despite her wearing a thin scarf, and repeated her process of dipping the bowl in and then filtering it into her animal skins. Day after day, for countless years, she had done such a thing. Her skin was browned by the afternoon sun blazing upon her, but she and the rest of family viewed it as the sun gods bestowing their heavenly light upon the earth, and that taking the scorching heat was but a small way of showing their thanks for the many fortunate things in their lives. She carefully rewrapped her shawl tighter around her face, the shimmering threads of gold woven into rich brown fabric standing out strikingly against her plain garbs of grays and pale beige. She was one of many lowly servants, sent out to collect water from the river and bring it back in offerings to the sun gods' appointed King. Thares was his true name, but every King appointed by the sun gods was immediately renamed as Scarab, to honour the original founding King, Scarab Abidi. He founded the young paradise of Onaga tucked among the many rolling dunes of Egypt.

By midday, Hashiba had collected enough water. She turned and walked back towards her village, then quickly spun around to squint at the horizon. The hazy waves of heat shimmering along the sands made her vision blurry, but she could make out eight figures heading into town, two people to a camel each. Just by the way the camels cantered, she could tell that these people had come a long way, and likely wished to see their King. She hurried into the village, dashing past the many uniform rows of pure-white sanded down blocklike homes with colourful orange overhangs, and ducked between two buildings into the hidden servants passage. She dashed past several others of her status heading out for water, calling to one of them to let them know she had left her own water at the edge of the village, in her dash to see the newcomers. Usually, she kept her head low and did as told, which included bringing back her water, but today she could not wait. For today she had felt something deep in her gut that these eight figures were to be of enormous significance, and she refused to miss their grand entrance, for a grand entrance she suspected they would make.

"Slow down, Hashiba! Where is your water?" Moriah caught Hashiba by the arm, her many golden bracelets jingling down her wrist as he gripped Hashiba with uncharacteristically strong fingers.

"I-I left it back there, please, I have to do something!" Hashiba burst out, and untwined her arm from Moriah's, leaving her friend in the dust. A tiny twinge of regret remained in the back of her consciousness, but she brushed it aside. She's just looking out for you, Hashiba! But what if she's disappointed that you're not doing your work? Be quiet!

Hashiba finally emerged into a grander hallway. Her attire did not match that of the other servants milling about; these were of higher status, garbed in the way that foreigners could remember. No one was meant to see the servants in boring colours such as herself. She was meant to be scurrying unseen down servant passages, not out in the open like this. No matter. She hurried up a sloped path, emerging back out into the sun and hurrying up tiny steps carved out from packed sand. She ran to the side and into the shade of an overhanging balcony, disguising herself beside a short plant. Then she turned to survey the area.

Two sphinxes the size of two stacked humans faithfully guarded the entrance to the throne plaza, and ten bright orange banners woven from fine cloth hung on either sides from the second-floor balconies. The sun shone in from the top, landing on most of the plaza except for the overhanging balconies, of which Hashiba was under. A long carved path led from the steps to a large smoothly carved wooden chair, upon which King Scarab sat. Adorned with precious gems, it was one of utmost value to the town, and was cared for day and night.