Pharaoh Pt 2

I don't post parts as often on DA as I do on TH. I tend to post at least one part every Saturday on my Toyhouse (kat_rina_art)
Anywayss, here's part 2!




Pharaoh stood in front of the mirror, holding the snout cover gently in his talons. Half of his face was normal. Average, even. A sandy-golden-scaled Sandwing, with black horns and a single round black marking beneath his obsidian eyes. His feathery sail rose mid-snout and flared out at the top of his head, running further down his spine from there. He looked normal.

Except for the large chunk of flesh missing from the right of his mouth.

The right side of his face was decorated with a gnarly scar - a large, bold gash of missing scales and flesh over his jaws that revealed the teeth inside his mouth. Three years ago, Pharaoh had been walking the banks of a river in a town to the East. He had told his guards they could go and take a break, find something in the market. He said he would be resting by the water. So, nobody would have seen the Rainwing materializing out of thin air.

Pharaoh didn't hear any words, and he's not sure the Rainwing even said any at first. All he felt was the talons raking his sides and the wings battering his head.

Dizzied from the quickly flashing colors and sudden assault, Pharaoh barely managed to throw the Rainwing from him. His wounds weren't deep, but the scratches still stung as they bled lightly.

"Who are you!?" Pharaoh shouted, jumping back and flaring his wings defensively. The Rainwing rolled to his feet, reeling. His scales flashed hundreds of vibrant colors before settling on a still, quiet blue.

"As if you don't already know!" The Rainwing snarled. "Reflex is gone because of you!"

Pharaoh furrowed his brow, puzzled. He didn't know any "Reflex," nor had he heard of one and especially not "gotten rid of" one. He opened his mouth to speak, to try and de-escalate the situation, but the Rainwing lunged at him before he could say anything. Pharaoh reared back and whipped his head to the side, but not before a single streak of black, shimmering liquid sprayed from the fangs of the Rainwing. As if in slow motion, Pharaoh felt the hot liquid land on his face and bind to his scales like glue. His blood raced, and as the Rainwing grabbed him to try and tackle him, Pharaoh brought his talons up and slammed the Rainwing to the ground.

There, he held the Rainwing as he heaved for breath. The Rainwing snarled and snapped at him, hissing and flaring his frill. Pharaoh's body felt like it was going numb, save for the distant sting of the scales on his face and the acrid scent of them melting. The Rainwing tried again to heave himself out of Pharaoh's grip, and with one powerful jab Pharaoh stabbed him through the throat with his tail. The Rainwing sputtered for a moment before Pharaoh dropped him to the ground and turned away, but after a second of silence, the world returned to him. And with it, a screaming, boiling pain. A terrible wailing agony like none he had ever experienced before. He hissed and roared, writhing on the ground, before diving into the river and battering his own face with his wings. Blood and resin from his melting scales swirled into the water around him, and he let out a whining screech. He was afraid. Is this how he dies?

As his head occasionally poked out of the water, Pharaoh saw his guards arrive to the scene, as well as some curious onlookers. The hissing, steamy melting of his face began to dim, and Pharaoh clambered onto the bank. His scratches and face bled, but he was no longer melting, despite the horrid pain he could still feel. One step toward his trusted guards and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

His mother had wanted to execute the guards for allowing such a thing to happen. That a dragon could just appear and come so close to killing the Prince in broad daylight was appalling, and she said it made the Royals appear weak. She insisted that he receive extra training and that the town be investigated for conspiracy. It turns out that the Rainwing's name was Anteater, and he was just some dragon from the Rain Kingdom. Reflex was the name of his sister, but there was no record of any execution or prisoner named Reflex.

Regardless, the grisly appearance of the scar earned Pharaoh wary looks from everyone who didn't know him. Unfortunately sometimes it even made it more difficult to eat, too.

Tentatively, Pharaoh placed the iron snout covering over his face and secured it around his nose horn. He often wore the covering in public to help him appear more personable. He didn't want the citizens to fear him, after all.

Though Pharaoh wasn't often allowed to leave Palace grounds thanks to the near life-threatening mishap a few years ago, today he was going to visit his uncle, Bone.

Bone was Coyote's only sibling, a brother born seven years before her, who had left to study in Agate, a city in the Southwest of Pyrrhia where hundreds of years ago there had been only empty ruins. He was gone for twenty years and returned when Coyote was 13, but didn'd find much of a connection with, so scarcely spoke with, his sister. Pharaoh had only discovered Bone's existence through speaking with Papyrus, and when Pharaoh tracked him down to speak to him he found the dragon much more agreeable than his mother.

To keep a low profile in the city wasn't really an easy task for Pharaoh. Princes weren't typically very popular, but the Arena competitions gained him some notoriety, and killing a dragon in the middle of a town at mid-day wasn't necessarily any way to detract from the attention. Nor did the six guards accompanying him through the city help, either. Like a dust cloud ever stirring in his wake, the guards were everywhere he went, and at this point he'd just accepted it.

Still, wary looks from the citizens made Pharaoh uncomfortable as he made his way to his uncle's shop. He stepped through the entrance, the hanging beads clicking together to announce his arrival as he passed underneath them. Light poured into the shop from several small windows in the sandstone building, illuminating tens of painstakingly carved stone and wooden figures. At the front desk of the shop, Pharaoh tapped a small bell on the counter, and a voice called from the next room.

"Just a moment!" Bone's voice called, and Pharaoh heard shuffling on the other side of the wall, before his uncle finally came into view.

Bone himself was a dusty-gray Sandwing, with pale striations patterning his scales and a single long black stripe along his throat and stomach. His clothing wasn't nearly as decadent as Coyote's, wearing only a red and gold scarf with a black drape on his back and tail. Bearing far less scars than many Sandwings Pharaoh knew, Bone looked upon him with compassionate eyes and a kinder demeanor, both signs that Bone had experienced a life apart from the life the Royal Sandwings tend to.

"Ah, if it isn't the Prince! My nephew, come, come," Bone greeted Pharaoh, ushering him to the next room over where there were blankets and pillows lining the floor and shelves filled with carved figures covering the walls. As Pharaoh took a seat, Bone looked at him solemnly.

"I heard about your father. My condolences. I hardly knew him, but he seemed an easier creature than Coyote," Bone said, dipping his head to Pharaoh and stepping into the next room. Pharaoh nodded.

"I know who did it." Pharaoh stated. "We all seem to know who did it, but there's really nothing we can do. There isn't concrete evidence and even if there was, we still couldn't do much of anything." His wings drooped, and he shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly he could feel the weight of all of the scales on his body, each one a stone pulling him downward.

"I know." Bone said, coming back through the doorway with two cups of tea. Pharaoh dipped his head in thanks and took one of the cups. "I hardly knew my parents- Queen Ibex was dead when I returned. King Adobe died only three years after my return, though he was a more caring father to me than I would've expected, having seen how Coyote turned out."

"I didn't get to know Coyote either. I could sense something off in her, and I didn't want to see the full of it, so that's why I'm not part of all that anymore. However," Bone said, sipping from his tea. "If I had a sane sister, I certainly would've preferred she be Queen."

Pharaoh tried to sip from his cup, and some of the tea leaked pathetically through the exposed teeth on his right side. If Mirage became Queen, it's not like Xerocole could challenge her. It would have to be either her or Pharaoh's dragonet to do it, but there's no way Mirage would let that happen. Pharaoh wasn't a target while Mirage still vied for the throne, but the moment she got it would put a target on his back, and keep one on Xerocole's. Mirage could not become Queen.

"How long do you think we have until she tries it?" Pharaoh asked Bone, awkwardly sipping again from his cup. "A challenge, I mean."

"You can't know," Bone shook his head. "It could be tomorrow or it could take ten years. The only thing you can do is try to be prepared..." He set his cup down and looked at Pharaoh seriously. "Unless you are able to strike first."