Categories > Original > Humor > La Chanson de la Remuria
A God King's Musings (WC: 455)
0 reviewsAmdusias awakens to thoughts of his lover in the Scarlet Sands.
0Unrated
"Amdusias... Amdusias... my Amdusias... come... forth... my... Amdusias..."
The bottle shattered, and he awoke with a start.
Alone was the God King of Remuria, his tall form dwarfed by the glorious architecture of his grandiose private chambers. Once more, he was overtaken with yearning, but he could not spare the time to visit Amun in the desert.
Amun. His Amun.
It was unhealthy, he knew. But he missed terribly his old days of servitude, when the Lord of the Blazing sun would call upon him to sing and dance and tell epic stories at the dinner feasts. He missed the Great Red Sand, the sky at night, the songs of life surrounding his Oasis.
He missed being a Jinni and not a God.
Now, Amdusias's people know him as "Sebastos Remus of Remuria," much how Amun's people know him as "Scarlet King Deshret". He is the Philharmonic God, the Universal Harmost. And his love is the Red Lord, the Master of the Sands.
But to each other, they are Amdusias and Amun, servant and master, Jinni and God.
Amdusias felt the dull ache of yearning in his heart. How he wished to feel the shifting sands beneath the soles of his sandals once more, to taste the sweet Ajilenakh Nuts on his tongue.
Most of all, however...
He missed the feel of Amun's arms around his waist, his fingers tangling in his then-long hair as their lips met and receded like an agitated ocean wave. He missed sitting on the Sand King's bed, playing a mournful tune on his Mijwiz while awaiting his master's return.
He missed Amun.
Amdusias still did not understand why his lover turned on him that day. Amun had loved hearing him talk about his people, his home. But that day, he had shown up with his armies and used so much fire that the only traces of his Oasis was a sea of glass where the sand had been. Not even ashes had remained of his people.
Or, perhaps, Amdusias did understand. Perhaps, deep down, he knew that Amun was never his. Perhaps he knew that he was only a replacement, a mere thing to fill the whole in his heart that the Seelie Goddess had left behind. A lowly Jinni who warmed his bed and provided occasional entertainment. Perhaps that was all Amdusias was to Amun. Perhaps that was all he ever would be.
And perhaps it was no great surprise when he advocated for the construction of Petrocorii, nor when he frequented the town to gaze upon the Jinn devices and Henna berries for sale―Always looking, but never quite touching these remnants of his homeland.
For the reminder of his homeland would simply cause Amdusias too much grief.
The bottle shattered, and he awoke with a start.
Alone was the God King of Remuria, his tall form dwarfed by the glorious architecture of his grandiose private chambers. Once more, he was overtaken with yearning, but he could not spare the time to visit Amun in the desert.
Amun. His Amun.
It was unhealthy, he knew. But he missed terribly his old days of servitude, when the Lord of the Blazing sun would call upon him to sing and dance and tell epic stories at the dinner feasts. He missed the Great Red Sand, the sky at night, the songs of life surrounding his Oasis.
He missed being a Jinni and not a God.
Now, Amdusias's people know him as "Sebastos Remus of Remuria," much how Amun's people know him as "Scarlet King Deshret". He is the Philharmonic God, the Universal Harmost. And his love is the Red Lord, the Master of the Sands.
But to each other, they are Amdusias and Amun, servant and master, Jinni and God.
Amdusias felt the dull ache of yearning in his heart. How he wished to feel the shifting sands beneath the soles of his sandals once more, to taste the sweet Ajilenakh Nuts on his tongue.
Most of all, however...
He missed the feel of Amun's arms around his waist, his fingers tangling in his then-long hair as their lips met and receded like an agitated ocean wave. He missed sitting on the Sand King's bed, playing a mournful tune on his Mijwiz while awaiting his master's return.
He missed Amun.
Amdusias still did not understand why his lover turned on him that day. Amun had loved hearing him talk about his people, his home. But that day, he had shown up with his armies and used so much fire that the only traces of his Oasis was a sea of glass where the sand had been. Not even ashes had remained of his people.
Or, perhaps, Amdusias did understand. Perhaps, deep down, he knew that Amun was never his. Perhaps he knew that he was only a replacement, a mere thing to fill the whole in his heart that the Seelie Goddess had left behind. A lowly Jinni who warmed his bed and provided occasional entertainment. Perhaps that was all Amdusias was to Amun. Perhaps that was all he ever would be.
And perhaps it was no great surprise when he advocated for the construction of Petrocorii, nor when he frequented the town to gaze upon the Jinn devices and Henna berries for sale―Always looking, but never quite touching these remnants of his homeland.
For the reminder of his homeland would simply cause Amdusias too much grief.
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