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A claw clicked on the tile, singular and expectant. It froze the room a little, he thought, weighing their hearts down with the sheer presence their... guest had.
Each of them had been offered a deal - a bargain, more, the rumbling intonations had said - and now each of them needed to make a decision. It seemed like a simple matter, at first. Who among them could resist the wishes of a god? All of them could claim clout in the whole of the kingdom; one did not become a member of the Sacred Court by sheer happenstance. It was the will of the gods in the first place. Wielding the gods-blessed (or cursed, was the unconscious murmuring in the back of everyone's minds) was not a matter one just walked in on.
Nevertheless, it was a mingling of sudden, courageous change in the room. Their vizier and high priest - cut not from different cloth, the rest supposed, but merely different shades.
"I accept," Siamun and Set rang out, faces managing to be both willfully defiant and humble at the same time. The priestess among them breathed out a shaky sigh, a hand drifting to her amulet, And so it is decided, She thought with a minute shake of her head, How could we even think of resisting?
The room ostensibly echoed with an approving half-purr. Logically, the god before them was not really there at all. This plane of reality held no candle to their guest's home, magnificent in his and his kin's realm. And so it was, that their souls shook with the divine only mere paces from their sleeping king.
Isis shifted. An eye peered at her smile, serene and yet touched with the ever-present mystery. Her voice was no less steady than the two before her, the words ringing out almost like a sublime challenge:
"I accept."
Slifer rumbled, head lowering from its proud cant to loose a puff of air at her. The priestess deigned him the same honour - her head was held high, even as the skirts around her rustled with the breath of a god, "You will only change fate within the allowance of I and my brethren, Seer. It is vast, but not so vast as to save the godling so cherished from his fate."
"I will not forget," Isis replied, tone just as firm. Nobody could tell - nor wanted to take their gaze off the gargantuan dragon in their midst - the slow blink from their sister, "Dear god Slifer, all we could ever ask is that you play your part, too. Mortals, however... useful, are nothing compared to the might and rage of any god."
There was a collection of raised eyebrows. Her tone was as calm as ever - a picture of tranquility few could ever hope to match, when she so chose. A pause, a laugh. It was low and deep, "Child, do not doubt your worth. Few could wield the Tauk - and fewer with your grace."
They shared a bow, vizier shaking his head slowly at the scene. The moment was carried quietly, before it was allowed to dissipate, taking the brief conviviality with it.
Mahad reared his head back in surprise at the snout abruptly a few inches from his body, "Priest," Slifer's voice was quiet. He couldn't be sure if the trace of kinship was imagined or not, "... Spellcaster. You have yet to speak. This intrigues me."
Fidgeting was a strong urge, but Mahad resisted it gamely, hand clenching in a rare bout of nerves at his side, "I will do anything for pera'a."
His heart sped as the god eased ever closer, "Do not think we have not been watching. Your acts by his side are admirable," An curious gaze met him, "... Foolish. But admirable. Where is your agreement, wielder of heka? Is this not by the same rote as you have ever done?"
Surprise echoed across everyone's face, but none more stark than the object of Slifer's inquiry. Gods simply... didn't address a mortal like - like a brother-in-arms. The emotion soon mixed with confusion. Then suspicion. Only a few gazes were dotted with foreboding. Mahad inclined his head, taking the risk to follow the beating of his heart, a hand resting on the - for once - silent Ring lying on his chest. The other hand was laid, gently, ever so gently, on the scaled nose of Slifer.
It seemed the right decision, for the god laid his head down on the ground before him. A warm puff of air ruffled his own skirt, "You have come to us, as a sovereign lord, to ask us a question," The priest began, shoulders easing, though his hand on the god remained still, "You ask if my heart beats, if my lungs draw breath. They do so, truly, for pera'a. So shall they stop, upon the will and needs of pera'a. If this is by the same rote as always, then so, too, is my acceptance."
Those golden eyes seemed to twinkle at the eloquent answer. Mahad loosed a sigh, trying not to let himself linger as the other withdrew. No words were given to him in parting - in a way, he was grateful, and kept a studious gaze away from his compatriots. It helped to hide the weakness that had abruptly affected his legs.
It mattered not. Slifer was already moving on to the next in the troupe. The rest of them gazed, sans Priest of the Ring, at the one who stared dourly at the god with his remaining, mortal, eye.
Silence befell them, tense like a musician's harp ready to twang the beginning note of a song. A rumble filled the air, piquant with what felt like grim amusement. Unlike with Mahad, it was not the worn companionship that permeated the air moments earlier. Nor was it a mutually respectful silence ready for silent bereavement, like that with the Priestess. The vizier and high priest, with their complicit authority of the group, commanded not the aged, silent bitterness this elder had. His gaze was not serene - barely respectful, locking onto Slifer's unrepentantly without a trace of fear.
This was the brother of the late pera'a, standing proudly at the might of the being in front of him. His deference was a nominal nod. It cast the veil of hair away from his Item - it gleamed, subtly shifting the air into a diluted atmosphere that was just barely tipped in arrogance.
Slifer met the tacit challenge. The air started to crackle - some swore that they could see the ripple of blue electricity web itself around the god's mouths. None stepped back in fear that the anger would be redirected to them. Was all this to be rendered for naught by the pride of one of their own?
The standoff lasted not more than a moment, interrupted by Aknadin's cackle. It was delighted, as if challenging a god was invigorating instead of terrifying, "I accept!"
Slowly, jaw clicking shut in minute increments, the threat of annihilation in the reception hall faded. It was replaced with a rumbled growl.
"You, brother of your own, elder to the reincarnated Horus, namesake of Amun..." The titles did not lessen the grin on the priest, "Have responsibilities greater than your pride. If you should fail in your assigned task..."
"But I will not, will I?" Came the silver-tongued, cheeky, reply. The grin did not leave, but tempered itself into something sneakier, "Have I not already accepted your proposal?"
With something that would have been an indignant huff in a lesser being, the smirking man was left alone in favour of the one next to him. Compared to the maniacal grin of the previous priest, this one was downright stoic. If a living being could have achieved the perfect, meditative, motionlessness of a shabti, Shada was the epitome of such an effort. Still, life sparkled in the demure gaze of the priest; he bowed in acknowledgement of his turn, a precise angle from the waist, "My Lord."
Respect for respect - the god could follow this priest's adherence to protocol. Though he had forbidden them earlier from kow-towing - the commotion would have surely brought any guards in the vicinity over (unlikely, given the safeguards ensured before Slifer had even arranged a visit, but one must never assume things) - the deep bow was toeing the line of what was permissible. In a rough sound that could have been a chortle, the god rose, peering down the length of his snout at the priest, "Shada. Your sense of humor is pleasing. What say you?"
Though he had not risen from his bow - indeed, it looked effortless for the man to hold the humble position - his voice was no less clear, "I shall do everything in my power to aid the pera'a in achieving his goals."
A short, regal nod from the god, "Acceptable. See to it that your mind is neither wasted nor arrogant. Your boundaries are clear."
Waiting only long enough to witness a recipient nod, Slifer angled his head at the last priest. One paw click with a smooth series of taps against the ground. Karim stood last, scrutinized by his peers in anticipation. His answer would determine that their union was not in vain. This compact - secret even from the subject of this clandestine meeting, the king to whom no secret ought to be withheld - could be broken before it was even sealed.
Priest Karim seemed aware of this. His head rose smoothly from his bow, gaze managing to be deferential as he stared at Slifer with the same serenity as his sister priestess, "The pera'a granted me the honour of serving him, and I will not besmirch that kindness. He is a good pera'a, and it would be a disservice not to accept."
The room settled. Slifer leaned back on his haunches; the crackle of the air was different, now, anticipation and uncertainty warring on the advisors' faces. The pact done, and all rested on the verdict of the god before them.
"Your duties have been settled, then," The intonation was solemn. This was no simple contract agreed upon, but likewise there was no papyrus to stamp their signature upon. It felt oddly like making a deal with a demon, with its formalities and intricacies. Perhaps they were no different from their enemies. A quiet sigh from Mahad broke the silence - the first break of his silence since his agreement felt ominous to the rest, "Our battle will commence shortly. Take this time to rest; dawn brings the coronation of the pera'a."
The lilting tone of the statement brought a surprised grin to some of the priests' lips, but by the time any of them bothered to exchange glances - checking to if the bout of humor truly came from the god - Slifer had disappeared.