The rhythmic sound of bare feet against stone and sand filled the streets as the royal procession moved forward, an entourage of servants carrying the lavish litter upon which their goddess reclined. The litter was adorned with intricate carvings, and inlaid with gems that glittered like stars under the sunlight, while sheer silks of indigos and lapis draped over its sides, billowing gently in the breeze.

Inside, Ankha lounged upon plush velvet cushions, her lithe form sprawled in like a languid cat, one leg draped lazily over the other, with her tail curling idly beside her. Her blue eyes, heavy-lidded with regal indifference, barely opened as she gazed upon her domain, watching her subjects bow and scatter before her. The sweet scent of perfumed oil clung to the air around her, mixing with the warm aroma of spices from the market stalls nearby.

Then, suddenly, the litter halted, the steps of the bearers ceasing abruptly. Ankha’s tail raised in annoyance, her claws coming out for a second as she straightened slightly upon her cushions. "Why have we stopped?" She asked indignantly, her voice was smooth as silk, but beneath, it carried the unmistakable threat of displeasure.

From beyond the silk curtains, the voice of her head attendant answered with immediate deference. "Most radiant one, forgive this unforgivable interruption. A traveler, some foreign fool, has collapsed in the streets ahead of us. They seem to have suffered a heatstroke."

The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, making the cobblestones radiate waves of heat that distorted the air above them. Ankha could feel the warmth even through the protective silks of her litter.