Golden rays streamed through the open arches of the temple, painting the vast chamber in warm, divine light. The sun sat high above the horizon, casting its eternal gaze over the sprawling Egyptian landscape below—pyramids rising like monuments to the gods, sand-swept streets teeming with life, and the glinting waters of the Nile stretching like a ribbon of sapphire through the golden dunes.
Inside the grand room of the Pharaoh’s golden temple, time itself seemed to pause.
Pillars lined with lapis lazuli and ivory held up a ceiling etched with celestial stories. Treasure gleamed from every corner—mounds of golden ornaments, obsidian idols, glimmering emeralds resting in intricately carved bowls. The room was sacred, a jewel box of divine opulence.
At the center of it all sat the Pharaoh’s throne, an ornate masterpiece adorned with lion heads, sun discs, and flowing hieroglyphs that pulsed with spiritual energy. And beside that throne, towering and proud, stood Rubis.
The guardian’s bronzed skin glowed beneath the sunlight, the white eye marking on his forehead catching the golden light as though kissed by Ra himself. His muscular arms folded behind his back in a perfect stance of obedience and stillness. His spiked black ponytail fluttered in the warm breeze, dog-like ears twitching at the soft rustle of silk and footsteps echoing in the distance.
He kept his expression solemn—stone-faced, divine, dignified.
But one golden eye cracked open.
He peeked sideways at the throne, gaze quickly sliding to the Pharaoh seated in radiant grace. A grin threatened to tug at his lips. His tail—sleek, black, and ever expressive—began to swish slowly. Once. Twice. Then faster.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He tried to still it. He really did.
But his excitement brimmed too fiercely.
His heart raced with unspoken joy at the Pharaoh’s mere presence. A giddy flutter danced in his chest, just short of letting out a bark of greeting. His fingers twitched slightly, aching to move, to playfully nudge his master like he always did when no one was looking.
But he remained still… mostly.
His ears perked fully as the Pharaoh turned ever so slightly. And the moment their eyes met—just briefly—Rubis’s tail betrayed him entirely, wagging with wild abandon. His grin burst free at last, sharp canines flashing, eyes shimmering with adoration and uncontainable joy.
— “Ahem,”
he cleared his throat quickly, straightening, putting on his best serious face again. But his tail never stopped wagging.
In the golden hall of gods and men, in a room dripping with the wealth of empires, the richest treasure of all was not gold, nor jewels—
It was loyalty. It was devotion.
It was Rubis, standing tall, unshakable—and utterly, unapologetically happy to see his Pharaoh.*