"My Pharaoh, are you alright?"
"I've felt better, Seto."
Rania edged closer, trying to see around the pillar behind which she hid. Instinct told her that it would be curtains if she was found out, especially here, in the royal throne room. The giant Eyes of Horus, painted on either side of the seat in question, did little to help matters; they seemed to stare right through the stone. Taking a breath, somewhat comforted by the fact that she was descended from a nameless noble of the palace, she held back and decided to keep listening.
"You should retire, my king. That was the last audience scheduled for tonight, after all."
"I think I will." Rania shrank back as footfalls moved toward her hiding place, then passed by. "It has been a long day for all of us." She waited to hear Atem add, "Make sure that you close the passage when you're gone."
Hearing Priest Seto snort in amusement at his supposed secret, she heard two pairs of footsteps moving in opposite directions. Knowing which belonged to whom, she waited until the entire hall was clear. Then she crept between the pillars, darting from shadow to moonlit shadow as she made her way through the echoing chamber.
The usual guards were surprisingly attentive tonight, doubled up as they were in order to ensure the safety of their king. Thanking the gods for her raven hair and tan skin, Rania drew her cloak about her as she strode swiftly and silently along the wall. The only thing that presented any kind of hindrance was the Pharaoh himself, for he had disappeared.
Staying in the shade of the palace, she listened to the desert night for any telltale signs: the protest of a guard, the cries of amazement from villagers, such were the sounds that often accompanied royalty, even at this late hour.
However, there was none.
Rania gazed around, wondering how a person weighed down with all that jewelry could have vanished without the slightest sound. Eventually, she made the logical decision to track him down by the footprints in the sand, glad of the unique design that so conveniently graced the bottom of many a royal sandle.
After casting about for a while, trying to go undetected by the guards, she found the pattern she was looking for: many curved lines running horizontally from the top to the bottom, almost wave like. Gazing ahead as to where they lead, she was only a little surprised to find that they ran toward the sanctuary of Isis, the High Priestess of the Pharaoh's council.
Wondering how he'd managed to refuse an escort, Rania started toward the pyramid-shaped structure, grateful for the cover of darkness that was said to have also shielded many a thief in King Aknemkanan's rule. Figuring she'd be thought of as likewise if she were caught, she hurried onwards across the dunes, yet she stopped short both in awe and a little fear when she crested the next small hill.
Atem was striding toward the entrance, moving purposefully, the hem of his dark-purple cape just dusting the sand. Gaining access into the sanctuary, he placed a hand on the side of the doors, and looked alertly about, his violet eyes nearly piercing the night with condemnation for any would-be wrongdoers.
Rania simply wrapped her cloak around herself all the tighter, praying in between quickened breaths that the distance between them was enough, staying stone still.
With nary a further glance behind him, the Pharaoh passed between the doors, which started to rumble into place, nearly shutting Rania out. Quickly, she speed-walked to them, glancing behind herself just in case, and as the great stone returned to its former position, Rania found herself in the abode of the High Priestess.
"I suspected you would come, my king."
Rania stayed by the entrance in case she needed to make a hasty retreat; besides, the echoing voices carried well enough, even falling on ears that were not meant for this meeting. Between the pillars, she could easily see the flickering flames of the fountain, the only light in that place, but so bright was its glow that there was hardly any need for the usual torches.
Peering around the pillar once more, she saw Atem approach the fire where the Priestess was seated, her hands curled in a cupping motion around her Millennium Necklace.
"And so I have, Isis," he answered, stopping on the opposite side of the stone that encircled the fountain. "Have you anything to report on the state of things?"
Isis gave a small smile, then closed her eyes in deep concentration. "The future is not always set in stone, my Pharaoh. However, my necklace foresees . . ." her brows drew closer together in a troubled expression, "The same entity seems to be stirring on the outside of our realm . . . a dark and powerful force . . . Although, it wears the same aura as the Enemy possessed . . ." She gave a small sigh, and the glow from her Item diminished. "It is beyond my power to tell anything more."
"That's alright, Isis," Atem said. "You've seen a little more, and it is valuable information." He nodded his head in grateful acknowledgement of her services, the gold adorning both their headpieces shining in the firelight. "However, please, try not to strain yourself."
Giving a tilt to her own head as she opened her eyes, the flicker of a frown then darted across Isis' features.
Rania caught her breath as it threatened to hiss out sharply from between her teeth, and she ducked behind the pillar; she had leaned outward, increasingly curious with each passing second. Relying on her ears to relay the next bit of information, she kept her eyes open, staring at the dank stone opposite her as she listened hard.
"Is that all?"
Breathing a sigh of relief that the Pharaoh hadn't noticed Isis' disturbed notion, Rania waited anxiously to hear what the response would be.
"Yes, my king. However, I must implore you: please bring an escort for these things."
Atem's footsteps started toward the doors, then they paused as Isis continued, "The darkness lives within our walls as well."
Hearing a rustle of silk as he turned back around, Rania edged around the pillar in such a way so that she wouldn't be seen by Atem. He walked out into the night, the doors opening obediently before him.
Yet as she glanced toward the fire, whose gaze should she meet but that of the High Priestess!
Rania sucked air in sharply, waiting with baited breath as to what fate would befall her for eavesdropping on this most secret meeting.
Yet that air hissed out in surprise as Isis merely smiled and commented, "Shouldn't you be in bed, Rania?"
Her shock not lost on Isis, Rania nodded mutely and wordlessly slipped out the doors, which opened silently into the shadows, as she headed toward the village.
She had seen all she could afford to see for one night.
...
"And that's all she said?"
"Yes, but it hardly seems to make sense, at least to me."
"Rania, when you are as old as I am, many things that don't make sense before do . . . in time."
Charissa's daughter smiled at the thought, sitting on a blanket nearest her chair, and though she knew it to be true, she couldn't help but doubt her mother's statement, given her appearance. Soft, warm brown eyes gazed out from a careworn face, and only a few streaks of gray shot through her long black hair, like shooting stars on a moonless night. The long, plain linen dress she wore only accentuated her beauty in Rania's eyes, for she had looked up to Charissa always, especially after she had become a widow.
By order of King Aknemkanan, all of the guards, warriors, and men of military age and fitness had been rounded up seven years ago. This was done in order to battle the followers and creatures of the Thief King, Bakura. Of the thousand men that had ventured forth to rid the land of that evil, only a few score had returned; none went unscathed, least of all Rania's father, Aharon. He was one of the commanders that had been charged with overseeing the whole operation. According to the reports of the few survivors, the commanders were the ones to suffer the most. The more power a body had been given, the more pain and humiliation they were subjected to at the hands of the Thief King. Only the most horrifying details were spared from the crowd that had come flocking to the gates, for the sake of both the survivors and the many women who had become widows or lost sons on that fateful night.
"I understand that with wisdom comes age," Rania remarked, "and yet, it just felt like an instinct. Something wasn't right about the Pharaoh." She gazed anxiously out of the stone-hewn window in the side of the building where they lived together, toward the dim outline of the palace walls that loomed above the rest of the land.
Charissa placed a hand on Rania's cheek reassuringly. "My daughter, it is natural to possess a healthy fear of a monarch, yet I know that what you say is true. I feel that the High Priestess is wishing you would keep watch over Atem."
"But Mother, what purpose would there be in that? He is the King of Egypt, the Chosen One who commands the Egyptian Gods! I am only-"
"The daughter of one of his strongest commanders? So you are," Charissa nodded, watching the fear slowly start to fade from Rania's eyes at this reassurance.
"He has an entire retinue of guards at his beck and call! How would I be aiding them in any way?"
"Why, by being there when they are not, just like you were tonight."
"He holds the wisdom of generations that came before, taught by the best scholars in the kingdom."
"And you have a wiser head on your shoulders than some of them have, and a bravery as strong as your father's, Rania."
"But why?" she finally asked, resting her elbow on the arm of Charissa's rocker. "How do you know I speak the truth?"
"I believe the darkness that Isis predicted is now among us, for this would not be the first time it has corrupted the hearts of men." Saying this, Charissa cleared her throat in answer. Rania sat forward, recognizing the sound of a story soon to be told.
"Five thousand years ago, there was an island floating in the ocean, surrounded by all sides. This was the city of Atlantis, and within its walls walked humans and the spirits of the beasts that today are sealed away in tablets. Yes, the monsters and men lived at peace with one another, and their way of life was simple. Then, one day, an unknown darkness descended over Atlantis, and when it fell on the people, so did shards of a mystical stone known as the Orichalcos. It granted knowledge and power to the City, and the civilization grew by leaps and bounds. However, eventually, the people became corrupt and power-hungry. As their hearts shriveled, so did their appearances; they became more beast-like than any of the monster spirits they lived beside."
Rania's eyes widened; this was the first time she had heard this particular story.
"Only their brave and noble leader named Ironheart refused to give in to the spell, standing in the way of his son Dartz, who believed that the city had to be destroyed because of the violence that the Orichalcos had caused. Ironheart begged Dartz to destroy the stones and let the people return to the old ways, but his son would not hear of it. He had succeeded in reviving a monstrous dragon, the great Leviathan, to aid him, as the Orichalcos had instructed. But Ironheart, assisted by his granddaughter and a group of refugees, called upon the Legendary Knights: Critius, Timaeus, and Hermos to form an army. They set forth to do battle with Dartz, the Orichalcos, and the Great Leviathan. However, neither side was the victor, for their power was too evenly matched."
"But what has any of this to do with the Pharaoh?" Rania asked. She was fascinated by the story thus far, but she failed to see how it had any relevance to her plight.
Charissa smiled gently. "Patience, my daughter. The City of Atlantis sank beneath the waves, the Great Leviathan was confined to the depths of the earth, and the Orichalcos was scattered throughout the world, until a day in the distant future. The Pharaoh's spirit lived on, and in a different form, he defeated the soul-fed Leviathan with the reincarnations of Ironheart, his granddaughter, and the three Legendary Knights. Once Atlantis sank beneath the seas again, the earth was safe. But Atem had been affected by the Orichalcos while dueling one of Dartz' minions."
"And you believe that the darkness is still within him?" Rania questioned, understanding now the emotions that she'd felt in his presence.
Her mother looked at her grimly. "I do. The fear that was possessing you was not the fact that he's the king, because you still had the courage to follow and hear the High Priestess' predictions. It was the work of that cursed stone. Though he does not show it, the Seal of the Orichalcos is still branded into the heart of our King."