Wolf: Well, some of us like Conan humor and some of us like Leno humor. It's all relative. Kudos for reviewing! If there's one thing I like about you, it's your consistency. Especially considering the fact that you're a raving lunatic. Guess that's why you're going to prom whereas I didn't! By the way, I'm still alive.
Penny: Worry not, little tenshi, I won't threaten you with bodily harm to read this story. But I'll say nothing for Dani... unlike you, I didn't get a review from her! Oh, well. She's nice to me, so it's all good. Kudos to both of you!
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Theoris's sleep was peaceful that night, for the most part. His fever continued to decrease at a semi-steady rate; the Millennium Eye and Necklace had been smaller, easier to cast protection over. They were also apparently devoid of any discernible spirits within, which Theoris found to be of comfort.
Haremakhet and Surero weren't exactly in the best of moods over the entire ordeal.
"The Millennium items are abominations," Haremakhet mumbled. "If only the Shadow games hadn't been conceived in the first place... then the items would never have been forged, and this kind of foolishness would not take place!"
"Hold your tongue, Haremakhet," Surero barked. "It happened. There is nothing that can be done to prevent what occurred in the past. As I recall, at one time, you were an ardent proponent of the Shadow games."
"And every day, I regret that," Haremakhet quietly replied.
"What changed your mind?"
"I visited the Temple of Life one day, after the Pharaoh - when He was the Crown Prince - had finished playing a Shadow game. And there, I found a dozen mages, all unconscious, all in extraordinary pain. The healers rushed to help them all, and they did so with alarming calm and efficiency... as if they knew precisely how to treat the injuries."
Surero frowned. "Many illnesses and injuries are known, Haremakhet. That should not surprise you."
"That in itself did not surprise me. What did was that I recognized two of the mages as having been given special dispensation to enter the bowels of the palace, where only those who play Shadow games dare tread. These were not simply mages, they were summoners." Haremakhet stared at Surero meaningfully. "They were part of the Shadow game. They summoned the monsters. And they were the losing party. Not only that, but the healers knew precisely how to treat their injuries."
"So?"
"So... the injuries have happened before. Our own clan was harmed by the power of the Shadow games. And the healers tended them, mended them, and sent them back to do it all over again." Haremakhet glowered at Surero. "I submit that this is why members of the royal family fell ill so often... possibly even why some mages chose to revolt against the Pharaoh."
"Ridiculous," Surero huffed. "They all survived, did they not? And they served their purpose: to assist and please their masters."
Haremakhet gaped. "You knew!"
"Of course I knew!" snapped Surero. "Many of us knew. But what could we do about it?"
"Almost anything! How could it have been allowed, all that pain and suffering? For a game!"
"It was not just a game. It was a war. It always was." Surero turned his gaze upon the sleeping Theoris. "A war whose roots extend back to the creation of our world. A war with two sides: good and evil. And the war still happens today. If Theoris is right, agents of evil still exist to take power unimaginable and use it to their gain."
He looked back to his companion. "The war will never end, Haremakhet. It will always continue, each new generation of soldiers more deadly, more innovative, and more destructive than the last. The Pharaoh entertained evil within these walls and then crushed it under the fist of the Shadow games. And in the end, the allies of good won yet another battle in this eternal struggle."
"At the cost of a great leader!"
"Sacrifices must be made. The Pharaoh knew this when He battled His own mages in His own home. He stopped one evil. Now another arises, and Theoris claims to be able to stop it. Do you call this foolishness? Or would you prefer to see Egypt - indeed, the entire world - fall before those who lust after the power sealed within the Millennium items?"
"The Shadow games and the Millennium items are of the very evil the Pharaoh sought to combat!"
"Exactly! And using the enemy's weapon against him is sometimes the only option."
"The enemy did more damage to us than you realize, Surero! His weapon is a double-edged sword! Our clan risked countless casualties to use it! Our clan has suffered innumerable injuries because of it!"
"And in the end, it was the key to the Pharaoh's victory."
That brought silence back as the dominant and most charismatic guest in the room. Haremakhet's wit brought him a retort mere seconds later, but the tension had already dissipated; he would never put it forth aloud.
But was it really a victory?
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Adjedaa's night was not so filled with tension in the verbal sense, but she found that she couldn't sleep. She was to be the next item bearer, and she had to admit to herself -- if not to anyone else -- that she was somewhat frightened by the thought.
Nebankh bore an item, suffered injury, and then disappeared. Surero bore an item and was injured. Minimally, but it was an injury, nonetheless. Akunosh vanished, as well, after he bore an item. Three out of five mages have suffered negative effects from the items; will I be the next?
She sat up in bed. Djedhor and Tasetmerydjehuty did not suffer ill effects. I should not be so fearful, but I would be less so if our court was not missing two of its members... possibly a permanent loss.
Yet... after this evening, I have yet to hear from Djedhor. I had best check on him.
She got out of bed and hastily donned a robe, then made her way through the palace. Few prowled the halls in the evening, except for guards on the graveyard shift. Security was still tight; it had been made that way ever since the court had made the decision to allow the items back inside the gates. Soldiers and mages alike were stationed at every junction in the palace, especially during the night, the perfect time to plot and execute a sneak attack.
She suddenly felt the urge to jog. Her long black hair swished and flared behind her as she moved even more quickly towards Djedhor's quarters. Her bare feet smacked the floor loudly; the noise bounced off the walls and made the guards and mages in the corridors glance up from their posts. She gave them an apologetic look as she moved along the path.
Upon approaching the door of Djedhor's quarters, she slowed down and caught her breath. There really should not be anything to worry about.
But then... why am I so worried?
She moved through the portal and saw that the court mage was lying in his bed, resting peacefully. She felt the temptation to approach him, to ensure that he was still alive and breathing, but the temptation quickly disappeared when Djedhor stirred and turned over.
She found herself breathing a sigh of relief – or was it just because she was still out of breath? – as she backed out of the room. With guards stationed at a junction not fifteen footfalls away, Djedhor would be a difficult target, should someone choose to attack him or make off with him.
That I should even be concerned with this matter is a sign of how truly dangerous this entire endeavor truly is, she thought, making her way back to her own quarters.
No, she would not be getting any sleep tonight.
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Theoris found himself getting stronger by the hour. And with his strength came an intense boredom; his muscles were beginning to beg for some sort of exercise. His mind and body engaged in a miniature war with each other; first not talking to each other, then arguing no end with each other. The fever lessened all the while, which was a good sign by the accounts of both his mind and body.
For him, however, the day seemed to progress more slowly. He tried to sleep, but after all the excessive amounts of sleep he'd gotten during the previous nights, he couldn't find the inviting twilight. So instead, he asked Haremakhet to entertain him in a game or two, an invitation that was accepted.
As the evening approached, Adjedaa came to visit Theoris. By this time, he and Haremakhet had completed their game session; Theoris had repeatedly defeated the mage. Haremakhet, disgusted by his losses, was now on the other side of the room.
The healer mage knelt down by Theoris's side. The soldier smiled. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
"I wished to know your condition," she responded. She placed her palm on his forehead and closed her eyes halfway. "Yes... yes, you are well on the way to full recovery. I am pleased."
"That is good to know," Theoris replied. He cocked his head slightly. "Have you any news of my family?"
"None which would require your immediate attention. Why do you ask?"
"Why else? I wish to be with them."
She nodded. "I know, Theoris. And you shall be. We simply cannot let you stray beyond the palace walls until your task is completed. It is for your own protection as well as ours."
"My protection?"
"Some people, like Nebankh, believe no good can come from the Millennium items, and that they should be destroyed. But to destroy the items would be to release the evil within, and that is something that cannot be allowed. If you were to return to your family, you would be vulnerable to attack by those who wish to annihilate the items out of fear and ignorance."
Theoris's expression darkened. "By that argument, you would keep me within these walls for the rest of my existence."
Her eyes widened. "No! No, never! We understand that you wish to be home, with your family... we have no intention of keeping you from them any longer than your task requires."
He sighed and slumped his head back onto his pillow. "No decision regarding the shield has been made, I suppose."
"I am afraid not, you are correct," she answered. She tried to smile encouragingly. "Fear not, Theoris. Things will turn out for the best in the end."
"Let us both hope your faith is justified."
She gave him a somber look. "Sometimes, Theoris... faith is all we have left."
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When the time came for Theoris to return to the throne room, he was able to do so on his own two feet. The guards kept a respectful distance; they could see in his stride that he would be able to make it there on his own with very little difficulty, if any at all.
As he approached the usual cadre of soldiers and mages, he saw that the one holding the Millennium item tonight was Adjedaa. He wasn't very surprised by this; after all, it had been court mages this entire time bearing items, and it seemed only appropriate that she be one of the ones to do this.
What did surprise him, however, was the look of apprehension and anxiety her eyes bore. It wasn't obvious in her youthful features, but he'd gotten to know her over the past few days well enough to see that sure enough, she was nervous about the affair.
You could not blame her for this, Khensthoth noted. Three mages of the five that have gone before her have experienced negative repercussions due to evenings such as this, when Millennium items were involved. Two of those three have disappeared and may never be heard from again.
Yet two of the five mages did not suffer repercussions of any sort, that we have been made aware of, Theoris replied. Therefore, the chance that Adjedaa will not suffer injury – or worse – is more than minimal.
If you were to say such a thing to her, I do not believe she would take much comfort in it.
Theoris offered an optimistic smile to her as he stepped forward. "Have faith, Adjedaa."
She nodded solemnly, but her eyes did not lose their light of anxiety. The soldiers and mages looked between the two item holders curiously. She held up the item to be protected this night – it appeared to be a key made of solid gold. It was devoid of an Eye of Horus, unlike the items before it, but Theoris felt little doubt in his mind that this was, indeed, a Millennium item.
"The Millennium Ankh," she stated, "has the ability to look into the minds and hearts of men. It must never be found by those who would use it to their own gain at the expense of others."
Theoris wordlessly brought the Millennium Shield to "ready" stance and, as before, sent forth the protection the ankh needed – and prayed it would work.
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Adjedaa watched as the glow that had engulfed the other items swept over the Millennium Ankh. A small dagger of fear pierced her heart as her fears once again returned to haunt her. What if this procedure produces disastrous results? First Theoris attacks Nebankh... then Surero is thrown to the floor... then Akunosh disappears, as does Nebankh.
What might become of me?
Then she shook her head slightly, as the glow intensified, reminding herself of the facts as she had done before. Tasetmerydjehuty did not suffer repercussions, nor did Djedhor. If anything, they seem more... enlightened by their experiences. So does Surero, despite his injuries.
She felt a strange warmth enter her hands and extend up her arms. It was different than sunlight, different than Theoris's fever. It was as if the glow extending from the shield was beckoning to her, offering her a blanket of softer materials than she'd ever dreamed of.
The warmth was alluring, and the further it spread, the more she felt herself being drawn into it. A small smile passed over her features, and she closed her eyes; she couldn't recall the last time she'd felt quite this good.
And when she closed her eyes, she saw nothing.
Yet at the same time...
She saw everything.
She felt herself falling, down into what seemed to be a bottomless pit. It took all of her courage not to scream at the sudden transition of warm, inviting darkness to the sensation of endlessly dropping. Her eyes snapped open, and they saw a scape that was completely different from what she had seen just a moment before. Instead of seeing Theoris with the Millennium Shield, she saw herself falling through a blazing blue sky, a golden sun beating down on her.
She dared to look down, and when she did, she gasped in awe. She saw the entire capital city sprawled out before her... all of the lush lands surrounding the palace and all of the mud-laden outskirts that constituted the city's border. She saw the Nile flowing peacefully beyond the palace, feeding the hungry shoreline and giving a home to thousands of fish... giving a job to thousands of fishermen.
Her fall continued, but her fear seemed to disappear. She had no idea why; it all seemed quite real to her, and yet, at the same time, none of it felt real at all.
She was falling, falling, falling... the descent carried her towards a well-trod path in one of the more beautiful areas of the sprawling city.
She fell on top of Theoris.
More accurately, she fell into Theoris. It was as if she were not even tangible... she had simply fallen into him, through him, almost.
But inside him is where she remained. She saw through his eyes, heard through his ears, tasted with his tongue, smelled through his nose... it was as if, somehow, she had become him.
Is this what Akunosh felt...?
There really was no way fo her to tell; she had no frame of reference, but she could only guess that it was something similar. She knew it couldn't be the same. There would be no point in two items possessing the same abilities.
She watched as Theoris moved into his modest home. She found herself both impressed and humbled by his lifestyle. Surely he could have more if he wanted... yet he seemed to feel content, entirely content, with what he had.
He moved through the doorway and smiled as his daughter ran up to greet him. He scooped her into his arms. "Hello, Abana!"
"Father!" she squeaked happily. "I was waiting for you for a long time!"
"Yes, I know, little one," he replied, his smile broadening. "But I had to make sure that I was properly attired." He looked over at his wife, and he could tell that she saw the light of mischief undoubtedly shining in his eyes. "It would not do to have your father wearing nothing but a loincloth, not on his time away from his duties."
Abana snuggled against his robed chest. "I have missed you so much! I helped Mother with her garden... I wanted to grow flowers for you!"
His smile was so broad that it began to hurt his face. "Oh, really?"
She squirmed, wanting down. When he acquiesced, she grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the rear of the hut. "Come! Let me show you!"
Theoris spotted Tamin giving him a look... one that said, "The child has been obsessing over this for a long time, so you had best appreciate it if you want your limbs to remain intact!" Theoris couldn't help but mentally chuckle. As if I would not appreciate any effort my daughter would make for me...
Abana released his hand and gave him a mockingly reproachful look. "Now, do not come looking for me before I tell you I am ready! Last time you came before I was ready!"
"I promise I will not," Theoris responded, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. "I will... see what Salatis is doing, is that acceptable?"
"Quite." She looked at him imperiously, with her adorable eyes half-lidded. "Go and behold Salatis for a few moments; I will call you."
He nodded in a somber manner, but inwardly, he couldn't help but laugh. Tamin has helped her develop quite the playful side. He moved into the corner, where Salatis was scribbling on a sheet of papyrus with a piece of charcoal.
"Hello, Father," he uttered, not looking up from the sheet. This was his normal greeting, even after Theoris's extended periods of absence.
Theoris smiled and got down on one knee. "Hello, Salatis." He spied the sheet, saw that it was a latticework of gridlines. "Is this another architectural schematic?"
"Yes, it is." Salatis looked up. He didn't smile, but as with Theoris, there was a twinkle in his eye that gave away his feelings. "I have been watching the way the architects build their platforms. Most are well-designed... many are poorly maintained."
"And why is that, do you think?"
"It is because maintaining every board is not practical. The grids are too complex. If they are made more simple, they become easier to maintain... and less resources are used."
Theoris nodded. "Very good thinking, Salatis. You shall be an expert."
"I hope to be."
"Father! I am ready now! You can come!"
Theoris hurried to meet his daughter.
Adjedaa felt almost overwhelmed by the feelings coursing through him as he saw the flowers that Abana had grown exclusively for him, a beautiful arrangement that spanned the colors of the rainbow. A love that she wished she'd had a chance to know pulsed through him as if it were the reason his heart beat... love for his son and his daughter and his wife the reason for his very existence.
She could feel what he felt. She began to understand.
It wasn't just a matter of memory.
It was a matter of heart.
Time seemed to rush forward, and suddenly Adjedaa found – through Theoris's eyes – that dusk had fallen. Theoris stood over his sleeping daughter, who briefly stirred under the blanket she'd snuggled into. A small, high-pitched sigh escaped Abana's lips as her body found its comfort. Theoris smiled; he had not the capacity to love one of his children more than the other. Nevertheless, if asked, he knew he would say he loved his daughter with every fiber of his being, disregarding cost and condition.
He leaned down and lightly kissed her forehead. "I love you so much, my little nefrew," he whispered.
Whether she had heard him, or felt his kiss and his warm breath on her cheek, or had come across some happy event in her dreams... she smiled.
Theoris got to his feet and approached the bed where Tamin awaited. She wore a simple night gown, and it clung to her graceful figure like the soft, white blanket of the clouds clinging to the sky. Her smiling visage shone in the moonlight; her eyes glinted with love and desire to be with the one she loved.
Images and sounds became blurred at that point, appropriately enough. Adjedaa was not sure she wished to intrude with eyes and ears on such a personal moment in his life, not even one as joyous as this. Perhaps it was the power of the Millennium items, perhaps she was dulling her own senses, perhaps the memory was simply distorted where vision and audition were concerned. Whatever the reason, the focus turned to how Theoris felt, in his heart. Again, Adjedaa was awash in a kind of love she could not say she had experienced... or if experienced, certainly had not recognized or appreciated in this manner. It was the unconditional, painful love of a father and a husband for his family.
Time streaked forward again. Adjedaa felt passionate love turn into ugly despair, fatherly affection turn into awful hopelessness. She felt stinging tears flow down Theoris's face as he looked up with unseeing eyes.
"How could you do this to me?" he whispered.
When the gods did not answer, he curled into a ball and wept for his daughter.
For several moments, nothing could be heard in the hut but Theoris and Tamin quietly crying. Adjedaa was overwhelmed by it and wanted to cry, herself...
But then her sorrow transformed into confusion at the sound of a new voice.
You blame the gods, Theoris?
If Adjedaa had control over Theoris's eyes, she would have blinked. That was not the voice of his mind. This voice was quite different... yet she recognized it from somewhere...
The only other I can blame is myself, Khensthoth... what would you have me do?
For the second instant in a row, Adjedaa wanted to blink. Khensthoth–?!
Neither of those options will bring your daughter back into your arms, in and of themselves. Blame yourself and you shall go mad; blame the gods and they shall curse you for your blasphemy with great gladness.
Theoris was stung by the words, though Adjedaa could tell that he found truth in what Khensthoth – Khensthoth? How could his spirit have ended up within Theoris? – said.
But I am mad, Khensthoth... mad with love for my daughter, the one I had counted on to greet me with a smile and flowers and... gods, WHY?!
Adjedaa knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that had she a body to do it with, she would have embraced Theoris in sympathy and wept alongside him.
Pain of the heart, she thought. One of the few pains I cannot heal. Curse the events that befell this man... he should never have had to suffer such pain... and I never would have known such pain if it were not for the power of the Millennium items.
Time jumped ahead again. Theoris was bracing himself against the cold night winds of the desert, using the Millennium Shield as his windbreaker.
I am glad that I am not able to sense temperature here. I never did enjoy the cold desert.
I am so happy for you. Theoris huddled as deeply into his tunic as it would allow. A third time, Adjedaa wanted to blink. Khensthoth resided within the Millennium Shield...?
There are more of those mages out there somewhere.
I assume you are not talking about the Shadow mages that the Pharaoh ousted.
Hardly. I refer to the mages that attacked us outside the city.
How do you know?
The shield allows me to sense them I know not where they lie now, but I do know that they remain in this world.
For some reason, Adjedaa felt – as Theoris did – that she could trust the voice that resounded within his mind, though in their time, and for many future generations, hearing voices was not generally a good thing.
Time jumped around. She felt herself drowning in a kaleidoscope of emotion: fear, anger, despair, joy, loneliness, hope, ecstasy, trepidation... everything was there, compressed into one instant, a last burst for her to experience.
Abruptly, the warmth withdrew from her.
Her eyes snapped open and she gasped in shock. She stared across the distance separating her from Theoris.
The soldier, though he appeared slightly weakened, did not seem overly harmed by the experience, as with previous nights. He looked into her eyes meaningfully as he stepped away.
Her breath shuddered, and she felt tears streaming down her face. She couldn't even bear to look at him, nor anything else.
There, in front of the mages and soldiers, she huddled into a ball on the floor and wept.
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