A/N:

WHEW! Sorry to keep everyone waiting. My brain has been fried the past few weeks. No inspiration at all! Funny what a little pic of Chibi Pharaoh Yugi can do to boost your writing. Anyways, more will come soon. Please review!

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Chapter 2 – The Sealed Scroll

The Pharaoh's chambers glowed with a luxury of utmost wonder. Ivory white linens draped from the high ceilings, carvings of falcons, lions and crocodiles curled around the stone pillars supporting the great canopy. Beyond the far wall was a wide view of the great city that spanned the golden horizon, a kingdom glowing with a surreal radiance. The tops of the date palms stroked the edge of the marble floors, lined with the skins of leopards; lamp stands of gold flickered candlelight across the shaded room. Laced with white silk was a couch, held up by the backs of four lean jackals, collared with ruby stones. Cushions made from the coats of gazelles lined the tops of the stools, flanked by small tables of cedar wood lacquered with fine polished copper. The surrounding walls were covered in paintings, poems and tales of the pharaoh's rule, and pictographs of his mighty empire.

Such luxuries were passed on as mere trivialities, as the Pharaoh sat upon the couch, alone and very troubled. The mysterious scroll lay bound in his clenched fist, unmoved since the moment of its delivery. Filled with rage and confusion at the happenings hours ago, the Pharaoh grew restless as to why his advisor had not arrived. He wished to know what the scroll contained, but at the same time feared opening it. If such a thing had sent the strange man to his death, it could do the same thing to anyone else. Then again, the man had given it to him out of desperation, as if it were an important message, so much so that he was willing to give his life for the sake of its conveyance. If it was that serious, then perhaps it was necessary to read its contents. Perhaps it was word of an invasion, or a rebellion, or some other report of evil approaching.

The Pharoh's mind fought with this decision as he rose and paced across his chamber to the glorious view of the city. Gazing off into the distance, he thought of what would be best for his people. If there was a threat coming, it was important that he protect them at all cost. No matter what his fear, if there was an impending evil, he was obligated to be the first to know about it. Unable to bear the mystery any longer, Atem sat back down on his couch and pried of the seal. The golden vulture head hit the floor with a ping, as he drew the papyrus from its case and rolled out its length. His ruby eyes scanned the smoothly written hieroglyphics, widening as the words formed upon his lips.

"When cometh a day of plenty

So cometh a time of destruction

The vulture's wings shall be crippled

Its nest swept away by desert winds

Life becomes death

Death becomes reality

The Eye of Horus shall be blinded

And darkness shall rule over light"

As the Pharaoh tried to decipher the meaning of the words, suddenly a guard burst through the large swinging doors of his room, rushed into the foyer and fell to his knees. Startled, Atem jumped to his feet and demanded, "Guard, what is the meaning of this intrusion?"

Trembling with lost breath and apology, the guard replied, "Forgive me, my Lord Pharaoh. I bring shocking news."

"What is it," growled the young ruler. "Tell me at once!"

"Captain of the Guard, and Priest of the Ring, Mahaado, he...he is dead."

Atem, horrified, nearly dropped the thin parchment clutched in his trembling hands. Flashes of his dear friend's kind honey-colored eyes bore into his soul. The young priest, his loyal guardian, who had forever been by his side, even more so than the others, was gone forever. Fighting the pain gnawing in his heart, the pharaoh hissed, "Tell me what happened."

Slowly raising his head, the guard said gravely, "He was found in the temple courtyard just beyond the entrance to his chambers. His throat was slashed and there were many stab wounds across his chest. I regret to inform you, my Lord, that besides this murder, the Millennium Ring has been stolen."

Pharaoh Atem's eyes flashed with rage and horror at the report, and with a wave of his hand, he commanded, "Have every guard search the palace and its surrounding area! Do not rest until the one who has done this is found. And find Advisor Shimon. Have him brought to my chambers immediately!"

"At once, my Lord Pharaoh," and with that the guard rose and fled down the glistening hallway.

As soon as the he was out of sight, and the doors were quietly shut behind him, Atem fell to his knees. Silver tears welled in his sparkling ruby eyes and he nearly crumpled the scroll in his hands. Wiping the tears away and replacing it with hot anger, he gazed again at the writing. Life becomes death...Death becomes reality...and darkness shall rule...

"What does this mean?" he whispered, choking his words past the lump in his throat.

In a span of only a few hours, what was thought to be an impossible thing in his land happened...twice: two men, an innocent commoner and his closest friend, slain by an unknown offender who was at present testing the might of his defense! His control weakening, Atem wanted to throw himself on the ground and weep in agony at his failure to keep the peace in his kingdom. The reputation he had gained as being the greatest ruler was shattering with each passing second. Yet, it was not for his own sake that he was saddened, but the for livelihood of his people. How would they feel if they knew someone had infiltrated the very house of the Pharaoh, stole a precious and dangerous symbol of power and killed one of his highest-ranking priests? How would they view him? How would they fair? There would be widespread panic throughout the whole of Egypt, word possibly spreading into Syria and Lebanon and Tyre. Such word would bring nothing but trouble and devastation. Suddenly his eyes widened as a revelation formed in his tumbling thoughts. Glancing again at the parchment, his eyes followed down to the last word on the page, a signature, written in a careless fashion, as if the penman was in haste when writing it. It read: Ras al Khaimah. Atem wondered what significance this signature meant. Is it a word used for summoning, some kind of code, a place, a country, or a person's name? Questions flooded his head faster than the rising Nile waters during a summer storm, things he wished answered as soon as possible. Where was Shimon? The old man's plugging gait should have brought him to his chambers long ago.

Rising to his feet, the Pharaoh swung open the doors and barked at the tight-lipped guards at the entrance, "I thought I ordered for you to bring the advisor here! Are you all good-for-nothing dogs loitering about in my grand halls? Find him at once and bring him to me!"

The guards, startled by the Pharaoh's sudden outburst, scrambled down the white passages, looping around the corner from which came Advisor Shimon, who, shocked at the harshness in the Pharaoh's voice, halted in his step. Surprised, Atem dropped his eyes and was immediately panged with shame at his malicious attitude. Shimon waved the guards away and approached the flustered young lord. Coming to stand beside his shoulder, the advisor whispered sternly, "It is not seemly for Pharaoh to behave as a tyrant."

Atem groaned inwardly and hissed, "Am I not human? Just because the people view me as a god, does not necessarily mean that I am one."

Smiling in amusement, Shimon stepped back and followed the Pharaoh as he retired into his chambers. Trudging across the room, Atem seized the loose scroll that he had thrown onto the couch, and shattered the cool evening with his ranting thoughts.

"This is what the stranger gave to me just before he breathed his last. I was not sure if I should open it or not, but my curiosity conquered my reason. I read the words aloud, words that I fear may have brought harm upon my kingdom, for as soon as I was finished reading, the report of my most trusted guardian's murder fell upon my ears. Shimon, I do not understand all of this. Has a curse been set upon my realm? With these expressions of death and destruction, what am I to think? How am I to fight against something I cannot see? How dare anyone find ill will against me, against my people! I have done nothing to enrage anyone! I have kept the peace; I have enforced the laws and gained the admiration of all the people. For what reason has this terrible thing been set against me? For what am I guilty? What wrong have I committed in my rule to bring this curse upon my home?"

"Please, my lord Pharaoh, do calm yourself," Shimon rushed to the youth's side, as he fell upon the couch and threatened to burst into tears. "There is no need to rile your emotions so. Let me see the parchment."

Atem handed the scroll over with a trembling hand, and the advisor read over its smoothly written words. After a moments pause, he glanced at the young man's anguished face and said softly, "My lord, do not worry over it. The events of today in relation to these words are merely a coincidence. This is probably a trick, a hoax to make you believe that some evil will come, and to cause chaos in the streets as a means of mocking your very face. Do not fear, my lord, for the offender will be found and reprimanded, and this unrest shall pass."

"You may be wrong. There are evils that exist in this world, and oftentimes they appear in the form of tricks and illusions to make us complacent, until they strike without warning and bring destruction. I shall not let that happen in my kingdom!"

"Do calm yourself. If there were any evil about to strike, the power of the Millennium Items would surely sense it long before it's coming. There have been no such predictions. Lady Aishisu, the Priestess of the Tauk and foreteller of events, has sensed no such foreboding occurrences as these words describe. Let it alone, my lord, lest your spirit shall be troubled."

Atem, unconvinced, took back the scroll, and snapped, "I shall view it as I please. If this concerns the well being of my kingdom, I shall address it immediately. Tomorrow I shall go to the Temple, to the High Priest, and ask him for his opinion on this matter. I tell you, this incident cannot be passed over as a mere coincidence."

"As you wish, my lord Pharaoh," and with that, Advisor Shimon took to leave, bowing solemnly as he shut the doors behind him.