Title:Book of Tales: Tales of the People of the Sun
Author: Dragonwrangler
Summary: A powerful magic has entered the Kingdom and threatened Crown Prince Atemu's life but ancient knowledge held by two strangers may hold the key to defeating the dangerous magic.
Rating: M (just in case)
Warnings: OC, some violence, a short discussion regarding sex in a later chapter, M/F in the second half of this story. Also, the chapters are long and I mess around with Egyptian history and Celtic mythology. If any of this bugs you, get out now.
Feedback: Please.
Characters: All Millennium Item Keepers- Atemu/Puzzle, Akhenaden/Eye, Seth/Rod, Isis/Tauk, Shada/Ankh, Karim/Scales, Mahado (who becomes Keeper of the Ring in this story), Chief Vizier Siamun, Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen (Atemu's father),Mana, Gaighdon (Elf Soldier/Celtic Guardian), Ciorstag (Holy Elf/Mystical Elf), Lord Dartz.
Also the O.C. characters of Atemu's wives-Ifenete, Nekhennan, Meskera, and Dakhamazu.
Seth's father Akunadin is known by the name Akhenaden after forging the Milennnium Items. At the start of this story only Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen knows the truth about Akhenaden's true name.
Timeframe: This takes place five years before Atemu's soul is sealed in the Puzzle, at the end of the Eighteenth Dynasty. Atemu is 15, Mahado is 16, Seth is 21.
Author's Notes: This is actually a background story for another one about Mahado that I had started and is split into two parts- Tales of the People of the Sun and Tales of the People of the Mists. I had reached chapter seven of my other story when I realized I needed to figure out what happened three thousand years ago before I could go any further. As a result, a lot of the focus is on Mahado, Gaighdon, and Ciorstag.
Parts of this story may seem a little dry as I figure things out, and there may be a little more information than may be necessary to tell the story, but I'm having fun writing it. I hope you have fun reading it.
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh is owned by Kazuki Takahashi. However, the names Gaighdon, Ciorstag, Ifenete, Nekhennan, Meskera, and Dakhamazu I will claim as my own.
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Book of Tales: Tales of the People of the Sun
Chapter One
The heat caught Gaighdon by surprise. It was not the humid, heavy heat of high summer that he was used to but a dry, burning heat like that of a fire, a heat that sucked the breath from the body. The sunlight, directly ahead and as much a shock as the heat, effectively blinded his sight.
What kind of world had they ended up on?
"I do not believe we dressed appropriately Gaighdon."
Turning toward the voice he answered, "I didn't know anyplace could be so hot." Stripping off the lined cloak and over tunic that had held back the chill of the Shadow Realms he turned to find at his back a wall that was already radiating heat off its baked surface. He blinked rapidly and was able to make out the blur of the Crosspoint glyph shimmering in his shadow, just above the wall's surface. He was relieved as he watched the glyph fade back into the wall.
"I suppose you still wish to explore this place?"
He turned back to his companion and found his cousin Ciorstag already stripped down to her long blue tunic, her heavy cloak neatly folded at her feet. She was standing with arms crossed and her head cocked to the side waiting for his answer.
"Well, we are here. The least we should do is find out where here is." With a word, he pressed the extra clothing against the wall and through the glyph, dropping them back inside the Realm.
As he finished sealing the Crosspoint, he noticed Ciorstag had stepped back to look up the wall. "It appears we have at least found a civilized area in all this heat." She nodded at the wall. "There are some banners visible up there."
"The question will be whether they welcome strangers." Gaighdon said, walking away with the wall to his right. As his sight slowly cleared of sunspots, he glanced out to his left. The ground near the wall was hard packed and rocky, several small dried looking shrubs and plants scattered nearby. However, beyond that he could see frozen waves of sand pushing in, sand that stretched out to a low ridgeline in the distance. He could easily believe that rain never fell here if he had not noticed the distinct smell of water in the air.
"Any reason why we're going this way?" Ciorstag asked after a few moments of walking.
Gesturing behind him, he answered, "Mostly because it's a downward slope from here."
"Ah."
Approaching the corner of the wall, Gaighdon asked softly, "Have you come up with a way we can communicate?" He slowed and slid closer to the wall to peer around its edge. In the quick glance he took, he saw the wall continued on in the same directions several feet down from the bend they now stood at.
Gaighdon felt Ciorstag move up behind him to say, "I have a few spells in mind but it will depend on how they react to magic being cast."
He glanced over his shoulder and said with a grin, "And whether or not magic even works here."
She grinned back, "Well, yes of course there's that.
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A few steps beyond the corner they found a hole knocked into the wall. Curious, they stepped to the hole and glanced in. Magic shimmered around the edges of the opening and debris from the break lay scattered about, a narrow path cutting through its center. A sigh slipped out of Ciorstag as she straightened up and said, "We should not go in there."
"We will anyway."
"Yes," she said as she stepped through, "but if we had any sense between us we wouldn't."
"If we had any sense we wouldn't be here in the first place." Gaighdon stepped in and followed Ciorstag deeper into the building. They appeared to be in a hallway that ran parallel to the outer wall. With a gesture, he summoned a spirit light to illuminate the dark corridor, setting it to float close to the ground just ahead of Ciorstag.
A sudden shout froze them in their tracks. Angry voices echoed off the smooth walls followed by the clang of metal against metal. Gaighdon rushed forward, Ciorstag hissing after him, "What are you doing!"
Reaching an opening in the wall, he crouched down behind a column holding up the ceiling of the spacious area before him. He could see, by the light drifting down into the center of the room from slits near the roof, a group of men driving two youths backward toward the opposite wall, the bodies on the floor revealing their progress through the room. Swords clashed, the two shoulder to shoulder trying to keep the group from splitting around them. The taller of the two appeared to be chanting a spell while trying to block sword thrusts. Whatever spell he was casting was having an affect on their attackers; several were having trouble coordinating their limbs. Gaighdon was amazed at the precision of the spell; most offensive spells he had learned so far would have caused major damage to the room. A single figure within the large group dropped back, apparently trying to get beyond the reach of the spell. He suddenly crouched down to work at something in his hands.
Another shout burst out from the larger group, a shout that caused Gaighdon to turn and stare at Ciorstag who now stood behind another column.
"You recognize that too?" he whispered over as he took in her surprised look.
Ciorstag nodded. "It's the same language the traders taught us." She glanced back at the group and said, amazed, "We're not on another world; we're in the lands the Scotia came from!"
The clatter of an object striking the floor pulled Gaighdon's attention back to the fight. The taller of the two had dropped to one knee, shaking his head, a hand tangled in long black hair as he pressed a spot on the side of his head. The thrum of magic that had been echoing across Gaighdon's senses fell as the youth tried to shake the effects of the spell that had struck him. Gaighdon watched as the shorter companion- a crown just visible through golden bangs that fell across his face, the rest of his hair midnight black and edged in red- swung his sword wide. A momentary gap formed as the attackers ducked back out of reach. The youth widened the gap by taking one step back before shouting, "Creature of the shadows, come to our aid. I call on you, Summoned Skull!"
Gaighdon gasped at the sudden surge of magical energies erupting across the open space. The attackers almost turned to flee but found themselves stopped by the man at their back.
"We are cursed already! We will not live if they survive! Spread out!"
A man plunged forward with a cry but suddenly he was swinging in the air, his sword arm caught in the grip of a huge figure materializing beside him. Twice the height of the man he grabbed, the figure was like nothing Gaighdon had ever seen. He could clearly see red muscles attached to exposed white bone as if the figure had no need of skin. Leathery wings spread up from its shoulders, balancing the huge creature as it lifted its struggling captive into the air. It seemed to contemplate what to do with the man a moment before casually tossing him against a column.
"Focus on the prince! It cannot exist without him!"
The man at the rear again crouched down and began to chant, pulling out an object attached to a chain from a bag at his feet. A few of the attackers focused on the strange figure while the rest turned back to the pair.
"We can't stand here and watch!" Gaighdon said urgently as he turned back toward Ciorstag.
"How can we help? The only spell I know that won't bring the whole place down is Mirror Force, but from here that could wipe them all out!" Ciorstag answered in a frustrated tone. A second thud of another body hitting stone caused her to wince but as they both glanced back, they could see the winged figure was now bleeding where swords had sliced it, its left arm held close to its body. The spell cast by the crouching man was also restricting the creature's movements, not allowing it to move freely, and giving the attackers the advantage.
The magic in the room flared up even stronger as the youth's voice once again filled the room, the energies he raised clashing in the air against his opponent's spell. "If I clear a path for you to get between them, will you be able to cast it fast enough?" he said across the gap between them.
Ciorstag stared at him. "They have swords Gaighdon!"
"ATEMU!"
The sudden, desperate, cry snapped Gaighdon's head around. The youth who had summoned the figure was pinned by one of his attackers against a column, their swords crossed above his head, their free hands each gripping the wrist of the others sword arm. Another attacker slipped around and with both hands gripping his sword, he thrust forward and skewered the youth just below the ribs, the clang of metal striking the stone column echoing across the room. The youth gasped, his eyes widening as the blade pulled free. Both attackers stepped back, letting the youth slide slowly to the floor, a trail of his own blood marking his slide down the column, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.
Into the sudden silence Gaighdon surged forward, coming upon the group from behind where the strange figure was disappearing, Ciorstag at his side. "Get the companion back; I'll take care of the boy." Ciorstag whispered in his ear as he bore down on the men.
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Mahado froze at the crunch of sword striking stone, the sound silencing his voice. He lost the thread of heka he had been casting, the spell's effect evaporating into the silence that had fallen across the chamber. Mahado stared at the prince as he fell, his mind refusing to acknowledge what just happened.
The swordsman who had held the prince recovered first from the shock of what he had done. Raising his sword for a killing stroke, he staggered as a figure, rushing out from the shadows, struck him from behind. The pair crashed to the floor, sending the attackers into confusion as their focus went from the dying prince to the two on the floor. Mahado watched in amazement as the stranger scrambled away, grabbed the prince's sword by the blade, flipped it, and swung one handed toward the man he had taken down. There was no technique to the move but the speed he accomplished it staggered Mahado. The sword slashed across the man's throat, almost severing it completely. The body dropped twitching to the floor, scattering the attackers even more as they tried to avoid the sudden spray of blood.
The figure quickly moved to Mahado's side, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the prince, throwing him down against the wall. Before Mahado could struggle back to his feet, another figure slipped out of the shadows. Stopping before the prince, she raised a shimmering wall of color between herself and the attackers, its length stretching through the spot the stranger had just dragged him from. One of the attackers struck the wall, swinging his sword diagonally across its surface but, with a flash of light, was thrown back, a slash opening his body from right shoulder to left hip as if an invisible swordsman returned his attack .
Ducking back from a sweep by one of the remaining swordsmen, the stranger shouted at Mahado, "We need to stop the heka caster. He can break the barrier given time!"
Mahado almost shouted back at the futility of it before he caught sight of Atemu trying to turn
his head to watch the strange woman as she placed her hands over his wounds.
A crash of metal snapped Mahado's mind back to the danger he himself was still in and, grabbing his sword, he scrambled to his feet. The stranger had blocked another blow by holding the sword like a staff, a hand flat against the blade to brace it, before twisting to kick straight out into the attacker's forward knee. Mahado almost cringed at the sound of snapping bone but did not hesitate to deliver a killing blow into the man, stabbing up from under the leather vest that covered the man's torso and into his heart, twisting the blade slightly to cause more damage.
Yanking his sword free to let the man drop to the floor, Mahado gasped for air, forcing himself to ignore the dying man's inarticulate cries. For the first time since the fight had begun in the entrance hall with the death of the prince's bodyguard, Mahado truly saw their attackers. They were down to four plus the magician at their back, but Mahado could see from both their dress and the quality of their swords these were not common assassins. Each of the remaining fighters wore a green stone on a silver chain that hummed with heka, heka Mahado felt reaching out hungrily for his ka. Mahado realized only the spell he had been casting and the ferocity of the prince's anger had slowed these men down.
He watched the men's eyes as they gathered themselves for a last attack, the heka of the magician behind them and within them growing stronger and more confident. As the stranger had guessed, the spell cast now would shatter the wall protecting the prince and the woman, before tearing into their bodies. The magician was also calling up a circular barrier around himself, the outer ring glowing green with unfamiliar glyphs, its heka ancient and powerful. He could sense it was a spell beyond his ability to stop but it did not matter.
He would give his life without hesitation if it meant Atemu might survive.
As he prepared to cast the only spell he knew that might give the prince a chance, accepting the simple fact that to cast the spell would drain his ba completely and end his life, a sudden soothing calm swept into him. The calm was familiar and Mahado willingly submitted to it. A voice slipped into his mind, an unknown, powerful voice that Mahado instantly trusted. "Be patient, brother. There is an order to heka on which you must build your experience." The voice became amused, "Apart we may know very little but let us see what we can accomplish together."
Mahado's thoughts cleared as the unknown presence opened up to him, the heka flowing down the link playfully gathering up his ba and filling it beyond anything his mortal form was designed to hold. He raised the sword before him like a wand, his movements' one with the thoughts of the presence within. The heka, overflowing onto the blade and sending the metal shimmering with a green glow full of life, grew brighter and brighter. He found himself curling his free hand around the blade to keep the heka in place, while the spell to end the battle slipped fully formed into his mind, his lips easily speaking the words, the spoken words reshaping the reality before him.
He found he could see into the realm of heka, the circle and the wall no longer solid but broken up into particles that danced within the spells that held them. He could see the flaws to break the spells; little eddies where the spells and the heka whirled slightly out of step with one another.
Mahado distantly felt the stranger, filled with a unique heka of his own, begin to move around the group and said, "Go for the magician. We will deal with the others."
He felt a simmering anger from the one who had possessed him, anger at the way the heka was being used by the magician before him. He brought the sword down in a sharp arc, leaving the heka to hang free for a moment, before reaching out to gather it into his grip. With a gesture he released it, letting the power burn a path through the air. The fiery heka struck the men between him and the magician, tearing into them and shattering the crystals at their throats, before tossing them aside as if they were nothing more than leaves in the wind. Clenching his hand, he redirected the burning heka to grab the circle and rip it apart, allowing the stranger in. The stranger leaped into the air to clear the remains of the green circle as it collapsed downward, the prince's sword held high in a two handed grip over his head. As he dropped to the ground, he swung the sword down, cleaving through the magician as he landed, the edge of the sword's tip and the hand guard clanging against the floor. Mahado gathered up the suddenly wild energies that erupted from the dead magician and shifted them away from the stranger before he could be harmed. He held the heka for a moment, waiting for it to calm, before letting it collapse inward to consume the dead magician.
As the heka left Mahado, he found his body trembling with exhaustion. His legs, suddenly unable to carry his weight, folded under him and dropped him to the floor. He stared straight ahead, unseeing, until the stranger shook him gently.
"Are you all right?"
Mahado slowly focused on the concerned face before him.
"I think you may wish to try breathing, friend."
Finding the suggestion a wise one, Mahado dragged in a lungful of air, only to choke on the smell of blood and burnt flesh that now filled the temple. He doubled over, retching up bile, a fit of coughing racking his body.
The stranger crouched beside him, a hand against his back, supporting him. Focusing on the touch helped Mahado gain some control over his rebellious body and he soon straightened, breathing through his mouth, to look around him.
The light in the temple revealed the shimmering wall protecting the prince still held, the bodies of their attackers spreading out from it.
The woman still crouched beside the prince, her hands still covering the wounds on his body. In the silence, Mahado could barely hear the unfamiliar words to the spell she cast. It had the feel of a lullaby, the words gentle and comforting. However, Mahado could see the black stain of Atemu's blood covering her hand where it had flowed over, falling to spread a growing circle of darkness on the white of his ceremonial kilt. The prince's head was bowed; sweat plastering his golden bangs against the winged Eye of Horus crown on his forehead. His eyes were half closed and his face peaceful, his body relaxed and still.
Sitting down beside Mahado and placing the prince's sword on the ground before him, the stranger said, "Your companion's heka is very strong. It seems to be aiding Ciorstag in his own healing." The stranger paused for a moment before adding softly, "I didn't know that could be done."
Blinking back the sting of tears that were threatening to spill over, Mahado opened his own senses and found the thread of heka from Atemu's Millennium Puzzle as it twined itself around the healing spell being worked upon him. Closing his eyes, he found he could still see into the other realm and followed the strand of the Puzzle's heka down into the wound in Atemu's side then deep into the wound itself. Mahado was able to perceive where the two different hekas had stitched the prince back together. There was still much left to heal but Atemu was no longer mortally wounded.
He had survived.
Unconsciously leaning against the stranger, Mahado let his mind and body relax, and absently wondered what Pharaoh's reaction would be when he found out.
Although knowing Isis, Pharaoh probably knew more about what happened than they did.
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Even though he had expected the cry, Akhenamkhanen, Pharaoh of the Black and Red Lands, was still stunned when Isis screamed.
It was not unusual for Isis to be in the grips of a vision from her Millennium Tauk, she had been chosen to be the wearer of the Tauk because of her proven ability to handle such dislocation as the Tauk could cause. However, when she had dropped to the floor, eyes wide but unseeing, her breath rapid and gasping, everyone within the throne room began bracing for the worst. Still, Akhenamkhanen was not prepared for Isis screaming out his son's name.
"NO! ATEMU!"
Akhenamkhanen stared at Isis as she doubled over, her arms wrapped around her waist, tears streaming down her cheeks. He could not move, could not speak, as he watched the priestess curl in on herself. For an instant, part of him joined her, hopes and dreams curling into a tight ball in his heart, but the part of him that was Pharaoh shut out those emotions, emotions that would stop him from doing what needed to be done.
He was Pharaoh, fear and loss were luxuries he could not allow himself to indulge.
Forcing himself to move Akhenamkhanen knelt before the sobbing priestess. Resting a hand on her shoulder he said evenly, "Isis, where is he."
He could feel her attempting to rise above the vision, trying to answer his question. However, she had been pulled too deep by the vision to speak. Sensing his brother, Akhenaden, move up behind him, Akhenamkhanen drew a deep breath to brace himself for what he was about to experience, before saying to her, "Show me."
Isis surprised him by shaking her head, keeping her hands tightly held against her body. Not wishing to harm her more than she already was but knowing he had to see, he said in a hard voice as he reached a hand out for hers, "Isis, show me now!"
Unable to refuse him a second time, Isis moaned as she grabbed his hand and plunged him into her vision. It was frozen on his son, held against a column, hands locked above his head by a swordsman while another had thrust his sword through the boy into the column behind him. Mahado, off to one side, was down on one knee, his eyes just starting to take in the scene before him, a body sprawled in its own blood beyond him. Figures stood crowded at one side of the vision, all armed, with a magician frozen in the middle of a spell that appeared to be focused on Mahado.
Akhenamkhanen yanked his hand free, falling back into his brother's arms. Twisting, he could
see from Akhenaden expression that he had experienced the vision through him using the Millennium Eye that had replaced his left one.
Isis sobbed out, "It's too late, it's too late, it's already begun."
Nodding toward Karim, Keeper of the Millennium Scales who had moved up behind Isis when her vision began, Akhenamkhanen said sharply, "Have the royal Sunu see to her immediately. We will return when we can." Rising, he started toward his Chief Vizier, Siamun, standing near the entrance to the hall when he was stopped by Akhenaden.
"Pharaoh…"
"Now is not the time." Akhenamkhanen said in a flat voice. "Stay or come, but do not try to stop me." Moving swiftly away, he shouted to his Vizier, "We go armed to Amun's Temple. Have the Medjays clear the streets!"
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They were almost to the temple, having just reached the first of the statues that lined the road before the temple's entrance, when a column of green light shot straight up out of the temple's roof. A roiling storm cloud spread out from the point the light struck the sky like ripples in water that flowed out from a tossed pebble. Akhenamkhanen braced himself as his charioteer desperately tried to pull the suddenly panicking horses under control. Looking up, Akhenamkhanen watched in dread, as the world grew dark, listened to the screams of the horses and the cries of fear from the people of his kingdom as the suns' light dimmed under the onslaught of the cloud and the strange light. However, as suddenly as it had appeared it was gone- disappearing into the air as if it had never been.
Over the curses and shouts of the charioteers, Akhenamkhanen heard a voice behind him ask, "What was that?"
Akhenamkhanen turned to glance at the speaker in the chariot next to him- his brother's son Seth, Keeper of the Millennium Rod- as Akhenaden answered uneasily from his other side, "I don't know! I've never sensed heka such as that!"
Stepping quickly from his chariot, realizing it would take too long to calm the horses, Akhenamkhanen found a messenger jogging up, his eyes wide as he knelt before him. "Pharaoh, the Medjays have cleared the people from the temple area but were unable to enter the temple itself. Some type of heka bars the way. It also appears as if the petitioners that were within the courtyard may be dead, they lay scattered about unmoving."
The words spurred Akhenamkhanen forward- dismissing the messenger at his feet from his mind as the man scrambled to move out of his way- but found himself pulled to a stop as his brother grabbed his arm. Akhenaden said sharply, "You must let us deal with this first!" as Akhenamkhanen angrily broke his hold.
Seth, unexpectedly blocking his way by kneeling before him, added quickly, "My Pharaoh, the Iry of Wedju is right."
Furious at the delay and desperate to reach his son, Akhenamkhanen snapped at Seth in a dangerous tone of voice, "You would dare correct me?" He unconsciously gripped the hilt of the sword at his side.
The sudden tensing of the young man's shoulders and the sharp intake of breath before he answered let Akhenamkhanen realize how close he was to losing control of himself. The sudden thought that he was willing to harm his brother's son to reach his own froze him in place as Seth said in a fast, desperate, voice. "It was given to the Priests of the Shrine of Wedju the duty to protect the Kingdom. Without Pharaoh, there is no Kingdom. It is best to risk us to flush out this threat so that you may deal with them in the proper way."
Finding himself suddenly unable to look at the bowed form before him, he turned to Akhenaden. His brother met his gaze cautiously, his features held in a neutral expression. His one remaining eye however betrayed hidden emotions, the iris wide as his glance shifted for a moment to his son.
A son who was unaware that the man looking down at him was his father.
As Akhenaden's gaze returned to his, Akhenamkhanen brought his sword hand to his face, rubbing his eyes, forcing himself to tie up the emotions that were slowly choking him, before turning back to Seth.
"Rise to your feet Seth, son of Akunadin and High Priest of Wedju." As he rose Akhenamkhanen rested a hand on his shoulder, a shiver of guilt skittering through him as he felt the tension his touch caused the young man, and said softly, "I will not tolerate you endangering yourself. You will remain within our sight at all times."
"Do you understand, Seth?"
Seth nodded shakily, his blue eyes managing to met Akhenamkhanens' with only shadow of fear within their depths. "I understand, my Pharaoh."
Smiling sadly, Akhenamkhanen said gently, "You're a brave man Seth. May the Aten protect you."
Feeling Seth relax slightly in his grip Akhenamkhanen dropped his hand, permitting Seth to turn and call the messenger to his side as he began to jog toward the temple. Watching them, Akhenamkhanen said, in a voice only Akhenaden could hear, "Brother.…"
Interrupting him Akhenaden said, "You cannot question yourself. I saw what you saw. You would have been within your rights if you had not held your hand, my Pharaoh."
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Reaching the temple just behind Seth, Akhenamkhanen found one of the Medjays curled over in a sitting position, moaning as he cradled his bleeding hand, a magician kneeling before him casting a healing spell. He forced himself to pause to give the wounded man a word of encouragement before facing the temple's entrance. Akhenamkhanen was able to perceive a barely visible glow spanning the opening in the wall that allowed access to the entrance courtyard; beyond the glow, he saw the still figures the messenger had mentioned.
Moving up behind Seth, who was cautiously examining the glowing barrier, Akhenamkhanen turned to Akhenaden and asked, "Do you recognize this?"
Akhenaden shook his head as he glanced at the wounded Medjay. "I know of no spells that would have such an effect."
"The spell seems to be physically anchored to the entrance." Seth said, moving to look at an angle at the top of the wall. Akhenamkhanen stepped aside to allow his brother to see. "It does not extend beyond the top of the wall." Seth added.
"It should collapse if we can somehow remove an anchor point." Akhenaden said.
"If it's not protected by another spell we could use one of them to try to remove it." Seth said, gesturing toward the figures in the courtyard.
"You don't believe they are dead?", Akhenamkhanen asked.
Seth shook his head absently. "Some may be but a few still live." He looked to Akhenamkhanen for approval. Akhenamkhanen nodded and watched as Seth stepped back to point the Millennium Rod at the body of one of the temple priests lying closed to the entrance. Seth's eyes seemed to lose definition as he called on the power of the Millennium item he held, the deep blue irises slowly filling their black centers.
Akhenamkhanen rarely saw the full power of the Millennium Rod in use, its ability to control a person's ka and ba was usually unnecessary except in extreme cases. Nevertheless, Seth, only two years having passed since he had become the Keeper of the Rod, wielded the power with ease. The priest on the ground immediately rose to his feet, his eyes sifting in color to a blue that matched Seth's, before walking calmly past the entrance to a point beyond their sight. Akhenamkhanen saw a shadow of a frown pass over Seth's face before Akhenaden said, "He should be free to break the crystal, I sense no defensive spell on it."
Nodding Seth made a slight gesture with his hand, sweeping it out from his side. A sharp crack echoed through the courtyard as the barrier collapsed. Akhenamkhanen started forward then stopped to gesture the Medjay through, one pair heading for the priest Seth had controlled who was once again lying unconscious on the ground.
A growl of frustration swung Akhenamkhanen attention back to Seth, who was staring at the priest he had controlled. "His ka is gone!" he exclaimed. Turning toward Akhenaden he gestured with the Rod at the priest, saying, "That's an empty shell!"
"How can that be?" Akhenaden asked. "If his ka is gone then how is it you were able to control him? The Millennium Rod's power lies in controlling another's ka, not replacing it."
"I don't know! Even with him unconscious I should have sensed his ka but there's nothing there!"
"Pharaoh!" A Medjay beckoned as he crouched beside what appeared to Akhenamkhanen to be the temple's high priest leaning against a column. Quickly stepping to the Medjay's side he found the priest was alive but was staring unseeing out at the courtyard, an intricately carved armguard covering his left forearm.
"He's wearing a duel guard!" Akhenaden exclaimed in surprise. Glancing back, he found his brother leaning over his shoulder.
"Inside Amun's temple?" Seth asked in astonishment.
Akhenamkhanen looked away and swept the wide courtyard for any sign of Atemu, Mahado, or his son's bodyguard within its walls. Not finding one, he decided he had waited long enough. Catching Akhenaden's attention by drawing his sword, he gestured toward the inner temple. With a nod, Akhenaden turned to touch Seth's arm and said, "We need to enter the temple and find Atemu. Isis' vision placed him near the seat of Amun."
"Be ready. The vision showed several armed men and a powerful magician supporting them."
Moving swiftly across the space Akhenamkhanen felt his heart stop for a moment as he caught sight of the incense burner Atemu had carried with him to the temple lying on the floor, drops of blood leading from it to the inner temple. Seeing the blood he unwillingly slowed his steps, straining to hear any threats that lay ahead.
Only the sound of their footsteps returned to his ears.
And the low buzz of swarming flies.
Seth, having moved slightly ahead, stopped suddenly. His face tightened as he covered his nose and mouth. He crouched down to examine something between the columns. Reaching his side Akhenamkhanen found the dead body of Atemu's bodyguard, the flies beginning to settle on the man's guts that had spilled out of the cut that had opened his belly.
Seth looked up and said, "He hasn't been here that long."
"No," Akhenamkhanen said softly, "He has not." He turned to Akhenaden and said uneasily, "We should be hearing something."
"I sense heka ahead but," Akhenaden shook his head, "I feel no threat from it."
As Seth straightened he said, "I will go on ahead, my Pharaoh."
"No." Akhenamkhanen took a deep breath before glancing at Akhenaden, adding, "I need to know."
Looking back at Seth he watched the young man turn toward Akhenaden, unasked questions in his eyes, before bowing slightly and moving aside.
Moving steadily toward the final chamber that led to the seat of Amun, Akhenamkhanen sense of smell was assaulted by odors reminiscent of a battlefield: the stench of blood and sweat and charred flesh growing stronger with every step. He closed his eyes, a moment of denial sweeping through him- that if he did not see what lay ahead that maybe it would all be a dream- but he knew he had to see.
What he saw when he opened his eyes stopped him in his tracks.
Bodies strewn about the long room, bodies that were crumpled and mangled, some looking as if they had been thrown across the length of the room. Beyond the bodies' two figures, one of whom
seemed slumped with exhaustion and was leaning against the other, faced a rainbow colored wall. Within the wall, Akhenamkhanen could just make out his son sitting against a column with a strange woman with long blond hair brushing the floor crouching beside him.
A column stained with a streak of blood that led down to connect with Atemu's still form.
Unable to find his voice, Akhenamkhanen was startled when one of the seated figures turned to glance towards them. Of a more muscular build than the one leaning against him, he seemed surprised to find someone behind him. His pale skin and blond hair easily marked the man to be a foreigner, but the wide pointed ears, sweeping straight out from the sides of his head like the wings of a bird, was unlike anything Akhenamkhanen had seen. They stared at one another for a moment before the stranger shifting slightly to reach out for something before him, jarring his companion. The companion turned and suddenly Akhenamkhanen found his voice.
"Mahado!"
Scrambling to an unsteady but upright position, surprising the strange man as he did, Mahado shouted out urgently, "Pharaoh! He's all right, he's all right! The prince is safe!"
"What?"
Quickly crossing the distance between them, Akhenamkhanen caught Mahado before he could collapse back to the floor. The stranger had also risen, an arm out to help catch Mahado. Stepping back as Akhenamkhanen took the boy's weight, the stranger watched them with a cautious but curious look.
Akhenamkhanen felt Mahado tremble in his grip- not in fear, he realized, but in simple exhaustion.
"Mahado, what did you do?"
Turning, Akhenamkhanen found Akhenaden staring down in amazement at the split open body of the magician from Isis' vision.
"Actually I did that." the stranger said carefully before adding, "He did the damage to the floor and the bodies over there."
Staring at the stranger Akhenaden asked, "And the green light?"
"Green light?" the stranger asked, confused.
"The energies that were released when you killed him." Mahado said wearily. "They closed down on the magician then shot through the roof."
"Ah."
Focused on holding Mahado upright, Akhenamkhanen was unaware of Seth moving past him until the stranger suddenly reached out to grab the Millennium Rod Seth had raise to touch the glittering wall. "I would advise against that." he said before letting go. "The spell is called Mirror Force. It will reflect any action back at the attacker but with much greater strength."
"Mirror Force?" Seth asked as he stepped back from the wall, giving the stranger a guarded look.
"It protected Atemu." Mahado said as he tried to straighten and turn. Gesturing to the bodies around them he added, "It kept them from finishing what they started."
"You placed it there?" Akhenamkhanen asked the stranger, finding he was suddenly afraid to look at his son, suddenly afraid to discover for himself the truth of Mahado's words.
Before the man could answer, an annoyed female voice shouted, "Oh please, would you all shut up! And why is this still here?"
The stranger cringed slightly before turning to the woman next to Atemu. Akhenamkhanen turned to watch the woman rise to her feet. She managed to include all of them in her blue eyed glare,her hands clenched into fists where they rested on her hips. She was surprisingly tall, dressed in a long, simple, dress cinched at the waist with a golden belt and an ornately carved brooch attached at her left shoulder, her ears, just visible through her long hair, similar to the strange man.
"I wasn't sure if you were listening for trouble." the stranger said.
She shook her head and made a quick sweep of her hand. The wall faded as she muttered something under her breath.
As she dropped the barrier, Akhenamkhanen saw Atemu's head jerk back, his eyes snappingopen, a frightened look on his face. He watched, holding tightly to emotions that threatened to wash over him, as the fear suddenly disappeared, replaced by surprise in his son's eyes. Meeting his gaze, Atemu started to struggle to his feet only to have the woman turn on him before he got very far.
"And you can just sit down!" she snapped as she stabbed a finger in his direction. Startled, he sat back down and stared at her with wide eyes.
"And what in Danu's name is that thing around your neck anyway?" she continued irritably
Seth snapped, "How dare you speak to the prince that way, woman!"
"What did you say?" She snapped back as she swung around to face Seth, surprising him into stepping away from her.
Akhenamkhanen watched in bemusement as the strange man raised his eyes toward the ceiling. Shaking his head he said, as he rubbed the center of his forehead as if struck by a sudden pain, "I apologize. She tends to be cranky after casting a couple of spells."
Smiling, Akhenamkhanen nodded his head slightly toward the woman. "We will not hold any anger for such behavior directed toward us since your emotions were caused as a result of protecting our son and heir." Nodding toward Atemu he continued less formally, letting a touch of humor slip into his voice. "The thing around my son's neck is the Millennium Puzzle, one of seven items forged to protect my lands."
Glancing at the group she said, nodding toward the Rod and Eye, "These are also Millennium items?"
"Yes." Glancing at Mahado to make sure he was standing on his own, Akhenamkhanen stepped over to his son, crouching down to gently touch his cheek.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly.
Atemu nodded, "I feel fine, father." A quizzical look crossed his face. "How long was I out?"
"Not long at all." Mahado answered.
The quizzical look deepened as Atemu glanced at Seth and Akhenaden. Akhenamkhanen watched his eyes suddenly widened as he turned back to whisper, "Isis!" He cringed slightly. "When you were hearing petitioners?"
Akhenamkhanen nodded. "Yes. She saw you both being attacked. We came as quickly as we could but," he looked up at the still glowering woman with a smile, "it seems you were already well guarded, my son."
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Ciorstag did not return the smile, the buzz the healing spell had created in the back of her head souring her mood. She felt confused by the boost of power that had amplified her spell. When she had seen the damage done to the boy her only hope had been to smooth away the terror in his eyes and ease his passage into his next life. When her hands had touched him, however, the Puzzle had latched on to her magic and pulled her to where a healing spell had a chance to save the boy's life. There was no doubt the boy would have died without the Puzzle's guidance; she was good at casting healing spells but not that good.
The magic coming from the Millennium Puzzle was unlike any she had used before. Magic had always struck her as simply a tool, inert until she shaped it. Admittedly, the magic she was able to tap into was more suitable for light alignment spells than dark, but the magic had never anticipated her need.
However, the Millennium Puzzle had anticipated her need, had wanted her to save the boy.
How could that be?
She snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of the boy trying to climb to his feet again.
"What are you doing?" she snapped.
"I need to get back." he said, pausing to crouch with his back braced against the column.
Before she could respond, a voice said quietly, "Ciorstag, I don't think there's a choice here."
Turning, she found Gaighdon looking at her with an apologetic but stubborn look on his face.
The look he got when he knew he was right and was going to knock some sense into her.
She hated that look.
"Gaighdon, he's not healed! The spell is simply holding him together until his body can recover from the trauma of being nailed to that column!"
"I'm aware of that!" he snapped. As Ciorstag glared at him, she suddenly realized his clothing was soaked with blood across the front and side. For a moment, she was afraid the blood might be his until she saw his gaze was free of pain. She watched him rub the center of his forehead again before he said in a calmer voice. "I think this is like the situation your brother was in when Eirenea's seer had the vision he was dead. Remember how he was forced to appear before the council of chieftains, even though he was almost delirious with fever, because not to appear would have shaken the stability of the clans?"
She did remember and as she thought back found that the argument she had with her brother had the same feel as the one she was having now with this boy.
Gaighdon gestured to the group of men standing around them. "They were not expecting to find him alive, that much was obvious from the looks on their faces when they got here." He turned to the boy's father and said, "I am assuming the vision this Isis had was not a private one?"
The man shook his head. "No," he said with a barely audible sigh as he stood, "It was not." Ciorstag frowned at the man as she saw a look of resignation settle on his face. She could almost see in his eyes the effort it was taking him to bury the instinct of a parent to protect one's child.
Gaighdon turned back to her. "You know how fast rumors travel out from court, Ciorstag."
Ciorstag shook her head angrily. She glanced at the boy, now on his feet and leaning against the column, hiding the stain of blood, a similar look to Gaighdon's now on his face.
"He is correct." he said in a voice both apologetic and surprisingly mature in its resolve. "I must appear before the people to assure them I am all right. Isis' visions from the Millennium Tauk are powerful and accurate. If nothing else, I need to reassure her."
Seeing a flaw in Gaighdon's argument Ciorstag said, "If her visions are so accurate then why did you not know he was alive?" she said glancing at the father.
"Isis does not completely control the Tauk, it sometimes only shows fragments of an event." the boy's companion said in a tired voice, swaying slightly as he spoke.
"I can keep the spell stable until you recover enough to finish it." Gaighdon said as he caught the companion's arm to keep him upright.
Meeting the eyes of the boy's father Ciorstag said firmly, "I am not happy with this." Seeing that he was not happy either, but bound by circumstance in allowing it, Ciorstag added with a sigh, "But I do understand the necessity." Reaching into the small pack attached to her tunic belt she pulled out the vial of red medicine the Dain had given her and tossed it to the boy's companion. "Take a sip of that, it will revive you for awhile," she said before adding, as she gave him a critical look, "since it appears you need to be cleaned up as much as he does."
She glanced around at the carnage spread across the room and said with a shake of her head, "And if I ever say they have swords again, Gaighdon, just remind me of this. What a mess!"
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"...land the Scotia came from."- One of the origin myths of the Celtic people was that the tribes, as they moved west after leaving their homelands in "Ancient Scythia", stopped in Egypt for a time and served as mercenaries for the Pharaoh. The Pharaoh gave the hand of his daughter, Scota, to the leader of the tribes before the tribes continued on in their wanderings. In the myth it is from Scota that Scotland gets its name.