A/N: Disclaimer remains the same.

I'm a little busy right now, with home life and such, so I'm sorry if I don't get this uploaded right on time. But please don't give up on me!

Thank you to Eleanora-Griffindor for subscribing to my story! *smiles* I appreciate it!

Chapter Two Discovery

In the Pharaoh's temple, near the Palace, a great trembling started. The Priests felt it and looked up, startled. The ground beneath their feet shook as a loud, hissing roar started up from the distance. Those that were near a balcony ran out to the railing to look to the temples, eyes wide. Dusty smoke rose from Pharaoh's temple as it shook and rumbled, and for a moment the Priests feared some great monster was inside destroying the tablets. Shimon was the closest and ran from the Palace as quickly as his short legs would take him, staggering and stumbling as the ground continued to shake under his feet.

By the time he arrived, he was panting and huffing for air, resting a worn hand on his chest, and he looked up at the great stone building as the tremors started to fade. He carefully walked inside, then froze, his eyes widening. Lying in innumerable broken pieces, all over the floor and steps of the temple, was Ra's tablet. Where it had been hung on the wall there were only slivers remaining, the rest of the shard and fragments scattered in the temple, the dust still floating dismally in the air. Shimon gaped at the broken God's tablet, horrified and uncomprehending. What could have destroyed a God's tablet so completely? And what happened to the Pharaoh?

The soldiers with Priest Mahad were confused by their leader's sudden stop. They themselves were terrified of setting a trap of the infamous King of Thieves, but they knew their duty; follow Priest Mahad until he ordered them away or death took them. The Priest was the strongest they'd seen, his power only rivaled by that of Priest Seto's, but never had they seen him falter like this. Never had they seen him hesitate for anything, no matter the reason. For as long as any of them had worked in the Palace, they'd all seen him work diligently, without rest, until ordered to by the Great Pharaoh. So why, they wondered. Why does he hesitate now?

"Is something wrong, Priest Mahad?" one was daring enough to ask after the silence stretched on. But he didn't answer. And again, there was nothing but silence. The Priest didn't move, didn't speak, and none of the soldiers were willing to risk their lives by moving their horse in front of his to see if he even blinked. Then, without warning, the Priest kicked his horse in the ribs and galloped away to where he'd last felt his Pharaoh's presence, a troubled, almost frightened frown on his face. Atem… you were at the Palace, why did I feel you out here…and why can I no longer sense you…

The soldiers blinked in surprise and looked at each other, confused, then shook their heads and galloped after him. But their simpler horses weren't as fast or strong as the Priests' high-bred ones, and they soon started to fall behind the Priest, who appeared to have been suddenly driven mad, forcing his horse to go as fast as it could, spraying sand in a fine dust behind him from under the beast's hooves.

And Mahad refused to stop, even when his horse's sides were heaving for breath, its silky flanks wet and dark with sweat. There was an urgency spurring him onwards, the likes of which he'd never felt in his life, as if there was a fire burning his back and feet, and he knew that if he didn't keep going, keep moving forward, he would be burned alive.

He saw the crater before anything else. At first, he didn't understand it. To his gaze, it looked like a massive shadow in the sands, but that logically didn't make any sense. There were no clouds in the sky, and nothing around to cast such a huge, monstrous darkness. As he got closer, he saw that it was more than a shadow, it was a hole in the earth; a deep indent as if a God had reached down and scooped up a piece of the mortal world. He stared at it, stunned and amazed, then his gaze was drawn to the two figures lying away from it, off to one side. He tugged the horse's reigns, finally allowing it to slow as he approached them.

The first figure his eyes landed on was none other than the King of Thieves himself. He was on his belly, one hand stretched out in front of him as if he'd been trying to crawl away from whatever happened to cause the massive crater behind him. His head was turned to one side, his unmarred cheek resting against the hot sand, and there was blood smeared across his lips, covering the sand under and around his head. His eyes were open but glassy, his spirit long gone, but the pain and shock he'd felt before he died was still imprinted in his lonely gaze. Mahad looked at him, stunned and surprised, unable to see what had caused him to die. The blood beneath him is not enough for him to have bled to death… He shook his head, then looked to the other figure.

He swore he felt his heart stutter and stop and shatter all at once. Lying on his back, pinned to the ground by a sword impaled through his chest, was none other than his Pharaoh, Atem. The golden sand was soaked and stained a deep red with his blood, the same color covering the pale robes over his chest. A gentle breeze swirled across the scene, teasing Atem's blond bangs over his sun-kissed cheeks, bringing a fine dust to settle softly on his bloody, rumbled robes. His expression was almost peaceful despite the blood on his lips and streaked down his cheek from where it had slipped from his mouth, but there was sadness there as well. A sad apology.

Mahad stared at him, horror and disbelief raging through his mind, then he hopped off his exhausted horse and ran forward, dropping to his knees by his fallen love.

"Pharaoh!" He moved one hand to the young man's neck to check for a pulse, despite the logic ringing painfully clear through his mind, and leaned down to rest his ear just above his lips, trying to feel any sign of breath. He stayed like that, hunched over the lifeless Pharaoh, for so long his soldiers started to catch sight of the crater from the distance they were at. Then he pulled back and looked down at Atem, his mind reeling, his lungs struggling to breathe. His head was spinning and dizzy, his body trembling, the core of his being trying to reject what he was seeing. "Ph…Pharaoh…" He reached one hand out as if to touch his shoulder, to shake him and rouse him, then his eyes rolled back and he keeled over sideways, laying in the bloody sand next to Atem, unconscious.

By the time the soldiers arrived, they'd already noticed Mahad's unattended horse and a panic was raging silently through all of them. The sight of the massive crater in the ground had alarmed them badly enough, accompanied by Priest Mahad's unusual actions before, and now the sight of his rider-less, exhausted horse sent a frenzied worry through them. They urged their weary, gasping horses faster until they arrived at the scene, their eyes widening at the three bodies in the sand.

"Priest Mahad!" Every soldier dismounted and ran over to the Priest, only to gasp in shock at the body of the Pharaoh lying next to him. "G-Great Pharaoh!" They gaped for a long moment, some eyes managing to look at the Thief King's body, then one soldier knelt down to gently touch Priest Mahad's face to try and wake him. The unconscious man stirred slightly, not waking, but a few softly whispered words slipped from his lips.

"Get…the Pharaoh…" The soldier stared at him in shock, not understanding how he could have spoken in his clearly unconscious state. But never the less, and order was an order, and he hesitantly pulled away, nodding even though the Priest couldn't see.

"A…alright." He got to his feet carefully, then walked over to the Pharaoh's body, frowning. He closed his eyes, trembling, shocked at seeing the God-incarnate in such a sad state, and murmured a soft, apologetic prayer before wrapping his fingers around the hilt of Touzoku's sword and pulling it from his chest. He winced and shuddered at the sound of it scraping back out of his wound and quickly tossed the bloody weapon aside, the dirty metal skittering across the sand. Then he knelt down next to the Pharaoh, unsure if he was allowed to touch him to pick him up.

Some of the other soldiers moved over to the Thief's body, checking its pulse despite his appearance, wanting to be absolutely sure he was dead and gone. They looked over the man's body, baffled like Mahad had been as to how he had died. One soldier ran his hand over the Thief King's muscled back, then shrugged and shook his head, finding no sign of wounds or injuries. But as long as he was dead, unable to trouble them anymore, they didn't care.

The soldier who knelt next to the Pharaoh watched his companions, then looked back down at the young man in front of him, frowning. He's younger than me, but also an immortal of the Gods…yet…in this world he's gone… He looked down sadly, then shook his head and carefully slipped his arms under the Pharaoh's body, moving them across the bloody sand, then lifted the body up to hold it against his chest. Another soldier hurried up to him and gently arranged the Pharaoh's limbs so both his arms were folded over his bloody middle, then he bowed and murmured a soft apology for touching him, even though they both knew the Pharaoh was too far away now to hear it.

The soldier looked down at the young man in his arms, his expression devastated, not bothering to hide the tears in his eyes. Yes, the fearsome King of Thieves was finally dead, finally gone, but he could barely believe the price they'd had to pay. They'd lost their Pharaoh, their God-sent leader, the one who was supposed to lead them to a brighter, more peaceful future. He'd been so young when he'd ascended the throne, but he'd lead them so confidently… As the soldier kept looking down at him, he swore he felt a shadow settle over them.

The loss of such a young, brilliant life could not bode well for Egypt's future.

A/N: Musical assistant: Our Farewell by Within Temptation.

I'm afraid I have the flu right now, so I don't have much to say.

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