A/N: My take on a Ancient Egypt AU, of sorts. Thank everything that is holy that I've finally gotten this done, though the ending is a bit odd. I've been working on it for over six months, close to a year, now. This story nearly made me cry while writing it.
Warnings:Genderswitch, ANGST, Character death (Seriously, this is a Tragedy of Shakespearean levels.), graphic death scene. Pairings are DMxfem!Yugi, onesided Atemxfem!Yugi.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!.
His footsteps echoed as he made his way down the labyrinthine passages of the puzzle, his feet leading him unerringly toward his destination. He was not surprised to see the door he sought was open, flickering light spilling through the portal into the tunnels darkness.
Yugi had just awoken for school, and so he left her to be free to do as she will unless some danger appeared. She knew nothing of him yet, and it would be some time before she would know anything.
Inside the chamber, the walls were bare of the usual paintings and hieroglyphics; instead it was dominated by a large statue, the woman it depicted kneeling in prayer. She was robed in traditional ceremonial garb of a priestess, her hair veiled and leaving only her face shown in peaceful concentration.
At her feet kneeled a familiar figure.
"I thought that I would find you here." He said and noticed the other's hunched form stiffen. He walked over to stand next to the figure before slowly kneeling himself, so that he might better gaze upon the soft beauty of the face before him.
After an indeterminate amount of silence, he tried again. "Is it not strange that, even after so much time has passed, we would both still recognize her soul?"
The silent figure glanced at him briefly, and replied, "It is not so strange, when we think about the fact that she holds both of our Ib."
He hummed in acknowledgment before both continued their wordless vigil.
"Come on, Set!" a red-eyed eight year old boy called, dodging around a hedge bush to hide in a back part of the garden he'd found a few months back. He made a break for a hanging ivy screen, and pushed it aside hastily, only to come to a short stop at the sight of someone else in the haven.
His cousin bowled into him and he let out a sharp cry as he was nearly knocked over into the small pond. The noise caught the attention of the older girl and she gasped in surprise at the sight of the prince, kneeling at his feet in submission.
"My Prince," she murmured, her forehead pressed to the soft ground.
"Who are you?" Atem demanded, irritated that she was here- this was his hideaway!
"Forgive me, Prince. I-" The girl was cut off when another suddenly burst through the ivy, and Atem groaned at the sight of his teacher, Mahad.
"So this is where you've run off to." The priest said, a disapproving frown on his features. "Young Prince, I don't-" he suddenly caught sight of the prostrate figure on the ground, and the teen's words seemed to catch in his throat. "Heba, what are you doing here? Surely not to aid in their delinquency…"
The apprentice girl looked up in surprise at being noticed, an embarrassed flush stealing across her cheeks. "Priest Mahad." She bowed again, seeming to shrink where she kneeled. "I would never-"
"Of course not, but your father would."
"Saimun is a wise consul." Heba blushed again and Mahad sighed, slightly frustrated that she didn't realize he was teasing.
"Saimun?" Set piped up, looking curiously between the two.
"Yes," Heba replied. "Saimun is my father."
"Do you know as many games as he does?" Atem asked eagerly, his earlier pique gone like dust on the wind and looking as if he were about to drag her off to demonstrate just how many she did know.
"She knows more, I would say." Mahad butt in. "But that is not what you should be working on at the moment, Young Prince."
Atem glowered, about to have a fit, when Heba's soft voice spoke up.
"If Young Prince would like, I could come and play after he is finished with his studies." A small hesitant smile curved her lips. "As long as he tries his best to complete them."
Mahad looked at the young red-eyed prince expectantly, and smiled the when the boy sighed and nodded.
"And there," Heba proclaimed, laying a piece down. "You've lost again, Young Prince," she teased gently.
Atem glared at the Senet board, as though it were the cause for his losing streak against the apprentice priestess. "We play again."
"Of cou-" The violet eyed girl stopped mid-reply as her name was called, and she looked to the doorway where Saimun stood.
"Heba, I would like to speak with you a moment," the advisor said when he noticed he had her attention.
"Yes, of course, father." She bowed to the watching crown prince, with a smile that promised she would be back soon. "Please excuse me, Prince."
Standing, she walked to her father and out of the doors.
People bustled back and forth, the palace busy with displaced families, working for food while they waited out the Nile's flooding. Atem dodged a few people who were making their way through the hallways, looking for a familiar face in the crowd.
When he spotted Heba, he ran over and tugged on her clothes to get her attention, frowning when she immediately kneeled before him. "What's going on?" he asked her, pointing to where a group of people were doing some rather strange tasks.
"They're preparing for a celebration."
"A celebration?" The boy prince asked, watching as a woman worked on stitching a garment.
"Yes. A very special celebration- a wedding." Atem looked at the smiling apprentice, noticing the way she practically glowed.
"For who?" he asked, some unnamable dread coiling in his stomach like a poisonous asp.
"Can you not guess, Young Prince?" she replied with a conspiratorial wink.
The celebration was beautiful, one nearly fit for a king- though that was to be expected when it was one of the Pharaoh's favored priests being wed. Graceful dancers and exotic animals paraded through the dining hall where the newlywed couple were honored with a feast; the whole place was a spectacle to behold.
A certain crown prince, however, only felt hollow as he watched the new bride lean in to be hand fed a morsel of food from her husband. Mahad seemed enraptured with his new wife as she smiled at him around the date she chewed on; so focused was he, that he didn't notice when Heba's hand plucked a honey glazed roast fig from the table to smear it across his cheek before feeding it to him.
Atem felt nauseous.
"Hey, Yug'?"
"Yes, Jou?" The aforementioned girl turned to look at the blonde, tucking some of her blonde bangs behind one ear.
Jounouchi looked curious, his head tilted to one side in a way that reminded her a bit of a dog. "I was just wonderin', why is the Dark Magician your favorite card?"
Honda and Anzu look almost as curious, and her hand moved almost of its own volition toward the deck on her belt. "Why?" she asked.
A shrug from the blonde, before he answered, "It's just that there are other more girly cards in the deck… heck, there's even a Dark Magician Girl! So why that card?"
"Well…" Yugi seemed almost as confused by this question as Jounouchi himself was. "I don't know. I just… feel a connection with him."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah." Picking the top card from the deck, Yugi wasn't surprised to see it's the Dark Magician and automatically a smile tilted her lips.
A ten year old Atem snuck down the palace hallways, the torches casting dark shadows on the walls; it was late and his father was busy in a meeting with his priests about some problems they'd been having lately. He was currently looking for his friend, who finally had been made a priestess within the past year.
The prince was worried because he hadn't been able to see Heba lately because the adults told him she was sick, though for some reason they'd seemed excited about the prospect; the prince was confused because why would anyone be happy that someone was sick, especially when, in his esteemed opinion, that person was Heba?
At least, no one else had been worried until that morning when Mahad had walked into the morning meal looking like he was about to vomit. This had doubled Atem's worries until he decided to take things into his own hands, so here he was, sneaking into Heba's chambers while his father and Mahad were busy with problems of state.
He cracked the door open, peeking through to see that a small bowl of oil was lit, allowing a dim light to filter through the room. Slipping through the door, closing it quietly behind himself, he padded over the figure he could see on the bed.
Atem gasped when he saw her face, drawn and haggard, the pallor of her skin much too pale and an expression of sorrow knotting her normally placid and happy features. One small hand reached up to touch her cheek, and he frowned at how cool her skin was.
His touch caused her to rouse, her eyelids fluttering open so that she could gaze hazily at him. "Heba?" he whispered fearfully. Her lethargy scared him and for some reason he wanted to cry.
"Prince?" The query was barely audible, and her voice was thick with disuse.
That she recognized him caused some of his fears to abate, but he still had to make sure she was okay. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Everyone told me you've been sick… are you okay?"
Heba opened her mouth to reply but froze as a sudden realization hit her, and then such a painfully heartbroken smile twisted her features, it made Atem sick to see it. "No." Tears began to trail from her eyes and she began to curl in on herself. "No, I'm not."
"Heba?" he called, his voice thick with his own tears. He sniffed and tried to get her attention again. "Heba?"
The prince was startled when her arms reached out and pulled him onto the bed, coiling around him as he found himself cradled in her arms. A small hiccup erupted from his throat in grief when he felt the first sobs wrack her frame, and she eventually broke out into a low wail. They stayed like that for hours, him silently crying in her arms as she cried out her anguish; the only interruption was when Mahad returned and crawled into the bed with them, nearly silent in his own pain.
Her soft violet eyes gazed up at him, curiosity shining from them in the low light of his soul room.
"So, who are you?" she asked.
Now, if only he knew the answer to that himself. The only thing he could remember was her. "…I don't know."
"Okay…" She seemed a little unsure, but she did not press him for answers. "Where did you come from?"
"The Puzzle."
"The Millennium Puzzle?" she clarified, and hummed thoughtfully when he simply nods. "Wow," she said eventually. "That's so great!"
He smiled at her enthusiasm. "Yes, it is… aibou."
Sweat drenched the teen prince's skin as he awoke, and he sat up, grimacing at the feel of the soiled sheets against his skin; it was that dream again, the third time that week. The dream was both sweet and torturous, allowing him to live his fantasy and yet leaving him with a hollow feeling when morning came.
Leaving the sheets for the servants to clean, he moved to the bathing area where the musk was washed from his skin.
After his morning ablutions were finished, he made his way down to the dining room, his stomach protesting it's lack of food. Just as he was about to turn a corner, an opposing body came around the corner and ran into him, nearly knocking them both over. Reeling back, he looked down to see that it was Mana, Mahad's new apprentice.
Opening his mouth to chastise her, Atem was cut short when a small burst of feminine laughter reached his ears. He looked up to see Heba watching them, a smile lifting her lips as her eyes glittered with mirth.
After that day when he was ten, Atem would never take her smiles for granted- when she had lost her child, Heba had been melancholy for several months, almost never smiling. Compared to what she had been before, it was as though the entire light in the palace had been smothered, and everyone had been affected- Atem worst of all. The prince would have severe mood swings, especially when Heba was upset, and they only abated when she finally came out of her grief.
Now that a few years had passed, the thirteen year old prince found his emotions affected by her once more; when she smiled at him, his skin would burn and he could rarely meet her eyes. And it had gotten worse since he started having the dreams.
"Mana," the priestess called, walking to where the two adolescents stood. "Did I not say that you shouldn't run in the halls? Now look what you've done."
"Yes, Heba," the apprentice replied, hanging her head. As her Master's wife, the girl idolized the priestess for her grace and position as the palace's greatest healer.
"And are you alright, Prince?" Heba asked.
Atem stared at Mana to avoid looking at the woman, forcing down a blush as he replied, "Yes, I'm fine." Sometimes, he still felt like a child under her eyes, even though he was taller than her now- only a little bit, but he was still taller.
She remained silent for a moment, but before anything more could be said, running footsteps came their way, a guard calling urgently for Heba. The priestess glanced back as she left, and Atem felt dread settle in his stomach as he remembered a similar instance.
Why? He didn't understand it. What happened?
Atem's fingers glided over the etched surface of the Millennium Pyramid, his by rights now that his father was dead. It was too soon. Too soon! He wasn't meant to rule yet! In a fit of rage, he stood up, throwing the gold pendant with all his might- he was disappointed when it hit a pile of pillows with a muffled thump.
"Are you finished?" The cool tones of his cousin asked, and the new Pharaoh felt himself go rigid under the other's stare. The other priests were out to embalm his father's body for burial, and so he was left at his cousin's mercy.
"And if I'm not?" he asked defiantly, turning to stare into the other's cool blue eyes.
The other didn't reply, instead moving to pour them both some wine and changing the line of conversation. "I would have thought that you would expect this, what with the increasing problems the kingdom has been having lately."
"One never expects death."
"And yet, it is one of the few things even you are not immune to, dear Pharaoh. A bit like a certain priestess…" the older boy trailed off meaningfully.
The Pharaoh snarled, taking an angry drink of his wine before turning on the other. "Like you are not affected as well."
"I do not pine for her as you do, cousin."
"Oh?" Atem scoffed. "And what do you propose I do? She is married to one of my fa- my priests."
"You are the Pharaoh, now." Set pointed out. "Your word is divine law."
"Never!" The young pharaoh's motions were violent as he poured another cup of wine.
"How young you still are, cousin." Set mocked from where he lounged, watching the other bring the cup shakily to his lips. "Are you sure that this infatuation of yours will last? Or that, if it does, you can keep that oath? You have the ultimate power in all of Kemet, now, how do you know you will not abuse it?"
Suddenly, Atem felt as though he had been struck with a sleep spell, exhaustion relaxing his muscles and weighing his shoulders. His hand no longer trembled with emotion. "I just know," he replied softly, and proceeded to drink himself to oblivion.
Yugi looked up at him curiously, her eyes tracing the planes of his face. "Why don't you want to go on a date with Anzu?" she asked.
Smiling gently to ward off any fears that she might be having, he replied, "Well, for one, if I went on a date with her, I would have to do it in your body. Don't you think it would be awkward if she was seen with another girl on a date?"
The girl blinked, as though the thought hadn't occurred, and then blushed. "Oh."
"Second," he elaborated, "it wouldn't be fair to her, since I don't like her in that way."
"You don't?"
"No, aibou." He replied, pulling her into a hug. "I like someone else."
"Really? Who?" she asked eagerly, and he chuckled.
"That's a secret."
The fifteen year old pharaoh's shoulders were stiff and sore from sitting in his throne, another meeting about the rising problem of the tomb robber Bakura lasting well into the night. Atem had ordered his guards away, just wanting some solitude as he made his way back to his rooms- it's not like he couldn't protect himself, anyway.
The sight of Mahad and Heba in the corridor up ahead caught his attention and he quickly slipped into an alcove, the shadows cloaking his form. As much as he cared for both, he didn't want to be seen by either of them at the moment.
Luckily, neither of them noticed, to engrossed in the discussion they were having; Heba looked upset and Mahad was slightly angry.
"Why?" Heba whispered, pulling on her husband's sleeve when he moved to ignore her. "Why won't you let me do this for you?"
"We don't have time to waste, Heba!" Mahad replied heatedly. "After what Bakura did to Akhenaten's tomb, we need to bring him to justice."
"But don't you see?" Heba pleaded. "You're worrying yourself to the bone. You won't get anything done if you drive yourself to your own grave."
"This is for the good of the kingdom, Heba. I would have thought you of all people would agree with me on that." The accusatory tone in Mahad's voice struck Atem like a knife, and apparently it was the same for the Heba if her betrayed look was indication.
The following slap that resounded in the empty corridor caught them all off guard.
The priestess stared up at the shocked mage priest with angry tears in her eyes. "Don't you see?" she hissed like one of Bastet's guardians. "You're doing exactly what he wants you to! Bakura is trying to drive us all apart, and you, all of you, are falling into his trap like calves in a lion's den!" She slapped Mahad's hand away when he reached for her, stepping back. "There isn't a day that goes by anymore that I don't see all of you attacking one another for perceived wrongs, or you blaming yourself when Bakura manages to get the upper hand! I fear that if this goes on any longer then we will not have to worry about Bakura at all, for you all will have already destroyed one another!" She screamed the last of her words, outright sobbing now.
This time, when Mahad reached for her, he managed to grab her wrist pulling her towards him even as she struggled to escape his grasp. "Heba," the older man said soothingly as he cradled his wife to his chest.
"No," she sobbed, pushing herself away. "No! Let me go!"
"Heba," the man muttered again, stroking her back.
"When, Mahad?" she asked in grief, her voice choked with tears. "When was the last time I got to fall asleep in your arms, or wake up and have you still beside me? When was the last time we shared our marriage bed?"
Atem turned his eyes away when he saw his mentor and best friend move to kiss his wife, unable to stop that familiar asp from curling in his gut as he wished he were in the other man's place.
"Bakura is getting bolder." Set announced after the most recent of the attacks the self proclaimed Thief King had made.
"His power is growing rapidly," Shada acknowledge wearily as they all contemplated the most recent news.
The Pharaoh leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together in front of his face in thought. "Saimun," he eventually said. "What do you advise?"
The elderly advisor sighed, speaking the words that they all wanted to say, but none dared to voice. "One of us must go and face him head on. We cannot let this continue."
Silence fell between them, none daring to look a the others for fear that the one they looked at were to be chosen for this task- a possibly suicidal endeavor. Finally, Mahad broke the silence. "I think that we all know who the choice for this assignment is, why prolong the inevitable forever?"
All eyes snapped to look at his downcast figure, and Atem sat up, surprise and fear on his face. "Mahad-"
"No, my friend," the priest interrupted, shocking everyone with the lack of his usual deference. "We all know that with the Millennium Ring I will be able to find him more easily than anyone else, so why deny it?" Standing he walked to the door of the meeting chambers. "I will leave immediately."
"And what of Heba?" Saimun's elderly voice asked just as the other reached the doors. "Surely you are not going to leave my daughter without an explanation?"
Mahad froze in his tracks, head bowed low and replied, "Of course not, she will be told. But," he turned to look at his fellow priests and priestesses, "please protect her while I am gone."
There was a finality in those words that caused them all unease.
"The attack was a failure."
The Pharaoh felt his heart sink at the news, watching the bedraggled soldiers as they reported what had happened during the attack against Bakura. Hearing of the thief's power made chills run down his spine, though he allowed none of his disquiet to show.
"You may go and rest," he replied when they finished their tale, though it was not hard to imagine the horror they went through from their worn states.
"What of Mahad?" he heard a low voice whisper from somewhere behind him, and a strangely familiar presence stirred at the edge of his senses. All of the Millennium Item holders became alert as the Shadows stirred, and a form in dark purple and black armor robes slipped from a shadowed corner to kneel in the center of the assembly. Gasps echoed throughout the chamber as people recognized the figure there.
"Mahad?" he asked in dread, watching the shadow monster lower its head in shame.
A small figure darted from the surrounding crowd, people crying out as Heba ran to stand in front of the monster. The priestess' knees seemed to give out on her as she saw the monster's face, and Atem winced at the sound of her knees hitting the unforgiving sandstone floor.
"Mahad?" was the barely heard murmur as she reached out to touch his face, but the shadow monster flinched away from her fingers. Heba recoiled at the rebuff, before she tried once again and was again refused. Though he could not see her face, the young Pharaoh could still hear the anguish in her voice, "Why won't you let me touch you, Mahad?"
The magician did not answer, his eyes focused away from her face. In desperation, she threw herself at her former husband, wrapping her arms around his neck as she buried her face and began to cry. Her anguish echoed in his own heart, as Atem watched her try to find comfort in what was left of her husband's soul.
Stiffening in her embrace, the monster locked eyes with the young Pharaoh and Atem knew then with a sinking feeling that Mahad saw his hidden feelings for his best friend's wife. The magician seemed shocked but also resigned, and so, raising the hand that was not holding his staff, he caressed the back of her head before disappearing into the shadows once more.
His sudden departure caught the weeping woman off guard, and she sprawled to the ground as she tried to hold him to this plane. "No!" she cried. "Don't leave me, Mahad! Mahad!"
"Everyone out!" Atem ordered as Heba continued to scream her husband's name, the people fleeing as they noticed his rage. "Isis, Saimun," he beckoned to the older man and priestess. "Come help me."
Heba fought as they worked to haul her off of the floor and take her to a secluded room, not even the young ruler coming out unscathed. They held a night long vigil as she released her anguish, crying and screaming until at last her mind fled into dreamless unconsciousness.
Yugi was asleep, her small form curled up on the bed in her soul room. Yami sat and watched as she dreamed, her soul room shifting to accommodate the emotions that her dreaming evoked in her. He ran his hand through her short hair, the choppy pieces in the back tickling his palm while he tucked the longer blonde bangs behind her ear.
He felt a stirring in the puzzle, and waited until the other was framed in the doorway. They said nothing to one another as they took up their nightly watch, making sure to soothe her when a nightmare came for this was some of the little they could do for her.
A feast had been held that night, in honor of a visiting noble who was offering his daughter up for marriage- not that Atem was interested in the least, he just used it as an excuse to immerse himself in some fine wine. He weaved his way down the hall, nearly tripping over his own feet a few times; his balance suddenly shifted, sending him careening toward the nearest wall but a small hand caught his arm, saving him from such an embarrassing fate.
He looked down to see a pair of melancholy violet eyes. "It seems that you are a bit drunk, my King." Heba said with a slight hint of humor.
"So it seems," he agreed, his body swaying forward on his unsteady feet.
A small smile slipped onto her face, and she led him in the directions of his chambers. "Come, let us get you some water, lest you curse me for not saving you from your morning's fate, Pharaoh."
"I would never curse you," he rebutted, a little loudly in the quiet of the night. "We are friends after all."
"What?" she asked in surprise.
"We've known each other long enough after all." he elaborated.
They paused outside of his doors, both ignoring the guards stationed there, as she thought about his request. "I-" she began, not looking at him. "I am not worthy." she finally managed, her eyes sad.
"Surely," His voice was low, his deep voice rumbling through the still night air. "Surely the one person who can not only meet but defeat me at games, the woman who is my equal in skill, is worthy of being called a friend."
Her eyes skittered to his own, like a wounded animal, but she did not reply. Instead, she pushed the door open, coming to an abrupt halt when she noticed an unfamiliar girl in the room. Atem was surprised when the priestess took a step in front of him, as though in protection.
"Who are you?" the pharaoh asked, moving around to stand in front, and the girl looked up in surprise from where she sat before kneeling and kissing the floor. "How did you get in here?"
"I was sent here, my king. My father-" Atem cut the girl off.
"No one is allowed in here without my express permission. Who told you that you could come in?" He tried again.
"I-" she tried again, clearly frightened by his presence.
A subtle brush of cloth to his side reminded him of the healer's presence. "Leave." he ordered, watching the girl flinch before she scrambled to her feet and ran from the room. With a flick of his wrist, the doors shut with a bang in an unusual display of magic, leaving the two once more in the echoing silence.
It was broken when Heba moved to a pitcher of water, pouring a small cup which she then drank to test for poison- Atem's heart twisted as he watched her perform the familiar move, and was relieved when nothing happened. Pouring another glass, she handed it to him and he drank it slowly, his bladder already full from hours of drinking.
Upon this realization, he went to relieve himself, and returned to find her looking out the window, another glass of water in hand for him to drink. She watched him sip the water, and his fuzzy mind told him to fill the silence. She beat him to it. "You look tense."
He gave a humorless laugh, bowing his head in agreement. "The nobles have been hounding me to marry, or at least produce an heir. I can only imagine that the girl who was in here was a clumsy attempt to at least get me to try. And on top of all of this trouble with Bakura…" She tensed at the mention of the thief's name. "I'm sorry." he apologized quickly.
Shaking her head, she moved instead to look him over, as though for a health inspection. "Are you getting headaches?" she asked, noticing the tightness of the skin around his eyes.
"The question, I think, should be when do I not have one?" he retorted in wry amusement, his drunken humor slowly returning.
"I see." Slipping the crown from his head, she forced him to sit on the bed. With light touches infused with her own type of magic, she gently massaged his head and neck, soothing the tension that lay there. "You're supposed to tell me when these things happen, Pharoah. I cannot help you in my official capacity if you do not tell me what is wrong."
He could only groan in response, her fingers a blessing on his skin and comforting as they worked through his hair. "I'll have to ask you to do this more often," he commented offhandedly, his eyes drooping at the feelings.
"Ah, you enjoy it so much?" Her voice was tinged with laughter. "You have but to ask."
Sliding her hand one last time through his hair, she took a step back and he bathed in the relaxing lightheaded feeling calming his mind. "Finish your water and get some sleep," she finally said, but he grabbed her wrist when she made to leave. "What-?"
"Stay for a little while and talk with me."
Heba looked surprised and a small frown of worry creased her brow, but she acquiesced.
"I-" Yugi seemed to be at a loss for words, though it was no wonder considering just what she had learned about the past. Her bright violet eyes looked up at him, beseechingly, "You knew, didn't you." It was not a question. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Yes, I knew some of what happened." Atem replied, running a fond hand down her cheek. "However, Yugi, though you may have been her, you have been given a new life and I did not wish for you to be burdened by things that were meant to stay in the past." He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Live freely, forging a new future, and do not be chained by what was so long ago."
His heart was pounding in his chest, even as a high pitched ringing echoed in his ears; with a sort of distant fascination, Atem watched as Heba staggered and collapsed to the floor, his eyes picking out every detail of her small form with crystal clarity- every trailing braid, every fold of cloth, every drop of blood.
He could hardly force his eyes upward to face his attacker, into the cold blue eyes of his own cousin, Set.
His mind absently noted that he was suffering from shock, but another part of him couldn't help but scoff at the notion- who wouldn't be shocked at such a betrayal?
Heba let out a low cough, and the world seemed to refocus, sound rushing back in it's previous absence. Set had taken a step back, and was now looking down at the fallen priestess with what Atem would almost call regret if he thought this man standing before him could feel such an emotion; the strange sheen on the bloody blade of the Millenium Rod spoke differently, however.
The sight caused something to rise in Atem, a swiftly cresting tide of rage that his senses seemed to black out, vague sounds of shouting and half heard words registering on his ears, and when he came to, he was no longer sitting in his throne but standing over the downed form of his cousin, the Millenium Pyramid burning red hot under his hands. He drew in a shuddering gasp, looking around at the suddenly destroyed room, unable to remember what he had done; his eyes landed on Heba once again, and he went to her, kneeling to cradle her in his arms.
"Heba," he croaked. His throat was sore, like he'd been screaming.
"Pharoah," she whispered, blood streaking down her chin. Her eyes were glazed, and she was soaked in her own life's essence. He vaguely registered the noise of guards scurrying about.
"Why?" he asked. "Why did you shield me? Why!?"
Her smile was nearly grotesque in how much affection for him it held, and he flinched when she touched his face with one bloody hand. "My Prince-" She took a breath to say more, but choked and began coughing, more crimson fluid bubbling out of her mouth, splattering his face and adornments.
Atem watched in horror as her throat worked to clear her breathing space, only to gag and cause her to choke once more, her body writhing in his arms in pain. Her struggling began to weaken when she could not bring in enough air, slowly drowning in her own blood.
Heba finally fell still, and he pulled her body into his arms, slowly standing to face the others in the room.
"Great Pharoah," one of his guards began.
"Silence," he ordered. He turned to look every occupant of the room in the eye, silently weighing them, tallying their loyalty.
Without any other comment, he turned and left, heading toward his ritual room.
Atem leaned down to smell Heba's hair one last time, the faint traces of jasmine lingering under the scent of death.
His enemies would rue this day- he would give his life to make sure of it.