The pain seems to hit her all at once—physically, emotionally and mentally. It's too much for her to bear. Her parents are dead, her village has been reduced to rubble. And just now, she found out the village Bakura resided, also met a similar fate at the hands of the evil army.

Her arm is motionless to her side as she cries on her knees on the cold floor after she got up against doctor's orders. Once it set in that her parents were no longer, she immediately tried to leave to find her dear friend Bakura. She was so close to the door until the doctor told her what more than likely became of her friend. Then she dropped down to her knees, bawling her eyes out and hardly able to breathe.

This wasn't supposed to happen. No harm was to befall them. They put so much faith in the pharaoh and the royal court, but they were much too late. And now everything she knew and loved was gone.

She screams as she's put back to bed, the pain in her arm becoming more intense and painful by the second.

"You have to rest. You've partially reopened your wound and you could risk infection or your entire arm if this continues," the doctor cautions. "I have herbs to lessen the pain, but you must stay put!"

Eventually, she is left to be alone, but her tears don't stop falling. Siting up in bed, she stares at the wall closest to her, watching as the sun hits against it until it fades and the moonlight shines in its place. The same motions happen for several weeks. The sun rises, the doctor checks on her progress, she is left alone and then day becomes night.

There were slight variations in her day, though. After the first few days, she started getting a visitor. He wouldn't say anything and she wouldn't look at him, but she knew who he was. He'd sit at the foot of her bed, reading a book. The only sound coming from him were the sounds of the pages turning every so often.

As the herbs wore off, she'd start to whimper and more tears would fall. Knowing there wasn't much he could do, he'd maneuver so that his book sat on his lap, allowing him a free hand to grab onto hers. He was gentle as he cupped her hand into his, but she'd never return a grasp of her own. One time she actually did turn her gaze to him as he held her hand. His eyes were still focused on the book, using his other hand to turn to another page.

She often wondered why he did this. In the past they hardly spoke to each other. In fact, the day of his birthday celebration was the most they interacted. But he was always so quiet, though he didn't seem shy in the least.

At such a young age he emits such a silent strength. He seems very mature and the fact he's still studying says a lot about him. He has a great sense of responsibility. He knows what is expected of him and appears to be aware that he will eventually become the ruler of Egypt. But is that all there is to him, or is this persona of his something he puts out for appearances?

"Why are you so quiet?"

The prince lifts his eyes from his book for the first time before slowly turning his head toward her. Her eyes are red and swollen, her cheeks have tear stains and her hair is more unruly than usual. Despite her cold demeanor, he continues to hold her hand.

"And why do you keep coming here?" she continues.

"You looked lonely. Like you needed—"

"Maybe I want to be alone," she interrupts rather sharply.

The prince takes a deep breath, deciding to choose his words wisely. "Do you wish for me to leave you alone?"

"It's all I'll ever be anyway. I have no one. Not my mom, not my dad, not my best friend. No one." She averts her gaze. "They're all gone."

"I thought I needed to be alone too."

She turns to look at him. This time, his eyes are averted from hers and they're lowered.

"When my mom died, I lost of huge part of myself," he goes on. "I wanted to run away, be alone and never speak again. Though I couldn't…"

Mana tilts her head with curiosity. "Why not?" He simply points to the crown on his head. "Oh…I see. How did you get through it?"

"She only died a few months ago, so the wound is still fresh. At first, I buried my emotions because of the expectations put on me. I'm to remain strong. Show no signs of weakness." He looks back at her. "But you taught me something."

"Hm? I did?"

"Yes. You taught me it's okay to talk about it. You don't have to go through this alone."

Mana lowers her eyes. "I don't know…I didn't actually do anything though."

"You've done more than you know."

Mana looks up at him. "I guess…we're both in the same boat. And we can kinda understand what the other is going through. I suppose that helps." It's no wonder he's so quiet. He's grieving, just as she is. And maybe coming into her room and being with someone, even if in silence, is therapeutic to him.

"My name is Atem," he says suddenly to her surprise.

"Huh?"

"I never got the chance to tell you before."

"Atem," she repeats slowly, earning a warm smile from him. For the first time in weeks, she returns a smile of her own. Then she gently squeezes his hand, feeling a sense of belonging.

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Days later—

The pharaoh has some concerns. Since the war has concluded, his son has been acting different lately. Whenever Aknamkanon is in the throne room, Atem is typically there by his side, watching the routine and flow of the royal court. The pharaoh figured it would be good experience for him, seeing as the prince will be taking on the role as king when the time is right. Although the time in which that will happen seems far off, the pharaoh believes the earlier they start preparing, the better.

Lately, the prince has not only been skipping out on the throne room proceedings, but his lessons as well. And the pharaoh intends on getting his son back on track.

As he sits on his throne, a younger man with brown shoulder length hair bows to him in respect. "You requested my presence, sire?" the teen asks.

"Yes, Mahad. My son hasn't been keeping his focus and that is unacceptable. As someone who will eventually be king of Egypt, it is important that he stays on top of things," Aknamkanon says. "Please see to it that there aren't anymore discrepancies."

"Yes, my king."

In the garden, two newfound friends walk side by side enjoying one another's company. Mana's arm is still wrapped up in bandages, but that doesn't keep her from skipping along every once in awhile when her and Atem's conversation grows more lively and fun. She hops from one ledge to another with a wobbly landing that puts the prince on alert.

"Careful," Atem says, carrying his book under his arm. How she is still in high spirits while still being injured is mind boggling to him. He wouldn't have minded spending another day inside with her if that would ensure her staying put until she is completely better. But she insisted they go outside and get some fresh air.

"Can I ask you something?" Mana asks him, subtly taking his advice by walking normally. "Are you nervous?"

"Nervous?" he raises an eyebrow. "Nervous about what?"

"You're a prince. And someday you'll be king. Does it make you nervous?"

"No."

"Scared?"

"No."

She leans over in his direction. "Not even a little?"

Atem shakes his head.

"Huh. Weird," Mana remarks. "I couldn't imagine being in charge of a whole bunch of people."

"What do you want to do?"

"Me?" she points to herself and he nods. She looks down, taking a moment to think about it. "My mom and dad were great cooks, but I can't cook at all. And I'm not sure I'm good at anything else."

"Hm…I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."

"There you are," a male's voice comes from behind them. They simultaneously turn around to be met by a teenaged boy with shoulder length brown hair, wearing a long skirt and a sleeveless shirt.

Mana tilts her head. "Who's that?"

Atem steps forward. "Mahad?"

"Your father sent me to find you. He is concerned you are not keeping up with your studies," Mahad replies, standing directly in front of the prince before getting down to one knee and bowing his head.

'He's older and yet he's bowing to Atem?' Mana thinks to herself, intrigued.

"You haven't been showing up to your classes," Mahad continues. "It's important that you do not miss a day. As you know, your studies should be your top priority."

"But he has been studying!" Mana exclaims, coming to Atem's defense. "You shouldn't make people study forever! He's a kid and that's no fun! Especially when you have to be cooped up in some room!"

Atem's eyes widen with surprise. "Mana…"

Mahad lifts his head to observe the girl. His eyes are calm, unaffected by her words. "So you're Mana."

Mana blinks. "H-Huh?"

Mahad stands to his feet. "Our king has been gracious enough to allow you to stay here."

"Stay...?" She had no idea they were allowing her to stay here in the palace. It is yet another reminder of everything she has lost in such a short period of time.

"It's imperative that you do not interfere with the prince's studies. He isn't an ordinary kid like you. He has important responsibilities and cannot afford to goof off."

Mana doesn't respond, still wondering how her life will be like in the palace. Just a few days ago, she turned her nose at the idea of ever living in the palace, though she realizes her treatment will more than likely not be the same as the prince's. What will she do while she's here?

"Please return to the study area at once," Mahad instructs the prince.

Atem turns to Mana with a concerned gaze. "Will you be okay?"

Mana snaps out of her thoughts before fanning her hand assuringly. "Of course! Don't worry about me!" she replies. As he turns around to leave, her smile slowly morphs into a frown. She has really enjoyed his company the past few days surprisingly enough. At first she wasn't sure how to perceive him due to his stoic nature and quiet demeanor. The fact he stayed by her side is all the proof she needs that he is a good person. And she'd even go as far as to consider him a friend.

With his arms crossed, Mahad peers over to Mana who continues to watch the prince walk away. He had gotten word about how she ended up in the palace and the injuries that were inflicted on her. He looks to her arm that is wrapped in white bandages. With a wound so deep, he's surprised at how energetic she seems. Any kid her age wouldn't be able to bear that sort of pain.

"I must leave now," Mahad says to her. She lifts her head to look him in the eyes with a curious gaze. "Please try and stay out of trouble." And with that, he walks away as well.

Instead of finding something to keep her entertained, she decides to follow him, keeping her distance so he doesn't recognize what she's doing. Unbeknownst to her though, he is quite aware that she's following him. Nevertheless he allows her to continue her imaginary 'quest.'

'What exactly does he do?' Mana asks herself internally. As far as she knows, he must be some sort of servant. Maybe he's supposed to look after the pharaoh, help clean or something of the like. He doesn't seem too special. And yet, something is drawing her to him.

Hunching behind a row of vases, she peeks in between two of them, watching as Mahad goes into a more private area within the palace's walls. At first, he sits out in the open with his legs crossed and his fingers interlocked. His eyes are closed, seemingly in deep meditation. His body is perfectly still aside from the occasional breeze that blows through his hair.

This goes on for what seems like decades to Mana, who now rests on her stomach using her good elbow to prop up her upper body and her chin rests in her hand. Her eyes start to get heavy and she has the the urge to leave. How much meditating can one person do? And with the sun beaming down no less.

Breathing a heavy sigh, she begins to stand on her feet, preparing to leave. It has become clear that she was wrong about him. He's just an ordinary guy that apparently enjoys his quiet time. Turning away and walking a few steps, the wind around her starts to pick up, causing her to stop in her tracks. Her eyes immediately go to the sky. The sun shines bright and there are no clouds indicating a storm.

She slowly turns around, gasping when she sees Mahad surrounded by a purple aura. Her mouth drops as far as it can go and she cautiously edges forward to get a better look. Is she seeing things? How is he doing that? A chill goes down her spine and her hair flutters briefly from the sheer force coming from him.

His eyes suddenly snap open, glowing purple as well. He whips his hand in her direction and a bright purple sphere emits from his hand, firing off and hitting a vase that's several feet away from her. Stumbling backward, she falls on her rear with a shocked expression. One moment the vase was in one piece, and the next it's been reduced to ash.

But he doesn't stop there.

Keeping his hand outstretched, the same purple aura begins to surround what's left of the vase. Miraculously before her eyes, he restores it back to its original state. Her face feels sore from the amount of eye popping and jaw dropping reactions she's done in such a short period of time. She slowly turns her head back in his direction. It doesn't appear that he's seen her.

He lets out an exhale, his shoulders dropping slightly and his hair coming to rest on his shoulders again.

As she watches him settle down, a smile creeps on her lips and her eyes light up with fascination at his display of power.

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AN: And that concludes this chapter! Thanks to those who have reviewed/favorited/followed this story so far! Until next time.