The sweltering sun and the muddled voices of servants were all he heard through the mists of sleep. His heart bashed violently in his chest, pressing close against his ribs as if his body were being squeezed tightly. Tan-skinned abs drooling with sweat, legs entangled in the bed cover he slept with every night.
"Is his majesty alright?"
One of the servants' voices finally became clear enough for Atem to hear what was going on. His mind was still filled with cluttered thoughts from the array of nightmares he had gone through - his people dying violently, the screams of the innocent played in his mind like the musical playing of mizmaar player (which was dreaded in Atem's eyes, he was considering banning the man from continuing however ever since his father passed the fear of being seen as tyrannical grew).
Atem finally found the courage to open his eyes. Eyelids lifting like a weighty peasant sheet, Atem glanced at the two female servants who stood tall beside his bed.
"Good morning, my lord!" They both said in unison, "We are pleased to see you have risen!"
"Yeah, yeah." Atem grunted. "Let me sit myself up before you two start with the usual formalities."
The king pulled himself up, heavy, and rolled his shoulders, feeling one crack with a sore sensation. Must've been the one he slept on.
"Come this way, for your morning grooming session."
The two ladies waited for Atem as he fiddled with his hair and inspected the two servants. Their supple dark skin and silky brown hair shimmered in the light, eyes both like small emeralds stared intensely into the distance. Their linen clothing showed off their slight increase in wealth, with a low neckline and zero arm coverage.
Atem sighed and stood up. They followed close as he walked, barefooted, to the room where he would be groomed.
"Good morning, my lord!"
Everyone in the room spoke in unison. The room had walls of sun-baked mud bricks and limestone, featuring a pale-beige tone that held tiny carvings of the gods marked into them. His large tub to the left and his station for hair, makeup and scented oils to the right. By the entrance stood a short, stubby man with a beard and a tired face.
"Hello, Siamun."
"Hello, sir." Siamun bowed slightly and smiled kindly, "Are you ready for your bath and cleansing?"
"Yeah." Atem nodded, his proud posture hunching over a little as he stumbled to the tub and dipped his hand in the water - warm with a murky white tinge. He took off his nightwear and hopped into the tub, with his head relaxing against the border as he let out a loud, relaxed sigh.
"You have ten formal audiences today, as well as a few people wishing to prostrate in front of you to wish for a good coming season," Siamun trudged to the Pharaoh's side and looked to the base of the wall as to not make Atem feel awkward, "Also, it is almost your birthday. You seriously need to start considering picking a wife. Most Pharaohs your age would have had 5 by now! It is such a shame you do not have a sister, otherwise I would-"
"Siamun. No. You shall let me decide when I wish to get my first wife."
"You need an heir! What if you pass away? Or get hurt? What-"
"SIAMUN!" Atem boomed, "I command you to be silent!"
The room fell silent. The groomers all stared at the old man as he shuffled backwards anxiously. Atem spun around in the bath and glared at him, eyebrows furrowed close to his eyes and impairing his vision.
"If you so speak of this matter again I'll have you executed! You hear me?!"
"Yes, my king…"
The man's voice squeaked and quivered as Atem stood up from the bath and clicked his fingers until one of the dumbfounded servants brought him the sheet to dry himself off. He patted him down with the sheet until Atem deemed it enough. A linen kilt was being prepared as a male and female servant gently applied his usual scented oils and pastes onto his body, making sure to massage it in to Release all of the tension in Atem's knotty shoulders.
The servant pressed her fingers against a tender section behind his neck, smirking a little as Atem let out a quiet moan in satisfaction. The scent of coconut and jasmine filled Atem's senses while he let out soft moans and grumbles with each press of the servant's firm hands, rubbing against Atem's muscular figure and hesitating when his back muscles twitched from the sensitive spots being touched.
Jasmine and coconut filled the air. A man came over with his readied clothing and lifted the kilt over Atem's head so as to put it on without issue. The nubby texture of the fabric caressed Atem's skin as he adjusted the neckline of the shirt, as well as tightened the kilt base clinging to his legs. The lady in charge of jewelry took out his large, golden neckpiece and gently attached it, though being outshone by the arm, leg and stomach cuffs. She clipped on his earrings, slipped the rings onto his fingers and took out the kohl and dark liner to work on his makeup (which was swiftly completed. The groomer was getting faster by day).
His hair was done by the time he even realized it was happening. Even though it was traditional, he was uncomfortable with the idea of a human hair wig, so he refused to wear one even if it was in-customary.
The morning meal felt like nothing but a cold, empty formality. Atem sat at the end of the table, picking at his food with his hands while staring blankly at the tall walls. Shadow cast over his face from the many wall decorations, his lips closed so tight that he couldn't even find any words to say. His friend and usual eating partner, Mana, had recently started taking Spellcasting lessons. It wasn't too long ago that the table he was at would be full of life, with bubbly laughter filling the halls being the best good morning Atem could receive.
He waited for that laughter to start. To hear the jokes that kept him going. To eat his food without feeling the indescribable, crushing feeling of hopeless loneliness.
Atem sat by the long table, sparkling amethyst eyes begging for the sight of someone other than a servant.
To no avail.
The tall ceilings crushed him as he slid the plate of food away.
"Let us walk to the throne hall for your usual audiences."
Siamun tapped the Pharaoh on the shoulder and waited for him to stand up gracefully and start strolling to his seat at the large hall. Each day was the same. Atem's eyes drifted over the hall, his legs tightly crossed, trying to find something interesting to look at. The tall pillars lining close to the walls had hieroglyphs scrawled on them; limestone and sandstone surfaces appeared rough to touch although Atem never had the time to brush his hands over the wall to check. Behind the throne stood a tall obelisk, beside it were two opposite-facing diagonal laying walls that stretched out to the ceiling and cast a slight shadowed spotlight on the King himself.
A true pedestal for one who didn't deserve it.
Atem sank into his throne, closing his eyes lightly until he heard a loud voice from the hall.
"Hello, my lord! We have some officials here to discuss the current irrigation systems!"
"Send them in." Atem replied, kicking his foot against the base of the sparkling throne casually as the man sent in two ragged men stumbled in and dropped to their knees.
Their chapped and cracked lips pursed, "We are having a dangerously low crop yield! The people are starving!"
The other one clasped his hands together, squeezing his icky brown eyes shut, "We need a better solution! Our water is being depleted so quickly, we barely have any left to drink! What should we do?"
Light glimmered in Atem's amethyst eyes. The Pharaoh's hand brushed against the wide, golden neckline of his jewelry.
"How is it dry? Did you not measure the levels of the Nile correctly before choosing a planting date?"
"Oh, we did! We did!" One of the men cried, "But the Akhet season was… unprecedented! The Nile did not flood like it should have! Our water channels are empty, so our Peret is ruined!"
One of the other men cut in, slamming his hands down on the ground with a pitiful knocking noise, "And theshaduf we placed aline the channels have all broken! We only have one and it is the shortest one! The farmers are struggling to hand-water! I fear that this is punishment by the gods yet I know not what act caused this!"
Tutt… Tutt… Tutt.. Atem clicked his tongue as he tried to come up with an answer. He was supposed to be connected to the gods, yet he felt no disturbances. Was this what his nightmare was about? Will his land fall before he even got the chance to prove himself to his people? Atem drew in a sharp breath and rubbed his finger in circles against his linen kilt.
"I will investigate for you. However I don't have any solutions at this moment. I will make it my indefinite goal to assist you."
"Oh my lord! My Pharaoh! Please!" violent tears poured from one of the men's eyes as Atem tried to shoo them away, "Please be fast! We will have no grain to trade with others! I beg! I BEG!"
The shrieks echoed endlessly through the halls that made the Pharaoh's ears ache agonizingly. Two of the court's priests (Priest Shada and Priest Karim, the two of whom always stood close to Atem's throne) marched over and took the men by the arms, dragging them away without saying a word.
Atem's eyes graced the ground.
"I do not deserve this throne, I am sure my father would be able to sort that issue out…" he muttered under his breath, holding back the babyish tears that gathered at the base of his eyes. No need to smudge his makeup.
"NEXT!" One of the many servants in the area yelled, glancing at the person who rushed in.
Five men and women walked in, each wearing their share of tacky rage, and sat on the ground.
"These fine people have come to prostrate in your presence and pray."
The reader spoke. The five people bent their backs over and laid their hands against the floor in the usual position. One of them (the one in the center; nicely coordinated, that's what Atem thought) lifted themselves up after a moment and held their hands together.
"We wish to pray for many things. For the wellbeing of our families, for wealth and peace and, I pray in the name of Hathor and Isis, that our dear Ten-kheta's pregnancy is a success."
Atem stood up, getting down onto one knee. He reached his arms out as if he were trying to hug the man and smiled,"I am sure your prayers will be answered. The many gods of this world shall hear your plea!"
"Oh! I thank you, my lord!"
The center man stood up, followed by the rest. Atem picked himself up and slumped in his throne. A shaky sigh escaped his lips, his hands reaching and rubbing his temples as he tried to get rid of the ache that pounded in his head.
A new character rushed into the room, tripping over one of the servant's feet and rolling in recoil until he managed to stand himself up and drop to his knees in front of the Pharaoh's pedestal.
Mahad.
"Pharaoh Atem! A criminal that was apprehended has escaped!"
Atem clenched his fist. "What sort of criminal? A petty thief? An attacker?"
"Both!" Mahad yelled, "We kept him in special custody and everything! He stole multiple things off of your father's tomb and killed 8 people!"
Everyone in the hall except Atem gasped. Atem just stared at the man. This was normal. Everything was normal. He wouldn't have to stress about this, he-
"Pharaoh!" Siamun barked, "This is an important matter! Stop spacing out! Listen!"
"I am listening!! My father…" Atem's voice lowered into a hushed whisper, "What did this vermin steal from my father?!"
His voice raised with the last sentence. His foot stomped on the ground as he jumped out of his seat. Everyone stayed silent. The world seemed to sink into Atem's feet, the eerie silence carried forwards as the King's eyes flipped between each person in the room.
"WHAT DID HE STEAL?!" Atem ran to Mahad's side and grabbed his clothes' neckline. "ANSWER ME! WHY DID YOU LET HIM ESCAPE?!"
"Atem. Calm down." Mahad struggled to release the grip on his clothing, "I can explain. We will sort this out. Just breathe."
"Breathe?! You wish for me to breathe?! When my father's tomb has been desecrated and the criminal behind it is at large?!"
"Ate-"
Atem shoved Mahad away, his eyes darkening as he watched the man drop to the ground with no resistance.
The Pharaoh glared at the Vizer behind him, biting his lip so hard it bled down his chin, "SIAMUN! Cancel everything and don't even think about following me! Any of you! I want no servants of handmaid's or anyone IN. MY. SIGHT."
Atem snatched the Millennium Pendant that hung from his neck and threw it onto the ground before spinning around on his heels and running as far as he could before his legs would give out.
He finally felt the adrenaline from storming off fade away. Legs as strong as a mule's kicked the closest thing to him - a vase with a brownish black glaze and squiggly white lines as a pattern - causing it to fall to the ground with a loud, heavy sound. BONK!
"Ow!"
A small, squeaky voice came from inside. Atem grabbed the pot and slowly lifted it up, patting the base of the vessel until a small-bodied girl popped out and fell onto the sandy-yellow, brick floor. She pulled back her scruffy brown hair and gave Atem an awkward grin.
"B-boo?"
"Mana." Atem groaned. He dropped to the floor and sat cross-legged on the ground next to her, "What in the Holy name of Ra are you doing?"
"I was going to scare Mahad." She shrugged, "It's honest work, I'd say."
The girl brushed off her garments, lifting up her cloth visor on her head and pulled her golden necklace downwards so it stopped obstructing her breath.
"What's wrong with 'Tem 'Tem? You're frowning." Mana cupped her hands around Atem's cheeks and used her fingers to pull Atem's mouth into a half-assed smile.
The Pharaoh placed a hand against Mana's and gave her the nicest smile he could pull off, before letting his face drop."I just feel pathetic. I can't solve anyone's problems, I get pampered for no reason and some… criminal has desecrated my father's resting grounds… I want him back but I know I'd never be granted that privilege until the afterlife."
"I think you solve people's problems!" Mana grinned, "I know things have been hard, but-"
"Mana." Another voice called from behind. Mahad again, hidden slightly by one of the many pillars holding the outdoor ceiling. "We need to go for a mee- Oh! My king! Hello! I apologize, I'll be out of your hair in a moment."
"You should go." Atem slipped his hand down and brushed it against Mana's soft arm, smirking a little as red rushed to her face.
"Oh! Yes! Alright!" She jumped up and turned to Mahad, "Where am I going?"
"Everyone is gathering for a meeting to discuss…" Mahad paused. Atem glanced at the man and groaned
"To discuss the whole 'me storming out' thing? Or to discuss how to keep me safe from the deadly criminal you failed to protect me from?"
"Er..both." Mahad sighed and took Mana by the arm, "I apologize, My lord, if this seems rude."
"Bye 'Tem 'Tem!" Mana waved goodbye, skipping beside Mahad into the fuzzy distance.
The wind whispered into Atem's ears; standing close to a nearby pillar, Atem slumped back and looked at the sky with distant eyes. It was its normal blue hue, with wisps of clouds swirling through the air like spirits. A painted mix of lapis lazuli, baby blue and a hint of gold blended itself throughout the top, almost looking over Atem with a painful sense of untouchability. The sky itself felt like a mirror to himself; unreachable but with barely a discernible purpose. While he was connected to the gods, a little part of Atem knew that the sky itself was more linked than he ever would be, as it was closer to and had the true ability to seek counsel from the likes of Ra, Shu, Bat or Hathor. It was controlled, weaved by the efforts and hands of these many gods like strings of leaves tied into a small basket.
He twitched, a sudden whooshing sound echoed from somewhere. Atem looked around him; left; right; down; up. Two eyes met the sudden appearance of a gargantuan staff of golden light, a figure in the center being thrown through it like a ball.
"What in the writings of Thoth is that?" Atem gawked, finding his legs automatically moving his body closer. The whooshing stopped, replaced by a loud THUMP as the figure from the sky hit the ground and knocked over one of Atem's favorite garden pots.
The Pharaoh cautiously knelt down and inspected the thing closely. A boy? Or was it a girl? No… Atem rolled the person on their side. This was a boy, despite the person's feminine features, this fair-skinned purity-child was definitely a male. The king looked the person up and down, the anachronistic clothing of this person bothered him, though at the time Atem had no clue how this child's clothes were indeed made. There was no scratchy linen, just a mix of thick, shiny, black material and a softer, fiber fabric. One leg didn't seem to be covered in skin, instead having a metallic sheen like Atem's very own jewelry.
The boy's face, neck and arms variegated with scars, Atem couldn't help but stare at the ungodly injuries this person had smothering their body. Covering the bottom part of his face were some sort of mask, with two small cylindrical shapes on either side of his cheek and a little middle parting with a bizarre unknown symbol marked on it. Attached to their clothes were some manner of sheath, holding long bars of metal on them, and some sort of bag that Atem couldn't understand. The boy took a sharp breath in, turning over slightly in a half-conscious mug of confusion, his head limply rolled to his other shoulder as Atem lifted the boys back upwards.
His eyes were open, but only slightly. The Pharaoh could see the light purple coloring shining through the overcast shading.
This person was alive.
How did they survive such a fall?
Atem's mind pounded with thoughts, and, in the rush of the moment, picked the person up and placed him on his back. There weren't any servants around due to his order, nor any priests or guardians, so he should be safe to carry this person to a bed. Whichever bedroom was closer, he thought, while trying to get the boy a stable resting position on his back.
This wasn't work a Pharaoh should do. Atem shook his head, no, he had to do this. Some part of him begged to help this person out, without needing the help from anyone else to do so.
Stumbling into the indoor hall from the discreet side entrance, Atem used his hand to hold, to walk and stabilize himself as his feet tapped unrhythmically across the luke-warm halls. Luckily, it wasn't far to the guest sleeping quarters. Atem checked that all directions were clear, then slipped into the closest room and shut the door firmly closed (making sure to click the door lock in place).
Slump.
Rustle…
Whimper.
The boy quietly let out small moans and whines as he unconsciously laid in the bed Atem had set out. The person rolled to the side and buried their face in the cushion, weakly nudging the weird metal poles away from his back as he let out small snores.
Atem sat back.
He had let a random stranger into the Palace - a stranger that fell out of a magical golden beam in the sky - and had hidden him.
The Pharaoh took a deep breath in and yelled;
"Well, what in the name of Anubis am I supposed to do now?!"