"Good morning, my lord!"

Another normal day. Atem sat upright, rolling his shoulders and unsteadily standing up. The two ladies, in a perfectes unison, turned around and spoke again.

"Come this way, for your morning grooming session."

It was the same.

Every

Single

Day.

The King's eyes squeezed shut, the makeup artist misplaced the liner, it quickly coating his eye. The artist panicked.

"Oh my! I am so sorry, my lord!"

Atem slammed his hand against the table surface, he barked, "HOW DARE YOU DEFI-"

His voice trailed off, the room of personal groomers stared, shocked at the king as he tried to breathe his way into calming down.

"It… It is alright."

The makeup boy didn't respond, little frightened quivers and whimpers being the only things he said as he scrambled to grab the closest rag, dabbing away the kohl that contaminated Atem's dark eyes, urgently.

"My king, you have been very tense recently. Is there a disturbance?"

Siamun still stood by the borders of Atem's bath. His wrinkles had gotten worse recently, Atem could see the light of the sun bouncing off of the bumps and imperfections that stained the old man's face; light spots tainting the man's tan skin always bothered Atem, he had the innate urge to try and scratch them off.

"A disturbance?" Atem spat, he reached his arms out so that the jewelry applier could slide on his armlets.

'My father's grave was ransacked. My people's fields are dry! And I cannot do anything to save them.' is what Atem had considered saying. Instead, with the coolest attitude he could muster, he grinned,

"Oh, no. Everything is dandy."

"I see. Let us go, you can eat your meal. Afterwards, you have a…"

The Pharaoh' s focus on the man meandered. There were more important matters to think of, like the young man who was currently sleeping in the main luxury guest quarters, completely unsupervised. Atem had moved all of the boys possessions, so that they wouldn't disturb his rest, and whenever he had a break the king made sure that the person wasn't too dehydrated.

Concerned for this boy's health, Atem had nothing else he could think of. Even as the man by his feet in the throne room begged and prayed for him to fix the detrimental droughts, Atem couldn't help but be curious about the strange, mysterious boy who had fallen out of the sky not but 5 dawns prior.

The throne, which held Atem in place as he half-caringly listened to the recent blight on the crop yield, sparkled in the sunny light. The warmth of the sun made Atem's skin prickle, despite putting up with these heats it was difficult to cope when they were having a record breaking heatwave. His focus softened, the world blurring into a hazy mess. Atem felt the cusps of slumber gently taking its grasp on him, like thick tendrils of warmth wrapping around him. His head dipped, maybe just a few moments of rest… A few moments to sleep while the man drones on…

Atem slumped in the throne.

"Atem?" The smooth, stern voice of priest Karim came into Atem's earshot, "You're spacing out again."

"Hm?" Atem's eyelashes fluttered, trying to keep his eyes open and alert was difficult, as the King never had to think about more than one thing. "I… I'm fine. May I be excused?"

"I mean, of course, it is your decision, my king." The man dipped his head in respect, left foot forward, "But these people came to bask in your presence, you cannot just-"

"Karim. Please. I must go." Atem stood up, firmly stomping on the ground in order to establish a dominance in the hall, and confidently walked to the main hallway, which was lined with distant guest rooms that were never filled.

The King, pulling his cloak away from his sides, stepped into the first room with an unsure look, closing the door swiftly behind him and latching it shut. His eyelids still throbbed, heartbeat thumping behind his eyeballs, begging for rest. How long had it been, since his father's death, that he had a full night of sleep? Tired crimson eyes looked at the boy, tucked up in bed.

The sky-fallen boy laid, uncomfortably propped up against the softest cushion Atem could dig out without sacrificing his own comfort - it had the finest straw tucked inside the cloth sack, Atem spent ages trying to find the right kind. His legs slightly elevated like was common for commoner bed's, the boy was rested in the ordinary leather platform type rather than the fancy stone lined bed Atem was so used to curling up in every night.

The boy rolled to one side, the scars on his forehead had somehow opened up and started trickling streams of dark blood. Atem quickly found the closest thing to wipe it away, one of the boy's articles of clothing that the King had to forcefully remove due to it overheating him.

Occasionally, this stranger would cry or whimper in his slumber. Atem would sometimes watch as the young man thrashed around on the bed, panic draining the colour out of his already sickly pale face. Even a child as oblivious as Atem could see that this person was blighted with endless torturous nightmares.

"Atem? May I enter? I saw you come in here and I am worried about how you are coping with your father's sudden passing."

The gruff voice of Siamun snuck up and echoed through the wooden cracks in the door.

"I promised to look after you like my own flesh and blood, yet you never talk to me like so. Please, we need to get on the same level so I can help you. I heard you almost fell asleep again, are you not resting? The gods will be very angry at you!"

The person, laying on the bed with fists clenched, whimpered. He let out a soft cry, body curling up on itself into a fetal position.

"My lord? Are you crying? I am so sorry if me or anyone else in the court has offended you recently, we shall take punishment however it shall come!"

"No, Siamun, I do not want to punish you."

He had kept the secret of this person for too long.

It hadn't been the first time Atem dragged a lost, injured soul into the Palace. The first, if he recalled, was a young girl with the most gorgeous silver eyes. He remembered braiding her pale white hair and helping her recover from her injuries, finally letting her out once she had truly recovered.

He had done the same with a mother and her baby boy, both darker skinned than Atem and both extremely weak from the steaming hot sun. The baby eventually passed away in Atem's arms, the mother following suit as soon as her already fragile heart split in two.

Atem unlatched the door and sat down next to the sleeping person, hair stringy and messy as he tried to straighten himself up.

"Atem, I- Oh. Who is-"

"This boy. I found him falling out of the sky from a heavenly light." Atem gestured to the person, "The light, it radiated the energy of the Millennium Pendant, as if they were the same. I believe he is from the gods."

"My lord, you know what happened last time you tried to-"

"But this is different! I promise!!" Atem raised his voice, somewhere in his mind he knew that this person wouldn't wake up, just like the many that came before him. But this person, something about him was different. Was it the way he was dressed, clad in a mysterious black material Atem had never seen before? Or was it the way he survived such a fall, from the heavens themselves, with nary a scratch?

"I am not allowed to argue."

The old man finally sighed. He fiddled with the ends of his beard, wrinkled hands wrapping the strands around his finger and releasing in an endless motion.

"But last time you were so heartbroken. If something happens to this boy, will you be alright?"

"I swear, on my life and the life of Pharaoh's to come." Atem hit his chest a few times with his fist on the opposite side. A pledge.

Never again.

The old man would eventually agree to help look after the boy, on the condition that if the person were to die, Atem wouldn't let it get in the way of ruling his lands.

Unsurely, Atem agreed. His eyes glanced across the floor, reflections from the squeaky clean floor distorting his face into a mishmash of colour.

"Would you like me to find youn' Mana for you?" Siamun's face softened to a gentle smile, "She can sit with you while you help this person out."

"No. She must be so busy." Atem shook his head, readjusting the golden necklace that became askew from the motion. "I need some time alone."

"Alright. Whatever you wish, my Pharaoh." The old man bowed softly, "If you need anything, I will be here right away."

"Thank you, Siamun."

Atem waited for the man to leave, latching the door shut behind him. Finally, some peace and quiet. He sat down next to the boy on the closest carved stool he could kick over with his foot, resting his hand against the other's forehead to get a gist of how overheated this person was. Gently, the king rested a bucket of iced water next to the boy and soaked a call cloth in it, placing the cloth against the other's forehead and chuckling a little at their soothed reaction.

It must have been such a relief.

Atem rested his head in his hands, closing his eyes.

From the mists of memory, his mind replayed the images of him crying his eyes out in the hall, a shaky hand reaching out as the rest of the court inspected the freshly killed body of his father. A great man, slain. Atem wasn't ready to be a king, he never was. Atem's mind melted, the images becoming more and more nonsensical.

A boy? No… It wasn't just any boy, this was a vision of the boy sitting next to him. He looked out into an unfamiliar world, filled with tall, silly looking structures made of endless forms of glass, while holding hands with another man. Atem fidgeted, why was he seeing this? Was his mind going amuck?

The king forced his eyes open, realizing that the boy had reached put and grabbed Atem's hand. Such a firm, tight grip. Nails, somehow stained black, dug into Atem's skin, keeping him close.

The boy's eyes opened, hand's grip squeezing harder. Atem jumped, quickly removing the cloth from the person's head and smiling like the sun.

"Jhsioakk? Jsjbbbjjosl? Mm. Kshhu. Hhie… Hsookla…." The person spouted nonsense. He, with his other hand, weakly tapped a strange black box that was latched into his neck. With a loud BEEP! from the box, the boy finally spoke properly.

"Where… Am I?"