The Past of the Present Future

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It had only been two days since Kisara’s lifeless body had been taken away. Mana didn’t know where the poor girl was buried, and she didn’t dare to talk to Set about it. His face was as neutral and set in stone as always, but something had changed. His eyes were glazed, not in sorrow or sadness, but in anger and hatred. His movements were brusque and his words were clipped, and he seemed more impatient than ever.  

Akunadin, his father, had been silent as usual - but now it seemed like he didn’t speak at all anymore. Karim, Shaadah and Aishizu were just completing the Court; Mana couldn’t actually remember when the Pharaoh had asked them for their advice. 

Set rolled up the papyri, dropping them to the floor, uncaring. A boyish servant quickly grabbed the papyri before it could hit the floor and carefully stored it, making sure he didn’t anger or annoy the High Priest in the process. 

“May I ask what this is all about, Great Pharaoh?” Shaadah finally spoke, though he had trouble keeping his voice calm. They had been listening all morning to reports and accounts concerning the military: how many soldiers, how many spears and maces, how soon an army could be mobilized… 

“You may ask,” Atemu answered, his hands curled around the armrests of his throne. “I will answer you.” 

The Priest nodded, the fabric of his robe slightly creased. He moved a little forward to watch his Pharaoh speak. 

“The Syrian delegates have left soon after,” Atemu said, leaving out “the death of the girl”.  

“They were going to take this news with them, and I will not allow anyone to mock the grandeur of Khemet.” 

Shaadah visibly paled, and Aishizu looked up, her Tauk glowing for a brief moment.  

“You had them killed?” she all but cried out, startling the others. 

“No message will reach their homeland, no bodies will wash ashore,” Atemu said dryly, humoring Aishizu when he saw the Priestess getting upset. “Do tell me if your Tauk is able to see their bodies float when they are weighed down by rock and stone?” 

She shook her head, clasping her hands together. “It…it doesn’t show me anything, Great Pharaoh.” 

Atemu raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by that? You are not able to use it anymore?” 

“I…I can’t,” she whispered, wringing her hands. “It’s been like this for a while, Great Pharaoh. I can barely catch a glimpse, and it’s more difficult than ever to interpret the images.” 

“What have you been able to see?” Atemu demanded, standing up from his Throne. Akunadin and Set both looked at Aishizu, curiosity and pity mixed on their faces.  

The Priestess licked her lips before answering, anxiety audible in her voice. 

“I have seen nothing but darkness, disturbing images of blood and despair,” she spoke, averting her head as Atemu walked towards her. “Torture, fire…a disturbing future that no one wants to be a part of…” 

“Is there a war coming?” Karim asked, keeping his voice low. Mana couldn’t believe it. Pharaoh Akunamukanon had worked so hard to bring this nation to peace, to have good alliances and relations with their neighbor countries, and his son…his son was plunging Khemet into an abyss of darkness, corrupted by his Item or not - this had to stop. If the two Syrian delegates were truly dead, Syria would demand an explanation, and if they weren’t satisfied with the answer…wars had been started for less, and Khemet was a great target for plundering and looting. 

“Interesting,” was all that Atemu said, standing still. He pretended to think for a moment, then smiled and nodded to Aishizu. “We will have to work very hard in the coming days. I have no doubt some…things will escalate, and I really do not want those images Aishizu saw to become true.”  

The mad glint in his eye belied his words, just as much as his voice; there wasn’t a single shred of fear or worry in it. He’s really going to start a war, and used poor Kisara as a pawn on a chessboard. Mana refrained from growling. Her Master used to point out that she more than once failed to see the bigger picture, but this time she saw it, as clearly as if it was imprinted on her retinas. He hadn’t killed Kisara to avoid any political conflict, but to start one. He was going to bring Khemet to its demise. …there are certain events that are so drastic, so encompassing, that they influence the Great Timeline after all. Epidemics, wars, earthquakes… She shivered. 

“Court dismissed,” Atemu’s voice suddenly rang out and she startled again. It dawned to her that she had been daydreaming and apparently missed out on more information, as Aishizu seemed to have calmed down and looked in front of her, composed as always.  

“Aishizu,” she latched onto the older woman, “Aishizu, wait!” 

She turned around. “Yes, Mana?” 

“Was that…was that all you saw?” 

“Wasn’t it enough?” she asked, surprisingly bitter. “I’ve always been able to see several possible futures, and the glimpses I caught were clear and peaceful - still difficult to determine their meanings, but there was no blood, no despair, no darkness! Since the…death of Kisara I haven’t been able to see any glimpse at all. As if there’s no future at all.” 

Mana fell silent. She tried to understand Aishizu’s words, comparing them to what the other strange girl had said, about the timelines, about how certain events were so drastic that they could even set off the Great Timeline. She wanted to laugh, the notion too crazy for words, and she looked over her shoulder to where Atemu was, catching him pushing a servant rather brusquely out of his way who was about to offer him some refreshments. The tray and goblets fell to the floor, clattering. Aishizu hissed, the sounds hurting her ears.  

“I need to go lie down,” she said, voice wavering.  

“Go rest,” Mana urged her, knowing that everything had been said. There was nothing more she could find in Atemu’s favor, no matter how frantically she’d searched for that one little thing, the tiniest hint of redemption. The Sennen Puzzle had corrupted him, twisted the goodness in his heart to evil in his mind, uncaring, unfazed, uninterested. Nothing, but absolutely nothing was left of the young man she once knew, the boy she thought she knew…and she realized that she couldn’t bring him back, not now, not ever. Khemet was at the brink of an all-out war because of his actions, he had estranged his Court, alienated his High Priest and everyone around him.  

Mana expected to be called after, but nothing was said and she left the Throne Room, her hands clenching at the fabric of her dress. The hooded cloak weighed heavy on her shoulders; it hadn’t protected her from the cold this time either. Cold, silent darkness…it seemed to surround Atemu, to envelop him further each passing day. Not only had his behavior started to reflect his personality, but also the people around him were beginning to get affected. Mana had heard about riots in the city, and even closer, small skirmishes between the Palace’s personnel.  

People reacted more violently and aggravated to something small - a misunderstanding or just simply bad luck - while the servants used to solve their own problems with resignation, the origin of the problem often not worth getting worked up over. 

The lunches with the Pharaoh and all his Priests together were also abandoned, though Mana didn’t have any illusion of the tension that would rise if everyone was together at the table. The atmosphere had already been ruined, the former loyal bonds broken beyond repair. As she hurried through the large hallway, Mana wondered if Set would be able to kill his cousin and take his Throne, his Puzzle and all his power for himself - or would he be corrupted by the Item as well? Maybe he was already corrupted by the Rod, but had he been able to withstand its influence?  

“It’s the Puzzle,” her own voice whispered into her ear, and the Priestess flinched. Next to her was Mana, looking like an ordinary servant to anyone else, but bearing the same face as the Priestess. She was thankful that almost no one at the Palace had enough knowledge about heka anymore to pick up on the girl’s strong signature; that would bring more questions than the Priestess possibly could answer. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” she said, honestly. “We need to talk.” 

“I know a little of what happened. Kisara, right?” 

“How…?” 

“It’s all right. I know how this era is supposed to be, and everything has gone wrong so far. The course of events is throwing the Great Timeline off.” 

“Please,” the Priestess whispered. “Let’s go to my room.” 

Mana nodded, bowing and taking a little distance from the other woman. Not many would think strange things of seeing the Priestess being so close with a servant, but it would be frowned upon nonetheless. Servants were treated fairly well, but not familiarly. Carrying some blankets and other linen in her arms, Mana followed her alternate self to her room, the large hallway seemingly unending. She heaved a soft sigh. It had taken her some time to replenish her heka - fortunately, not much time appeared to have passed here. She barely recognized this Khemet, wondering not for the first or for the last time how it could ever be possible that only one man could make such a difference in the course of history, influencing the Great Timeline itself. And to think it was Atemu… 

Mana didn’t allow herself enough time to ponder. There was work to be done, and if she wanted to restore the timeline in the first place, she had to take this decision and work together with the Mana of this time, otherwise the world was doomed. 

The Priestess walked in front of her, opening the door as she soon as she reached it, her movements frantic. She was upset and all but started to cry when she was in her room. Mana wanted to take pity on herself and already reached for the Priestess - but decided against it the last second, and closed the door behind her. 

“It just can’t be like this,” the Priestess said. “It’s nothing like I could’ve ever imagined… have you seen him like this before?” 

“Not like this,” Mana shook her head, sending chestnut bangs flying. “I’ve seen a lot of different worlds, and not ever…have I seen him like this.” 

“Is it the Item?”

She shook her head again. “Not necessarily…not only the Item. More events have led up to this, and…” 

“Was it Master leaving?” 

“Mana,” she said, tasting her own name on her tongue, “we don’t have much time. If war breaks out before we’re able to repair the timeline, all is lost.” 

The Priestess rubbed at her eyes, a bizarre expression of grief and anger on her face. “If war breaks out, this world is doomed anyway.” 

“It’s not like that. We can prevent the war, prevent bloodshed and the downfall of this nation if we act fast…but I need your help, Mana.” 

“I’m…I’m not going to kill him.” 

Mana looked at the Priestess, trying to remain calm and not let the pity for the woman prevail. She had to do this, otherwise this world would be destroyed. She had the opportunity to restore the timeline, allowing it to be absorbed in the Great Timeline, and save Khemet, returning it to its previous glory.  

“I will.” 

“Wh…what?” 

“I will.” Mana looked at herself, the Priestess covered by her robes, dabbing with a little piece of cloth at her tear-streaked cheeks.  

“It can’t end like this,” she murmured. “The Pharaoh…Atemu…” 

“There’s no more hope for him or for Khemet, the whole world, if we stand around here any longer and allow the darkness to do its work and to throw everything off balance even more,” Mana said. She swallowed. “I’m not exactly happy with this either…!” 

The Priestess threw the piece of cloth at the floor. She’d seen and heard enough. If there really was no other option…the nation was a small step away from an all-out war, and Atemu from being completely absorbed by the evil shadows surrounding him… 

“What do I need to do?” 

Mana squelched the rest of her pity and remorse. This world needed to be saved, nothing else. She would be saved in the end as well - she and all her incarnations, if she did this just right. The Gods smiled upon her, urging her on to do her work, because even they couldn’t stop the course the events had taken, and they wouldn’t be served if the nation was at war and suffered too many casualties. They would be forgotten and abandoned, their shrines destroyed and their temples ruined, all of the darkness in one man.  


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Mana had only time to take a brief look at the mirror as she heard the knock on the door. Her low-cut dress was nicely stressing her figure, and she tied the folds of the fabric just below her breasts, boosting them up a little. She accentuated her cleavage a little more by wearing one of the golden necklaces he’d given her - back in the time he had been gallant, kind and attentive…when he loved her for who she was, and not for her body. She didn’t know whether to detest herself or revel in the fact that he was coming to see her. Tangling her fingers in her hair, Mana tried to refrain from crying.  

Even now, even at this very moment, as she had witnessed his crimes herself, she was still thinking of how she could pleasure him, how his hands felt on her body. No matter how little she meant to him, how it was only physical contact and nothing more, she longed to feel him, to hold him, and to kiss him. Maybe, just maybe, not all hope was lost. If he came to see her, he still was interested in her, right? Maybe… 

The doors were opened and two guards entered the room before Atemu followed them. Mana turned away from the mirror, quickly looking through her room to check if she really had tidied up everything; after all, she’d held onto her Master’s documents and papers, and it wouldn’t do the situation much good if Atemu were to find them. 

He dismissed the guards, not even taking one look at his Priestess. “What is it that you had to send me that urgent message for?” 

“It…it has to do with what happened in the Throne Room,” Mana said, taking a step towards him. She waited until the guards had left the room before she reached for him, touching his elbow.  

“Hm? What do you mean?” 

“Aishizu…and her ability with the Tauk.” She searched for words. “How she panicked in the Throne Room.” 

“Such behavior certainly was not fitting for someone of her position,” Atemu said, his voice taking on a bored tone.  

“She predicted darkness and despair, Pha…Atemu.” 

Now he looked at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. For some reason he liked hearing her speak his name, but she couldn’t figure out why. Was it… a faint glimmer of hope… because deep down he cares for me? She knew what fate was awaiting him, and she knew she was lending it a little hand. Hesitating, she took another step closer, feeling nervous. She couldn’t go through with this. She couldn’t….Mana mustered up a smile, albeit a shaky one. 

“It has to mean something,” she said. “Darkness and despair, Atemu. Your father worked so hard to bring peace to this nation, to make Khemet to a safe haven for everyone, embracing different cultures…” 

“My father is dead,” Atemu interrupted her. “He has been dead for years now, and I have followed long enough in his footsteps. It is time that I took the path that was laid out for me. I have been ignoring my true calling for far too long.” 

“T-true calling?” She forced herself to come closer, feeling her heart plunge when he looked away from her again, even turning a little. Her hand was still on his elbow, and her fingers slipped from his skin. Atemu was staring out the window, the curtains billowing in the afternoon wind. She had especially chosen for this room because of the large window; not only was it a source of light during the day, it also offered a spectacular view of the gardens.  

She often had stood in front of the window, pondering about things - she couldn’t recall the last time when she had purely enjoyed the view.  

“You were talking about your true calling,” she said as she moved closer to him again, coming to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. She had never done this before; it had always been Atemu who took the initiative. He still didn’t look at her, as if he couldn’t care less for her touch. Was it too late?  

“My true calling,” he repeated. “You will learn more about it soon enough, Mana. I am very busy at this moment…learning this calling on my own, studying the paths I have to take, preparing for what is about to come.” War. 

She swallowed, tasting bile rising up in her throat.  

“I know you’re very busy. I appreciate it that you came to see me so soon,” she whispered in his ear, moving so close that her breasts bumped into his back. That caught at least his attention, and he craned his neck to look at her. 

“You are very special, Mana, you know that,” he said. Her smile was dazzling brilliant. I want to believe it. He says so himself.  

“Yes, I know,” the words rolled over her lips by themselves. She leaned up to capture his lips and rejoiced when he returned the kiss, but only that - he didn’t wrap his arms around her, didn’t make another move. It was frustrating; he’d never hesitated or dallied before. She was here, all but offering him every chance and opportunity, and this time, the most important time, he was showing barely any interest. She drew out the kiss as long as possible, quickly latching onto his lips again after she took a deep breath. She had to appear not too eager, not too desperate - she only had to comfort him, make him feel at ease. Mana moved her hand up, towards his neck. It wasn’t that difficult to notice that he was tense; she broke up the kiss again, showing him a warm smile.  

“You’re very special too,” she said, and she meant it. Atemu tilted his head, almost curiously.  

“How long have we been together?” 

“As long as I can remember,” she answered, for that was the simple truth to her. Being brought to the Royal Palace by her parents who she had never seen again, she was raised and educated here - along with Atemu and Mahaado, until he was accepted into Priesthood.

Finally, his hands rested on her hips. Despite aging, she hadn’t grown much in height, just like Atemu. They were at equal eye level, and she stared right at his dark red eyes, narrow eyes, empty eyes. There was no love, no compassion, no kindness in those shallow, hollow windows of his soul.  

Suppressing a shiver, she kissed him again, heaving a soft sigh as she felt his hand traveling up her body, towards her breast. Her hands fumbled close to his neck, where the fastenings of his cloak were. Without a sound, she undid the fastenings and gathered the fabric, dropping it over a stool next to her. She placed her hands back on his chest, fingers trailing the cord of the Sennen Puzzle, waiting for him to put his hand over her. This time she wasn’t disappointed; Atemu put his hand over hers, his fingers touching the cord. He was going to take it off himself, not allowing anyone else to come close to it; and that was the moment she had been waiting for. 

He turned around, slipping the cord over his head, cupping the Item with his other hand to place it upon the stool where his cloak already was put upon. The Priestess held her breath as she stepped away from him as silently as she could, while the other Mana took her place. Atemu was standing with his back to her, carefully tucking the Item in the folds of his cloak. It was almost endearing if it wasn’t for the serious nature of the situation; she never had seen him this dependant on his Item. She knew the history of the Items, a history she couldn’t divulge if she didn’t want this timeline to be even worse off. It had to happen now…now or never, and if it never happened, she would condemn this world to total destruction. Atemu moved his hands up, searching for the clasps of the broad, golden collar around his neck. 

“Let me help you.” 

With a quick snap, she unfastened the collar and took the jewelry away, putting it on the stool as well. He turned around, eyes briefly darting over her, lingering around her chest area. Mana was similarly dressed as the other Mana of course, and she felt extremely self-conscious. She had worn short skirts and rather revealing dresses before, young as she was, but her taste in clothing had developed into a more conservative look over time. Standing in front of him, to be exposed completely if only he undid the knot just below her breasts…it made her breath quicken. With one tug, he could undress her, the fabric pooling around her ankles in one whim. 

She breathed a little nervously as he moved his hand, but he didn’t touch the knot. His fingers traced the golden necklace, its intricate design resembling falling leaves. It contrasted with her tan skin, the lapis lazuli and gemstones accentuating her collar bones. It was a small fortune resting around her neck, and he had given it to her. No, not to me. The other Mana. The Mana of this time, who is a Priestess and heartbroken.    

He kissed her, and her world seemed to shatter. It was a small kiss, just a kiss, but it was a kiss. All her life, she had wanted to kiss him. She had even prayed for it - prayed that he would look her way, prayed that the smile he send her meant just more than a smile. Atemu never had made her feel like a servant or an apprentice, he had always been her friend and her support. He had listened to her, laughed with her, joked around with her by hiding in large vases, tricking especially Mahaado into searching for them. He shared her sadness as she was wondering about where her parents were or why they abandoned her; he listened stoically to her temper tantrums if something went wrong and encouraged her when she tried to conjure a particularly difficult spell.  

This kiss…this was the kiss she longed for. She knew what awaited Atemu in every incarnation and in every reality, and she knew he wasn’t destined to become her lover. They would never kiss, never touch, never hold each other like that, and it had taken her ages to realize it and accept it. She had fantasized about a kiss from her best friend but had left it at that, knowing that the social gap between them was too big. He was a Pharaoh, a God, and she was just an apprentice, on her way to become a magician, maybe a Priestess. No matter their friendship, it just wouldn’t happen. Now she had the chance to touch and brush his lips…for the first, and for the last, time in her life. Mana had imagined it would be sweet, and gentle, something to enjoy - certainly not hard, rushed, impersonal, bored. He wasn’t feeling a thing for her; she was nothing but a convenient body, at his disposal whenever he wanted to satisfy his desires. She, just like her counterpart, refused to believe it; she simply couldn’t believe it. This was Atemu, the Pharaoh of Khemet, who had plucked plums for her in the garden. It just…wasn’t right. 

She wanted to cry, but she found she couldn’t. Her hand was moving towards her back, slipping between the folds of her dress. Her lips were still latched onto his and she keened low in her throat as he broke up the kiss, only to gasp when he attacked her neck. Tilting her head in response, exposing more skin, she used the swaying movement of her body to slip a magical dagger from the folds of her robe, wrapping her fingers around the handle. It burned, deep inside, the knowledge of what she was about to do and the sensations of the kisses, his ministrations, the responses of her body.  

It was a life she was going to take, no matter how corrupted he had become. It wasn’t his fault. That damned Item. Damned Fate! His breath was hot against her neck as he continued to kiss and lick the skin, sending shivers down her spine. She almost lost her grip on the dagger’s handle and she whimpered. She had longed to be in his arms. All these times, all these alternate realities, she had wanted nothing but to be in his arms, if only for a moment. One hand was on her hip, his other hand moved up towards her breast, fingers darting over the thin fabric, creeping towards the knot. 

“Mana,” he breathed, and his fingers plucked at the knot that held up her dress. She had taken great care in wrapping the fabric so she could hide the dagger from view, tying it exactly so that it would stress the curves of her body, ending up in front, just below her breasts to give them a little boost…she was attractive, pretty even, in that dress with the beautiful golden necklace, maybe even worthy of a Queen…but this wasn’t her Pharaoh. This was another man, some kind of monster, unlike the Atemu she knew and had known. He had killed, he was going to wage war…and all because of an anomaly in time. Master. She understood at that very moment how Mahaado must’ve felt and she almost choked, biting back a sob. 

“Mana,” he repeated, breathing more erratic, and he was about to take another breath when she struck. The magic dagger pierced his chest, sharp blade cutting through flesh and muscle, finding its way to his heart. Atemu’s lustful whisper turned into a stunned gasp, his eyes growing wide as the realization of pain settled in.  

“M-Mana…” 

Tears were running over her cheeks, but she didn’t sense them. Her vision was blurred from the tears, but his expression was painfully sharp to see, imprinting on her mind. Disbelief, pain, shock…she parted her lips to scream his name, but she couldn’t find her voice, just as she couldn’t find the strength to grab his shenti, to keep him upright. Instead, she let him go, her heart breaking, shattering into a million piedces as his questioning, confused eyes remained focused on her face as death settled in.  

He was dead before his body hit the floor, eyes glazing over during his fall, lips parted in surprise. Only a small amount of blood was visible on his chest, coloring his shenti a dark red. The magic dagger protruded from his body, blade covered in blood. A yellowish blue light started to shine, and Mana forced herself to concentrate, sobbing out loud a few times before she knelt next to the lifeless Pharaoh and grabbed the handle of the dagger to pull it out. 

“Forgive me,” was all that she said, and tried to avoid a fresh wave of tears. His soul was already escaping; there was no time for tears and sorry goodbyes. Mana turned around on her knees and grabbed the Sennen Puzzle from the stool. Quickly, she cast the spell to trap Atemu’s soul and guided it into the Puzzle, yelping out in surprise as it shattered once she was finished. Gods!  

Surrounded by the many pieces of the Puzzle, she leaned forward, supporting herself as she was kneeling, rocking back and forth as the tears streamed. Her mind replayed the events again and again, and she knew the confused, hurt look in his eyes as he died would haunt her for the rest of her life. Realizing she was still holding the dagger, she dropped it to the floor as if she burned herself. Her fingers felt cramped, her body tense and she hurt all over. Huddling into herself, it was hard to regain control over her breathing again. Her cheeks were wet, and tears dripped on her beautiful dress, blotting the fabric.  

“You…you did it,” the Priestess was close to her, and Mana hadn’t noticed that she’d approached her. “He…he’s dead.” 

“I…” She couldn’t speak. Voice hitching, she started to bawl. The dark soul already present in the Puzzle was scattered along with it, along with Atemu’s soul, scattered on a plane of existence almost no one was aware of. Three millennia would await them in which he would forget, and the darkness would brood to strike at him as soon as it would get the chance. When a boy, engrossed in games and puzzles, would piece it together and inherit the Pharaoh’s soul and become friends with him, searching for his lost memories. 

Mana composed herself, using a corner of the dress to rub at her face. The Priestess had put a hand on her shoulder as a way to comfort her, but the other woman bore the same heartbroken, sad and grievous look on her face. Mana leaned forward and closed Atemu’s eyes, her touch as gentle as possible. In death, he looked like the Atemu she knew and loved - his face serene, lips slightly parted, the man who had followed justice and peace for so long.  

“What…what now?” The Pharaoh is dead. He’s dead! Atemu… 

The Priestess pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes to keep from crying. Her whole body trembled, and she avoided looking at Atemu on the floor. Mana got back up on her feet, using the stool as a support. She wasn’t going to tell her namesake about Mahaado and how he would kill his counterpart. The Mahaado of this time would pay dearly for his decision to run away from the Palace, afraid of dying - but he would die, and he would still vow the same oath as he had always done. His soul would be the Pharaoh’s eternal servant, and there was nothing, not even the Great Timeline itself, that changed that. 

“Atemu is safe now, Khemet is safe. Set will ascend to the Throne.” The other Priests were supposed to die as well in their fight against the darkness, but their fate wasn’t a great influence on the timeline, unlike Atemu’s.  

“There won’t be a war,” Mana said and the Priestess nodded, relieved. “Your soul will be bound to your kaa, just like Mahaado’s.” 

“Does that mean I have to die now too?” 

“No, not now,” Mana shook her head. “Don’t be afraid. When your time is there, you won’t notice a thing…and remember, you will see your Pharaoh again, though he will not remember you.” 

“I’ll see him again?” the Priestess asked hopefully.  

“Yes, don’t worry,” Mana said. “No one will connect you to his death either - leave everything as it is and call for the guards. They’ll see the shattered Puzzle and will think that he died from the influence of the Item.” 

“What about the Puzzle…?” 

“See to it that the pieces are collected and put into a box. A golden rectangular box. As you’ll collect the pieces, you’ll know what text to put on the box. Make sure that it’ll be interred with him. It will be discovered three millennia from now.” 

“Unbelievable,” the Priestess said. “By the Gods…what have we both done?” 

“We have saved this world,” Mana said, but she didn’t sound victorious or joyous at all. The world was saved, which meant that it would be absorbed by the Great Timeline, dissolving into the other timelines. They had corrected a flaw, a mistake…but this world wouldn’t go under, it would live. The Puzzle would be discovered by Mutou Sugoroku, as the Ring would end up in the hands of Bakura Ryou, and then the fate of the world would be again at stake. But then, the Pharaoh would be there to save it, instead of destroy it.  

Mana felt that there wasn’t much time left. Her heka was depleting again, and she needed to instruct the Priestess. In short sentences, she instructed the woman to secure the Ceremonial Tablets from Atemu’s youth, and to go search for a young man from a tribe called Ishtar, living outside the city walls.  

The Priestess didn’t ask questions anymore. She felt herself calming down, reconciliation settling into her very soul. Maybe I just knew all along that this would happen. Something had felt so terribly wrong for so long now. Atemu was at rest, and memories of him would fade, leaving only the mementos from his youth instead of his harsh actions in his adult years. In a way, she felt grateful - she could barely live with the memories she had of him now, let alone a whole nation. He had been kind and loving…one day. And one day, he would be kind and loving again - and if he didn’t remember her, so be it. She could always try again, couldn’t she? 

“The portal,” Mana whispered. “I have to go now.” 

The Priestess nodded, clasping her hands together. Mana mimicked the movement.  

“Thank you.” 

“Thank you, too…” 

“Go,” the Priestess urged her namesake. “Go with the grace of the Gods.” 

Mana showed a small smile, knowing that she meant well. The Priestess was going to face a difficult time as it was, and it wouldn’t take long for her to find consolation with her inner kaa. Black Magician Girl. Her smile faded into a sad grimace, though the other Mana couldn’t see it anymore. They both weren’t girls anymore; they’d been through too much to be girls any longer. The portal closed around her, and Mana was taken away from the world of Khemet for good. It was safe now. As she was pulled back to the reality she came from, fresh tears spilled from her eyes. No matter that the whole world was a little safer; she couldn’t forget the look in his eyes. She had received her first kiss from him, and it had been heaven and hell at the same time. A thousand worlds caught in one kiss, and she had destroyed it. 
 

End of this timeline  

 

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Chapter 10 | Chapter 12