The Lost Pharaoh

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by El Cartel, Oct 15, 2011.

  1. [​IMG]

    A One x One Between the beautiful morninggift
    & the handsome
    Bugs Bunnyl.

    Starring Richard Armitage as Dorian Barnes
    & this guy as Akhenaten.


    Mr Dorian Barnes, archaeologist by profession and self-proclaimed skeptic, would not have come to the conclusion that the spells contained in the tombs of the Egyptian pharaoh's found in the Valley of the Kings were in anything other than nonsense. He was a man of science, so it seemed unfathomable to him that anyone would believe in the things these king's long past had believed in.

    However, it was 1828 and the British archaeologist was a young man (only just 25) who was open to change (though not altogether welcoming). So when his world turned black and suddenly he found himself suddenly seized by three burly men who appeared to be dressed in nothing but skirts and yelling at him in a completely foreign language, he had to conclude that perhaps the hieroglyphs in that tomb weren't just the ramblings of a lost society - morninggift






     
  2. Mr Dorian Barnes, archaeologist by profession and self-proclaimed skeptic, would not have come to the conclusion that the spells contained in the tombs of the Egyptian pharaoh's found in the Valley of the Kings were in anything other than nonsense. He was a man of science, so it seemed unfathomable to him that anyone would believe in the things these king's long past had believed in.

    However, it was 1828 and the English archaeologist was a young man (only just 25) who was open to change (though not altogether welcoming). So when his world turned black and suddenly he found himself suddenly seized by three burly men who appeared to be dressed in nothing but skirts and yelling at him in a completely foreign language, he had to conclude that perhaps the hieroglyphs in that tomb weren't just the ramblings of a lost society.

    To understand how Mr Barnes had found himself in this situation, we must first say that before this event he had made a remarkable discovery. Dorian was part of a archaeological group who were cataloging the tombs found in what they had termed the Valley of the Kings. In Egypt, the sweltering desert itself, which made the Englishman more disagreeable than ever, especially since the clothes of a proper English gentleman were definitely not suited for the weather.

    Interestingly, in exploring on of these many tombs, some filled with riches beyond imagination, something more had caught the young man's attention. In the tomb of one pharaoh, Amenemsou, there were references to the pharaoh preceding him, the name unmentioned, simply called the 'Lost Pharaoh'.

    Like any good scientist, Dorian had an inquisitive turn of mind and following the hieroglyphs (a process which took many hours due to the difficulties of interpreting these Egyptian symbols) had led him to a spell, a not uncommon occurrence given the Egyptian beliefs in magic and the supernatural. He gathered that this spell was supposed to have returned the Lost Pharaoh to the Egyptian people. Of course, Dorian was a self-proclaimed skeptic and so when he murmured the words under is breath in latin the sudden rush of gravity he felt pounding in on him and his world turning to utter darkness was unexpected. Magic was not real.

    However, he had to disprove this theory, because it was clear to him that the people looking at him as he was pulled up a great set of stairs like he was from an entirely different world were in fact very similar in looks to the depictions of the ancient Egyptians they had seen on the tomb walls.

    Oh yes, Dorian was quite sure now that the spell was real and he had somehow been transported back in time... that was going to cause a few problems.
     
  3. Low and dim candles shone through out the narrow corridors, bouncing and flickering casting shadows; The people laid quiet, not a word was spoken nor a feather was heard, deep concentration was the only emotion expressed in the grand hall. The women were still, all concubines stiff and paranoid of their future, would they be next ? A wrinkled faced women was held by the palace guard, a thick cloth buried in her mouth. Today not only marked another death but another battle won by the pharaoh. The activity of assassins emerging and more murders occurring was a aspect of gran notice, everything and everyone was highly on guard. All eyes were placed on the person who increasing danger, Akhenaten, the youngest pharaoh since the last decade. A heavy arsenal of warriors surrounded the palace, no one would come in nor come out.

    That day another murder had occurred but its cause was not of ignorance but of threat. It was said she had great connection with neighboring towns, towns on which were dubbed as enemies to the prince. If her life was not ended a high danger would of surely followed, more and more traitors were executed per day. The enemy's motive was simple, kill the prince and gain the power, its doing however was highly complex. In a way, it was easier said than done. The young lady's name was of no importance nor would she receive a burial fitted to her position, a traitor was nothing less than a slave and deserved to be treated as one, if the mother did not comply she would surely follow as well.

    News of a stranger discovered in the prince's land was not taken lightly, in a matter of minutes his capture would arrive. Just as foretold the man was taken, he looked not of any man of the neighboring towns or kingdoms. He wore attire dubbed as strange, it was clear in any other day that the man was but a foreign traveler lost in the scorching desert but any such occurrences on this day would be taken quite roughly. The man did not resist, he showed no signs of guilt or desire, his head hanged low-- Pushed down by wooden bars, such a man deserved to look only to the ground. Protocol followed, the man was taken and thrown to a underground dungeon, a dark and low temperature room were he would be placed until judgement.

    The muscled guards wasted no time in alerting the prince, his kingdom would be thrilled at the thought of another traitor being discovered, even if he really wasn't. The prince needed not to be alerted, news had traveled since dawn of such a stranger, his looks were odd and skin was fair. Clear eyes were placed instead of the usual dark tint that any man or women would have. He, was surely strange.

    Akhenaten's head was on a bounty, he had no descendents as of yet. Sure, like any soon to be king or man of power, he had his fair of women, beautiful and curvacious, strong hips structured perfectly for children... But was he attracted ? Many as well as him would wonder on that. The prince's face and body were hidden under thick clothing and a see thru vail, such attire was of importance in case of emergency. Minutes passed until he and his men reached the pits of the dungeon where the stranger laid. The guards were alert in case of any rebellion.
     
  4. He hadn't resisted. Dorian was no fool - he knew that resistance would get him killed - and held still, let himself be dragged deep down to the catacombs of the palace where there were so many twists and turns that by the time they tossed him in the prison with a few kicks for good measure, he no longer knew where to begin if he managed to escape. He lay where they left him (knowing from a few quick breaths that some of his ribs were broken and any movement would damage them further) and began to think.

    The incantation that had bought him here was complex and wordy. He could only recall bits and pieces and even if he could remember the whole thing he doubted he would be able to return to his own time. If the incantation began with "Redire nobis, o rex (return to us, o pharaoh)" it could only serve to return him to the past. Dorian cursed under his breath sharply, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. He would either die here or become a slave. He was still dubious of magic, despite the incantation that bought him here and knew that even if it had worked once, a counter spell may not even exist let alone work.

    He was brought from his reverie shortly by the sound of heavy footfalls, judging by the sound about five or six people. He opened his eyes and watched as the corridor became lit by torch-light, the flames casting shadows that looked like monsters on the walls. Dorian could see feet and legs, but made no move to sit up or engage eye contact. The Englishman was unsure of whether this would enrage his captors further and if he had any even miniscule hope of escape he needed to have a pulse.

    They spoke that foreign language, unlike even the modern Egyptian language he had heard in his time and he could not understand it even slightly. His only indication that they were paying attention to him was that they had stopped outside of his cell-like cage. Who knew what they would do to him next?
     
  5. The prince stood impress, even at such a state the prisoner remained quiet, he did not even shed a glance towards him. The room was restless, hours had passed and daylight would soon come to a end, but yet the captive had not spoken. His breaths came rugged, eyes dropped to the floor, the prince wondered-- Had he intimidated the stranger or was the culprit his men?. Many would of laughed at such question, his own father would of had a fit... The prince intimidating? Oh surely his men would have a good chuckle at that as well. He trusted no one, women and men were all the same, all driven by fame and fortune but that was not all, above that laid power. All things he had.

    لاه بلاه بلاه
    لاه بلاه بلاه
    لاه بلاه بلاه

    "لاه بلاه بلاه" The prince yelled with all authority in his native tongue, hours had flown by such a silence would capture the hatred of even the most patient god. His men would surely love nothing more than to have this fellow's head, no, the strangers clear eyes would be the prize. Such fair skin would sell greatly as well. Even after hours of questioning the prisoner had yet to speak, such determination and perseverance were encouraged to a warrior but did he not know better than to question a prince ?

    Underneath his solid expression and thick clothing the prince cursed the very land the stranger walked on, may he receive eternal damnation! However stout and clever he maybe, each man had a weakness this he knew rather well. Each warrior had a blind spot, this came from his years of training done in the arsenal. Archery, swordsmanship all skills he had once considered important of his life, memories of his youth... All forgotten, shut closed deep in his conscience. As an adult all thoughts of luxury were replaced with bearing children, treaties and warfare. Most days he would sit like a fool in thoughts of great depth of those elements... A life predetermined by the gods, he would be created and ended by the same deity. Trivial matters such as cowardly men were below him.

    "Insolens Ignavus " [ Insolent Coward ]
     
  6. Hours passed. Dorian grew tired and weary of the endless yelling and questioning from the man he supposed was the pharaoh, as he had an aura of power and the men obeyed his commands. He grew weaker, tired and still sore, wishing for respite. He wanted to yell back at the man, pharaoh or no, knowing that he would never understand the plain English he would speak just as he did not understand their archaic language, but his pride prevented it and he suffered in silence.

    Suddenly, the yelling stopped and the pharaoh, obviously growing as weary as his prisoner of the futile interrogation hissed out two words. Unlike the rest of the words, which Dorian had been oblivious too, he could understand the heavily accented words which fell on his ears now. Surely not, he thought, starting and looking up into the eyes of the pharaoh who had just called him, he was sure, an insolent fool.

    Dark eyes gazed at him angrily through a thin veil, and licking his cracked lips, Dorian whispered, "Latin? I can... understand you?" which he repeated hastily in the aforementioned language, watching as the pharaoh recognised what he said. The words pained him as did his ragged breaths, but it was possible that if the pharaoh could understand him then surely someone else in the god-forsaken place could. And then maybe, just maybe, he could find a way home.

    Though, judging by the way the pharaoh was looking at him, he was unsure whether he would live to see another day or not.
     
  7. Soon enough a tan masculine hand found itself raising, the guards bit off their tongues at the seemingly normal gesture, but his men knew otherwise. That peaceful gesture meant Silence, a word he did not take lightly. In a snap of a figure all henchmen as he would call lowered themselves onto their knees; he knew his men would not consider leaving the room but the gesture was of respect, for that moment they would act as if mute, blind and deaf. At the least, this time around he could say his men were not dimwitted, thought that statement could be proven wrong at any moment.

    The prince's face, masked by his veil stood shocked, he did not breath. The foreigner knew of the sacred language... Said dialect was only passed down to people of greatness, was his people mistaken and foolish to take the stranger in ? Oh he would hope not, or else times of dryness and suffering would soon come. Akhenaten, a man known for his stout posture and responses laid baffled, even astonished if you will. His dark eyes traveled down the strangers form, gathering data and any clues onto which he might need. The man looked unarmed, it was foolish for anyone to unarmed at such a point of age. Was the man insane?

    No, no, no, his thoughts trailed through his head, he would not lose posture with such a coward who had not even managed to speak. His face quickly removed all signs of hesitation and soon replaced them with his normal cold nature. Akhenaten let out a menacing laugh onto which his men followed. He would not lose pride! The prince crossed his arms, looking sternly at the mans eyes.

    " Indeed " He replied heatedly, " State your business, name and a reason onto which I should not kill you "
     
  8. The pharaoh challenged him. He was proud, used to having his orders followed and obeyed, but Dorian had never been one to follow blindly. He sat up, a hand going around his ribs as he grimaced at the pain resulting from the action, but quickly schooled his expression to give himself a cool, unaffected air. Raising his chin proudly, he eyed the pharaoh, looking him up and down quickly as the man had done him.

    He could not see much through the clothing, obviously meant as a protective barrier and disguise, but he could tell that if he stood he would be at least a head taller than the pharaoh. Behind his cool expression, he allowed himself a smile. Perhaps the pharaoh was still young and open to second guessing himself.

    Dorian had paused long enough. Clearing his throat once, he looked the king straight in the eyes and replied, "Dorian Barnes. My business is my own - I am simply seeking a way home. As to why you should not kill me.... well, I may be of use to you. I know things far beyond your imagination, Pharaoh." He looked challengingly at the pharaoh and smirked. Perhaps the king could be persuaded to keep him alive.

    However, he knew he was treading a very fine line. The pharaoh was seen to be a god amongst men and anything he did would be above reproach... what was the death of an unknown foreigner to a god? Perhaps if the pharaoh felt Dorian could be some use to him he would keep him there, by his side. It was a more preferable option than that of a life of slavery or the abyss of death.
     
  9. His men's eyes glowed menacingly, although they did not know of the sacred language they could tell that the prince was not pleased. Amongst the prince's people he was known for his pride and ice like heart, who more than he had seen so many comrades fall to their death. Akhenaten paced himself to remain calm, in all truth he wanted nothing more than to go back to his chamber and rest; he didn't need anymore disturbances for the day and if possible for his life. Way above the stairs, warmth, food and luxury awaited him, why had he chosen to play with such a stranger for so long ? In any other circumstance such a retalient person would've been exiled, the stranger surely did capture his attention.

    The prince kneeled down, facing directly the stranger. Clearing his throat, he dismissed many of his rational thoughts. Chuckling Akhenaten slightly raced his veil, eyeing curiously his newest... pet. His dark eyes locked themselves onto the strangers clear one's, in a snap of a finger the henchmen stood, grabbing a rough hold of the foreigner. With great force four men clashed the mans thin body against the old brick walls of the cell. A knife swiftly placed underneath the man's chin.

    " Listen close.. " Akhenaten's heavily accentuated voice stated, his face eerily close to the foreigner's " You will follow our orders, question any of my commands and I will not hesitate " He trailed, pressing the knife deeper onto his skin.

    All grips on the stranger loosened, and more torches were lighten. From there the group proceeded to walk up the spiral thin stairs. Minutes of silence passed, Akhenaten could tell his pet's health was reaching it's peak, a medic was soon called.

    The prince's men remained quite through out the whole process, the prince himself was a subject of question in the kingdom due to judgement, but his newest task seemed rather amusing. Leaning close the prince whispered, " Remain quiet, do not question ", he trailed with a slight serious tone, " Do not scream ". At this the royal medic entered the room, bowing at the pharaohs presence.
     
  10. The way the pharaoh looked at him was as if he were some curious toy, a mere amusement. Then as he was slammed against the walls of the cell, he bit back groans as his ribs ached with the movement. The pharaoh's eyes on him, dark and smouldering, spoke of threat and impatience and the knife against Dorian's neck was alarming - but he had been spared so far and was not scared.

    He was made to follow the pharaoh and his entourage, who eyed him like a bug they wished to crush, all the while his breaths becoming shallower. Dorian was proud though, too proud to admit defeat, and kept pace with them as they climbed the godforsaken stairs and left the catacombs. All was silent and outside night had come. The pharaoh sent for someone in his own tongue.

    The prince turned to him, trying to exude the powerful aura he had before, but Dorian could sense weariness in his tone and this surprised him more than the orders the man hissed at him. Do not scream...? Dorian thought looking towards the man who had entered the room, bowing to the pharaoh. God, he was probably going to be tortured now. Closing his eyes and holding his head high, the Englishman pursed his lips and nodded.

    He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of breaking him.
     
  11. Akhenaten leaned against the cool brick wall, watching the doctors play around with herbal roots while reading and chanting texts from prophet books. His men watched in awe, non royals such at them would of course gawk at such procedures, but to him ? It was another day, bitter incantations forced down his throat, at least at this moment the patient would not be him. Herbs were cut, liquid draining from their very core-- the medic smiled, and so did he. Grunting the prince glanced at foreigner... No, he had heard his name, while he was not worthy of even being called by it, he got a chuckled at hearing such a strange name. It fitted him. Dorian... Quite interesting.

    A cloth was soaked in hot water, drowning itself in salt. The medics respectfully called towards the prince, they could not proceed if the patient remained clothed. Akhenaten was highly amused, walking towards his pet he smiled wickedly. " Shirt. Off. " No more words were felt needed. A knock echoed inside the room, its cause a young vibrant girl. While petite she sported dark flawless skin, her body wrapped in precious white silk striking a magnificent contrast, while golden jewels adorned her hands and feet. This girl was second in line, the pharaohs main toy.. Mut.

    Her dark locks bounced around as she pranced towards her man, enveloping him in a gran and deep kiss. Her arms entangled themselves around his hot neck while his hands traveled around her small waist. This was the kingdoms golden couple, many were surprised children were not yet born. The prince broke this kiss, glancing at his perfect doll at his fingers. Sweet velvety words were whispered at her ears, whatever it was the prince said it sure caused the girl to smile.

    Akhenaten facial expressions change immediately from it soft and warm state to his normal cold and menacing aura. His eyes staring back at his pet, the medics nodding while handing a ill smelling beverage to his hands.

    " Shirt. Off. " He motioned once again, with the same monotone as before. " Drink. "
     
  12. Dorian was on edge as the person, seemingly a doctor of some kind, making up potent brews and looking at him with curiosity. He felt like baring his teeth in a snarl at the man, but couldn't find the energy and knew the pharaoh would probably take offense to that. Best to keep on his good side for now. The pharaoh glanced at him, smiled in an unnerving way and told him to remove his shirt.

    Scowling, Dorian removed his cravat and stopped short when he heard a knock on the heavy wooden door, watching as a young, very beautiful woman entered the room and plastered herself to the prince. A half-hearted sneer appeared on Dorian's face as he watched them, cooing like lovers, then kissing most scandalously. Women. Such vile creatures. He knew from the evidence they had found in the Valley of the Kings that the pharaoh had often more than one wife and many concubines. How shameful.

    However, the pharaoh changed subtly, relaxed. He softened and seemed to Dorian, in that moment, tender. He could not account for the way his heart thumped when he thought this and scowled. Such feelings for his own sex had only ever bought him trouble and becoming attracted to a tyrant pharaoh was even less desirable than the scorn he had received in London society.

    The pharaoh turned to him, looking cold once more and Dorian felt foolish for ever thinking the man was in the least attractive. The pharaoh repeated his earlier words and he was jerked back into reality, swiftly removing his waistcoat and shirt displaying already purple bruised on his chest, which was lean but muscular from toiling in the desert for the past six months. Making a face, he accepted the concoction from the doctor and downed it in one go like one would whiskey, the taste bitter and cloying.

    He coughed lightly, muttered "Disgusting" in his own native tongue and awaited further instruction, feeling uneasy to be so exposed.
     
  13. Akhenaten held back laughter, his men had already covered mos of his part. The doc's were known for being very old fashion, using herbal recipes as their ancestors did, years before their own existence. The beverage would of course be bitter, he had drunk various mixtures of that same drink, truthfully one never accustomed to said taste. The prince brushed off and straightened the fabric of his clothes, standing proud and also very humorous, after being hours in a unsuccessful interrogation none other than Mut would cheer him up so well. Signaling toward his men, a heated and saltwater soaked cloth was placed in his hand, after removing excess water the next step would commence.

    Stepping towards the table on which Dorian sat he cautiously wrapped the warm cloth around the strangers waist, very tightly. The doctors of course continued to take measures of the man, using themselves as points of reference. What was hoped was after all measurements appropriate clothing, for a pet, would be made. The prince was rather shocked at himself, he could tell the man situated in front of him was in pain, and heck he cared. A situation he was not accustomed to.

    "Salt shall help open wounds... Heat for pain " He murmured.

    After more minutes of observation the medics had declared him stable enough to leave. Compared to most men that came into their hands, he was stable to begin with or at least he thought so. His men assisted in the care moving his pet, as well as his warnings had already been dictated. The man was not to be hurt, push, assaulted or treated as a slave... If not by him. Whoever and whichever of his guards who dared too would be heavily punished.

    After more minutes of stairs and constantly walking narrow and spiral corridors a plane was finally reached, at the bases of the room were stoned pillars, four to be exact. Each carved with excellent detail by the best carvers of his kingdom. At the far end of, hidden of normal site was a hidden door. After being pushed open by the guards a huge chamber, filled with treasures and weaponry showed. Hidden behind a golden statue lay another door, onto which the prince signaled to Dorian.

    " Go in "
     
  14. As soon as the pharaoh's fingers brushed his skin, Dorian's nerves were on edge and he was more than aware of the other man's presence. He winced in expectation of what was to come, but the hands that wound the bandage tightly around his waist were sure and gentle. The words he spoke, murmured into Dorian's ear like honey slowly ignited that flame he had quenched earlier and he desperately fought it, keeping his face inexpressive. "Thank you," he replied stonily as the pharaoh retreated once more.

    For what purpose did the pharaoh take such care with him? Maybe it was because he believed that Dorian knew things he could never dream of. The thoughts baffled the young archaeologist, but they were soon swept away by curiosity as their party (this time with Dorian leaning on one of the guards for support) made their way through a labyrinth of corridors. They passed through chambers of beauty unsurpassed, riches unimagined, but he could only watch the stiff back of the pharaoh.

    He signaled for Dorian to go into a hidden doorway and he wondered with trepidation whether he would meet his doom there. He remembered briefly that all human sacrifices the ancient Egyptian's had made to the gods had no signs of ill health and were indeed extremely well-cared for before their sacrifice. Perhaps that was what the king had in store for him.

    "Very well," Dorian answered and entered the room with his head held high. The rooms looked to be private, spacious and richly decorated with fine gold, silver and semi-precious stones such as the much prized lapis lazuli. Silks hung sensually from the walls and everything spoke of comfort and luxury.

    He turned back to look at the pharaoh, his gaze piercing. Why had he bought him to his private chambers? Perhaps he thought to put him at ease before his death?
     
  15. Looking back to his men, a signal was made for their presence to be gone. They were no longer needed. Akhenaten groaned in frustration, through out the whole day his whole attention had been captivated by the daring stranger. He was rather captivated by the man's warrior attitude, it was not a every day occurrence when someone dared to not only to speak to him as an equal, not intimidated as an equal. After a single moment of silence, the prince cleared his throat as he leaned against the icy surface of the walls. Searching through his passed memories Akhenaten had wished to pay more attention to his studies of Latin as a child, he never knew it would come back to bite him.

    " Sit were you wish... Dorian " He commanded, his voice low and eyes observant. Removing his veil, he patted his rough cropped hair, accommodating them. " Explain yourself... Who are you ? "
     
  16. ((If Dorian says anything in English from now on it will be in italics, to avoid confusion))

    Dorian sat on one of the day-bed like sofa's and sighed, placing his head in his hands. Could he tell the truth? Could this all possibly be an elaborate dream fueled by too much sun in the hot deserts? The pain in his chest told him otherwise and he looked back up at the pharaoh, composing himself.

    The pharaoh was, he realized with a start, quite young. Possibly only eighteen or so. His features were chiseled and extremely attractive, the sight making Dorian's breath catch in his chest despite his outwardly calm appearance. Pushing away those thoughts, he ran a hand through his dark hair. The pharaoh probably wouldn't believe the truth, but he had nothing left to lose. "As I said before, my name is Dorian Barnes. I am an archaeologist..." he paused a moment, searching his brain, but there was no Latin equivalent for the English term. "A scientist of sorts. I specialise in investigating the past."

    Dorian bit his bottom lips thoughtfully, wondering if he should continue. Would the future change drastically if he revealed it to the pharaoh... however, he may be the only one with this knowledge. This pharaoh, the one he was speaking to now, could be the predecessor of Amenemsou. If that was the case then he was the lost pharaoh and all knowledge would disappear with him. Making his mind up quickly, he continued.

    "You may not believe me when I say this, but if my calculations are correct I come from a place thousands of years in the future. This land, this place still exists, but not as you know it. In my time it is called Egypt," he paused one more, locking eyes with the pharaoh and wondering what it was the young man thought of all of this.
     
  17. [ I want to keep my guys speech pattern, actions and knowledge as primitive as possible ]

    Akhenaten stood back as Dorian described and spoke of things, words he did not understand. Arche... Archeo... Archeologist, what in the name of Amun was that ? What was the meaning of that word, and if so did it make him a enemy ? So many questions pondered inside of the young pharaohs head, his eyes widening as they searched for any clue of the man's dishonesty. The prince scratched the back of his neck as a sign of utter confusion, had the man become delusional ? The man shook his head, letting out a few low chuckles.

    " You are right... I do not believe you. Past ? What past ? Our only past is that of the Gods, and I am certain they had no affiliation with yourself. Look at you. You are nothing but a peasant " He laughed, although he said this his face showed no humor as his features remained stiff and serious.

    Akhenaten sighed as he walked towards the man, placing his hand on the strangers forehead. Dorian looked taken back at the prince's rash actions, but what could the pharaoh say? He had a madman on his hands, if word got out his pet would surely perish. Such rubbish of the future and past would be projected as a insult to his people. An insult to the gods, a act punishable by death. Clicking his tongue the prince sighed once again.

    " You've gone mad. No signs of fever, but you are surely insane " The prince muttered mostly to himself as he regained his calm composure, a thought quickly sparking in his head, " If what you say is true, then explain... How is it you came here ? " he questioned.
     
  18. "I am of quite sound mind, I assure you," Dorian informed the younger man stiffly, all too aware of the hand touching his face. He shoved the hand off and stood stalking away with his back turned to the king. "With all your beliefs in magic, I would assume you could believe this at least."

    He sighed and turned back. "Mere hours ago I was in the valley, the secret place where the pharoah's and their first wives are buried. I, along with others of my profession, have been finding these tombs and exploring them. I know to you that seems like a punishable offence, but you must believe me when I say we try not to damage any of the remains there, simply to take note of what is there and has not been stolen or defaced."

    Dorian paused once more, gathering his thoughts. "I had been studying a tomb, that of a pharaoh named Amenemsou in which there were descriptions of another pharaoh, his predeccesor. He was no named, simply called the 'Lost Pharaoh'. I was curious of course, but all that was said of this king was that he had disappeared as if into thin air. I encountered a spell and not the normal spells you and I know are found in the tombs of kings..." he swallowed, wondering what this would mean for the current pharaoh what he had found next. "I read this spell and I found myself here. I cannot tell you exactly what the spell said, only that it begun with 'return to us, o pharaoh'."

    What would the pharaoh think? Did this Amenemsou exist yet? Was he a son of the king or a relative? It all was so complex and strange. It tired him simply thinking of it. "I know you have no reason to believe me, but if you are the pharaoh mentioned in the tomb, that spell was meant to help you return to them. Youwill disappear. In my time it has already happened. Perhaps my coming here is a blessing in disguise but... I do not know how I could help you, or if I even wish to."