It all happened so fast, Timaeus wasn’t even sure what had really happened. One moment he could feel Adre behind him, racing through the crack to escape the guards. The next? There was a scream and the presence of his friend was gone as Adre was pulled out by one of the soldiers that had given chase. Timaeus could remember scrambling to grab a hold of his friend and tug him free, but there had been a loud bang and a glint of metal. Now there was a thick smog filling the air and Tim could feel a volley of little pebbles crashing down around him. In the chaos, he somehow lost his grip on Adrestus as the soldiers took advantage of the confusion in order to tug the Athenian out of the tunnel.

Quickly pushed back by the falling debris, a terrible cough racked Timaeus’ chest as the thick smog of dust and sand coated his lungs. The thick fabric of the burqa offered little protection from this assault from these particles and the Colchian had no choice but to push through the cave so that his own ribcage might not be crushed between his spasms and walls of the crack. Behind him, Timaeus could hear Adrestus call out for him, but there was little that the boy could do as he fell to his knees, trying to rid himself of the thick material coating his lungs. Bitter tears stung at his eyes, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the irritation of the dust or if they were coming from the sheer helplessness that the sixteen-year-old felt. He had sworn to Adrestus that he would keep him safe, just as Adre had done for him, but when push came to shove there was nothing that Tim could do as the soldiers tore them away from each other. He could only hope that Adre had heard the sickening sounds coming from Timaeus and take comfort in the fact that his friend had not willfully abandoned him, but instead had been forced forward by the need to breathe fresh air and save himself from choking on the dust.

Not that he was going to find any sort of fresh air down here. This was a tomb, after all, meant to keep the dead in and the living out. There was no need for the builders to allow for the breezes that cooled the world above down here. The bandaged mummies would have no use for such things. So instead of being met with the lovely scent of life, his lungs were only filled with the ever-present stale scent of death as the young man tried to clear his lungs. It wasn’t pleasant and far from what Tim needed at this moment, but it worked nevertheless. For a moment, the young Colchian just sat curled up against the ground, coughing his lungs out. By the time Timaeus had recovered, it was far too late for him to turn around and try to save his friend. Even the guards seemed to have given up on Timaeus as everything was dead silent as the boy listened for any sign of his pursuers but there was nothing. It was so silent that Tim was certain that if he dropped one of the pins holding this flimsy disguise together, it would sound as loud as glass shattering in the empty tomb.

Timaeus was utterly alone.

Every instinct in him told the boy that he needed to dive back into that crack and go after his friend. He might not have been the strongest man out there, but he was trained as a soldier. Tim had a knife on him, underneath all of these heavy fabrics. If he could hold his own against those snakes a few short months ago, then he could certainly hold his own against the soldiers long enough to give Adre a chance to escape. But then what? He was just one boy with a knife. He might be skilled, but even he had his doubts that he was good enough to save both of them. Then what would happen next? Adre runs free while Tim is captured.. or worse. That would possibly be an even worse situation as even though Adre would do anything to free his friend in turn, he wasn’t raised like Tim was. He wasn’t destined to be a soldier. Adre would likely get himself killed and as god awful as this situation was, Timaeus couldn’t take the chance of that happening. He would have to find another way to rescue his friend.

Not that going back was really ever an option anyway. Tim soon discover this as he unsteadily pulled himself up to his feet and made his way back over to the crag. Even though it was darker than a Colchian mine, he could clearly see that this path was now blocked up by a bunch of loose stones that had fallen into the causeway. He hadn’t realized that the walls were that weak or the soldier that had hit it was so strong, but Timaeus knew that he was not capable of moving the rocks away in such a tight space. It was far too cramped to barely even move around in, let alone push rocks out of the way. Even if he hadn’t been slowed by the dust and the grime, he wouldn’t have been able to give chase.

Stepping away from the crack, Timaeus was not sure what he could do next. He clearly had to help Adre somehow, but he was trapped down here with seemingly no way out and without a single hope of what to do. Maybe Adre was the lucky one, having been caught by the soldiers. At least he wouldn’t be condemned to a terrible death trapped in this maze of passageways like Tim now seemed to be. Or at least that seemed to be the case until the faint noise of another person speaking caught his attention.

Quickly shaking these thoughts of despair from his mind, Timaeus turned towards the sound of the noise. It was rather faint, but given the silence of everything else, it was pretty clear to Timaeus that this was not the remnants of the soldiers barking orders to each other or Adre calling for help. No, instead it seemed to be… was that a woman?... speaking in his native tongue of Greek. Instantly the boy perked up a bit as he considered why there would be a lady from his nation down here in the tunnels of Egpyt. Perhaps maybe she was one of the slaves that Adre and Tim had seen working earlier? If this was the case, she might not be able to help much, but if he could at least explain the situation to someone who would surely be sympathetic to the boy’s plight, maybe she could offer some insight into what Tim could for his friend.

Despite his earlier insistence that the boys still to themselves, which was what encouraged Timaeus to run away from the stranger in the quicksand, the boy felt that he had no other option, but to head in the direction that he had heard the voice. Carefully, the boy wandered away from the crack and deeper into the maze of tunnels, pausing whenever he heard the noises of others fade away into quiet nothingness. As much as he wanted to find them and get help, Tim did not want to wander aimlessly around these tunnels and screw himself over from any sort of escape. He needed to move quickly, but carefully as one wrong turn could spell disaster.

It took the boy a while, but soon enough he could see the dim flicker of light coming from the end of the tunnel. He had found the source of the noise! Grateful that he was no longer alone, Timaeus almost indulged the instinct he had to bolt forward and race into the room where these strangers were. However, the sheer amount of trials that had come thus far to the young man forced him to hold back, hiding beneath his burqa to blend in with the shadows as he watched what was happening. It was a good thing that the boy did this as even though Tim thought that he could see the woman he had heard earlier, he could see that she was not alone. At least two men accompanied her. Two Egyptian men.

That alone had Timaeus hold back. He was more than willing to trust the woman as really she could hardly be any threat, but the others… Timaeus would be foolish to blindly think that they would likely take kindly to a Greek boy dressed in women’s clothes deep in the tunnels of their precious tombs. He was foolish if he thought that this course of action would lead to anything other than a death sentence for him. Their presence alone was almost enough to encourage Timaeus to try and turn around go back the way he came in order to try and find a new way out, but he was far too close for that. If he moved, he could be spotted and that really wasn’t an option either.

So with little choice beyond merely standing still in the darkness, Timaeus silently prayed that those in the room beyond would be far too distracted by whatever was in the room to look down the tunnel and see the dark red fabric of his disguise in the furthest flickers of their torchlight…

After the rush of adrenaline peaked, it left in its place an uncertain chill, despite the stifling heat that followed them down into the tomb. Eyes darting around the room, his attention was drawn to the writing on the tomb walls, the legacy left for the one who was laid to rest eternal here.

Between the dim light and the dust lingering in the air, Zoser scrunched his nose as he peered at the words. While many of hieroglyphic symbols had not changed much over the generations, the language had changed over time, and it felt much like a puzzle putting the pieces of errant and nearly lost language together.

"Here lies one of heart and song. The beauty was the air she breathed, her most prize possession the heart of Amunek. Now she lies, bound for Duat, guided by motherly Nephthys. Her path will always be clear, her journey safe, as Amunek blessed her above all else, so that she might see. Hidden in death as she was in life."

As far as Zoser knew, Amunek's bride had perished long before him...and was buried elsewhere. So...

"A mistress?" Zoser mused, quietly to himself. There were no records of this as far as he knew, but then again, the final line of the wall markings stated as much - he had hidden her away.

"Zoser..."

The soft call of his name drew his eyes from the wall and he moved to light the top of the sarcophagus with torchlight as he read the name aloud.

"Anck-Nefriti-Tiye. It is not his wife, the Queen. Commonborn based on the markings, but...clearly of high importance. A favored mistress, if I were to chance a gue-.."

The sudden call of his name again, this time coupled with the collision of the cowering woman clawing against his side delayed him in swinging the torchlight from where she ran.

Monsters. Ridiculous. Then again, they were trapped in secret chamber of a tomb filled with mysterious music. According to the myths of Greece, it was not...the most far-fetched option. Yet this was Egypt, it couldn't happen here...right?

It did not stop his pulse from racing.

"Who's there?" Zoser shouted, in Coptic. Ideally, he would hear the retreating of feet - a tomb raider making their way to the exit that would ultimately save their lives. "Show yourself!"