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For all their glory, the Children of the Sun are subject to a light which fades as the finalé of each of their stories is sought. Meketaten is the only child for whom we have a certain cause of death, just as Tutankhamun is the only one for whom we have a body. Others - Kiya's daughter, Meritaten- and Ankhesenapaaten-Tasherit - are simple whispers in the chorus of history while still others - Ankhes' and Tutankhamun's still-born daughters - were denied the breath that would have permitted their whisper.

For all this darkness, the Aten still shines as it has for over three thousand years and gains in strength the more we remember. Details become increasingly distinct the further we inquire. We are the Children of the Sun, as much as those whose stories we seek and whose lives we puzzle over. Be it abhorrence or adjolation, we are bound by the same ankh descending from the heavens to rejuvenate a place in time, once obliterated, now unable to be denied immortality. Hail to the Aten.

Be they lost or found, all the Children of the Aten are dear to me, and so are the views of you, my visitor. Thus, I enocurage you to contact me via email if you have any comments, questions, criticisms, or theories you wish to share. Dreams are more than welcome; perhaps I might share a few myself.