fic: Blue Eyes White Dragon: Kisara's Shadow 02
Kisara.
Seth stood, frozen, beside the bed as Ryou sat up slowly, blinking the heaviness of sleep from his pale eyes. The blanket fell away from his body as he sat up, exposing the pale skin of his neck and the part of his collarbone that wasn't covered by the rough tunic he had been changed into by the servants. The dirt and grime from years of hard living had been washed from his face and neck while he was asleep, but his silvery hair was still lank and matted. Slightly disoriented, he peered around at all of them in confusion.
"Where am I?" he rasped, voice hoarse from lack of use.
While Siamun gave instructions to the slaves standing outside the room to fetch a healer, Mahad began explaining the situation to the boy.
"You are in the palace of the Pharaoh."
"The Pharaoh!" Ryou's eyes widened in shock.
Thrusting the sheet away from himself, he struggled to get out of bed. As his feet touched the floor, his knees gave way, unable to support his weight after being abed for so long, and he pitched forward. Startled, Seth found himself with an armful of the boy, Ryou's large blue eyes staring up at him. Before he could come to his senses and help Ryou back into bed, Mahad and Atem had taken control and sat him back down firmly.
"Steady there, boy," Atem said, not unkindly. "You're not quite ready to walk around just yet."
Ryou's face was flushed with mortification and shame and he bowed as low as he could while still seated.
"My apologies, Pharaoh," he stammered. "I mean no disrespect."
Atem only smiled briefly in response, shaking his head to indicate that no offense had been taken on his part. Mahad cleared his throat loudly and all attention turned back to him. He glanced over at Seth once before continuing.
"As I was saying. You were found in the village of Kul Elna and brought here on the Pharaoh's orders." He crossed his arms, the prongs of the Ring clinking against each other with the movement. "Now we need you to answer a few questions."
"Anything, my lord."
"What were you doing in the village?"
Ryou fidgeted, both hands twisting in the thin blanket, expression uncomfortable. Mahad raised an eyebrow and waited for the response.
"I - I'm sort of a - well, actually I am a slave, but I ran away from my master. Only because he was beating me!" he added defensively, as if his listeners would fault him for desertion. "I stole away in a merchant caravan headed for the capital, but they found me just as we were passing the village and threw me out."
"How long ago did you arrive at the village?"
"About a month?" Ryou shook his head. "Pardon me, my lord, but it was hard to keep track of dates when I was hiding and stealing away."
"It's fine," Atem told him, interrupting Mahad. Hearing movement in the corridor outside, the Pharaoh sighed. He turned back to Ryou and gave him a small smile. "You must be exhausted. The healers will have a look at your injuries. You will bathe and we shall continue this in the morning."
He paused to nod at Seth, who had backed away from the bed and moved to stand off at the side of the room away from Ryou, and left the room. The healers and servants outside bowed low to him as he passed, trailed by Mahad, Seth and Siamun. From the bed, Ryou could only blink in confusion at the brief and purposeless conversation he'd just had. Weren't they just reiterating information he had already told the man with the Ring? When the healers came in to inspect his wounds, he addressed the questions to them.
"Who were the other men?"
The robed man who had his arm and was checking the scrapes for infections was the one who spoke in a hushed tone.
"They were two of the Six High Priests - Seth and Mahad. The other one was the Grand Vizier Siamun, the Pharaoh's most trusted advisor."
"Priest Seth…he was the one with the staff?"
"Yes." The healer paused and looked up at him conspiratorially. "It's not my place to say, sir, but one should be careful around the Priests. Especially Priest Seth. They wield powers beyond one's wildest imagination."
"Ah…I'll…keep that in mind," Ryou replied uncertainly.
The healers continued to work in silence after that and Ryou decided against asking further questions, letting them clean and bind his scrapes. By the time the slaves had finished scrubbing his hair and body clean of months of filth and hard travel, he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. He welcomed the change of clothing and soft bed in a new room and fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow, dreaming of dark blue eyes and silver scales.
Mana skipped off towards her room, waving goodnight to her master and teacher, who waved back as she left, shaking his head fondly. As she disappeared around the corner, Mahad turned back to surveying the reflection of the moon in the fountain. They had been learning about the balance between light and dark and ultimately the balance of all things and Mana had taken to the debate with gusto and passion. Of that, at least, he was glad.
The now-familiar ache began in his chest, from the place where the Ring rested above his heart. They had all applauded him in his battle against Bakura. He had vastly increased his Magician's power in leaps and bounds and rebirthed it in a new form. But at what cost? In a desperate attempt to defeat Bakura on that dreadful day in the underground practice grounds, he had attempted to fuse his Magician - the creature of his Ka, his soul - with himself by pouring his life force, his Ba, into it. He had gotten the power he wanted, but he had weakened his body and shortened his lifespan greatly - and, in the end, Bakura had won. He had taken the Ring with him and it had been tainted by the evil in his heart.
He rested his hand on the Eye at the centre of the Ring, breathing deeply to try and soothe the pain. Atem still believed that Mahad had returned weakened, but whole. And then the final battle with Zork had soon followed. The High Priest could not have told him about the risks his bold feat had brought with it when the Pharaoh had needed him in those crucial moments. So he had pushed himself to the brink of death to retrieve the Ring and to aid his friend.
"Mahad," a deep, female voice called softly from behind him. He turned around to face the speaker, a tall woman with a golden headdress and kohl-lined eyes.
"Isis."
The High Priestess of the Torque came to stand beside him at the fountain, only reaching his ear in height. She also had a hand resting against the Eye at the centre of her necklace, which was emitting a soft glow. The Ring warmed and glowed in response under Mahad's hand, spreading into his chest. The ache gradually faded, leaving behind a pleasant numbness. She smiled at him gently.
"I sensed you were particularly unsettled tonight," she told him. "And you have been for a long while now."
"It isn't something others can help me with, Isis." He smiled back at her uncertainly, as if he were not used to the gesture. "But I thank you for your concern."
If he had thought Isis would back down from this argument so easily, he was wrong. Isis had not become High Priestess solely based on her intellectual and spiritual wisdom. She was firm and unyielding in her goals. Her dark blue eyes were piercing as they regarded him in silent contemplation. Mahad inwardly sighed.
"Do you remember when I battled against Bakura and I had increased the power of my Magician?"
"I do. You said you transferred some of your life force into the Magician." Her eyes narrowed. "You didn't just transfer some did you?" When he didn't reply, the hand she had resting at her throat tightened and she gave a small gasp of shock.
"The truth was, I had tried to completely fuse myself with the Magician," he confessed. "And I had almost succeeded as well, except…at the last moment, something inside my heart did not want to die. I pulled away from the magic before it could take everything from me. I lived - and so did Bakura."
Isis placed a gentle hand on his arm, bracing him. "There is no shame in wanting to live," she told him firmly. "And what's done is done. Bakura has been defeated and Zork is gone from this world, Mahad - it's time you stopped blaming yourself for something out of your control."
He removed her hand from his arm gently, shaking his head. The eyes that looked back at hers were haunted and defeated, devoured by guilt and shame from the weaknesses he perceived in himself. The turmoil followed him, shadowing his every movement, and it had to have been chipping away at his mental defences ever since he had been taken off the battlefield. Isis brought a hand to the Torque, tracing the shape of the Eye with her fingertips.
"You cannot let this shadow your mind," she said. "You are allowing it to bring about self-doubt and cloud your better judgement. You are honourable, Mahad, and you fulfilled every duty and obligation to the Pharaoh on the battlefield that day. Do not ever think otherwise."
She lingered for a moment longer afterwards, watching him. When he did not make a move to reply or acknowledge her further, she sighed and left the courtyard. As the sound of her footsteps died away, Mahad turned from his study of the moon's reflection in the fountain and smiled sadly at the archway she had left through.
Despite knowing all this, he thought, I am now more aware of my weaknesses than ever.
Seth strode through the torch lit corridor that led to the library, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming in his left temple. He had not been able to get a decent moment of rest at all the previous night and the morning had been one disaster after another. Atem had excused him from the court's convening that morning, citing the need to settle the newcomer, so Seth had been unable to formally present his own opinions on the matter. Then the slaves had mistakenly returned the scrolls he had been studying from the previous night to the library, which was why he was heading there right now to get some work done - and hopefully avoid anymore disruptions to his morning. By the time he reached the doorway, his temple was throbbing slightly.
He crossed the threshold, making his way determinedly towards the shelves where his scrolls were located, when a cough sounded to his right. He turned to glare at the intruder, knowing perfectly well who it was.
"You don't need to hide anymore. I know you're there, Atem."
Atem appeared from behind the shelves of scrolls with an amused shrug.
"It wasn't a great hiding place to begin with."
Seth snorted derisively and began to pull out the scrolls he needed.
"You were never a good hider anyway."
"I thought I had gotten fairly adept at hiding," Atem replied with mock disappointment. "I did spend a lot of my childhood hiding from my teachers with Mana and Mahad. We found many great hiding places around here."
They fell silent, still uncertain of the camaraderie in their newfound kinship. They had met as liege and subject, building trust and respect on the foundation of their formal relationship. When the secret of Seth's birth and Akhenadin's treachery under the influence of Zork had come to light, their bond had been strained to the point of breaking. Even now, when everything had been settled and the kingdom had returned to normal, their manner around each other was still uneasy.
"Pharaoh…"
"Seth, please. When there's no one else around, there should be no need for formalities between us. We are cousins, after all." Atem tapped the shelf between them and motioned for Seth to follow him to the desks. "I actually have something I wish to discuss with you in private."
Atem placed both palms flat on the table top, regarding Seth with a suddenly serious expression. The Priest eyed him warily, leaving the scroll he was about to pick up on the shelf and standing across the table from him.
"Seth," Atem began. "In light of the events in recent years, I've come to realise that this is not going to be forever - I'm not going to live forever. We came close to entering the Afterlife last time."
"What are you trying to say?" Seth said apprehensively, dreading what he was about to say. Atem reached out a hand to him, palm facing upwards in invitation.
"If something ever happens to me and I am taken before my time…no, Seth, listen," he said, cutting his cousin off before he could interrupt. "We will never know if someone like Bakura would ever appear again - and whether we will survive the next time one does. The future of the kingdom must be secured. Seth…I am going to name you my heir."
"No!" Seth stepped back, eyes widening in shock and dread. "Pharaoh - Atem - you cannot name me as your heir! I cannot do it!"
He fell on one knee, one shaking hand raised to cover his face. His whole body shook with tremors, cold sweat turning his whole body suddenly clammy with fear and shock. He could notbecome the heir - the Pharaoh! Not after what had happened with his father, his treachery. Atem and the other Priests may have forgiven them, but the people remembered. And the people would not be as willing to accept a traitor as their ruler, endorsed by Atem or not.
"This is my wish, Seth," Atem told him firmly, "and our will."
Seth raised his head to face the Pharaoh, expression tortured as he took in the use of the use of the royal address. Atem walked around the desk to where he was kneeling and reached out to grasp his shoulder bracingly. The expression in his dark eyes was kind.
"I won't ask for an answer at this moment. But I will ask you to seriously consider accepting my request. The kingdom needs an heir and there is no guarantee I will be able to provide that. You are my closest male relative and have proven yourself worthy of succeeding the throne. There is no better candidate."
He reached out a hand to help him up. Seth grasped the proffered hand after a moment's hesitation, prompting a smile from Atem, and got to his feet. They each went to different parts of the library - Seth to find the scrolls he needed and Atem to peruse historical texts that had been translated from slate to papyrus - and did not talk for a long while as they worked. The Priest could tell that his liege lord had something to say to him - they may not have grown up together, but they had worked together for long enough - but if Atem was not going to tell him, he was not going to be the one to ask. He had a good idea of what it was regarding, nonetheless.
"Seth." Atem rolled up the scroll he had been reading and looked at his cousin. "About the boy…"
"I have already agreed to take care of him, Atem, I don't see what more there is to discuss," Seth said stiffly.
"That." Atem glared at him. "That, in itself, is something to discuss. If you have any reservations about caring for this boy at all, you must let us know. Given what has happened in the past, it is understandable if you are uncomfortable…"
"Begging your pardon, Pharaoh, but I do not wish to discuss this further."
Seth gathered up his work and made to leave the library, jaw clenched. His headache had returned with a vengeance. If he didn't leave the room now, he was going to say something he would regret later. But Atem was not about to let him get away that easily.
"I know about Kisara."
The silence that followed was thick with tension that could have been cut with a dagger. Seth had not moved from where he was by the door - his back facing Atem, who had gotten to his feet in preparation for following him out. He could see how the Priest's back and shoulders had stiffened in anger at the mention of Kisara's name. It was a subject that was forbidden in Seth's presence, but Atem knew it was one that had to be broached at some point. He gestured widely with his arm.
"You're letting her memory devour you alive!" Frustrated that he was getting no response from Seth, Atem continued mercilessly. "Kisara is dead, Seth. You have to let her go. The boy will only serve as a constant reminder of her - you don't need that!"
Seth whirled around, furious.
"Maybe you should have thought of that before you agreed with Mahad! Don't pretend to be concerned about my welfare when you were the one who asked if I was willing to take the boy into my care! I never wanted to!"
"Then don't!" Atem took a deep, shuddering breath and continued in a calmer tone. "I can arrange for another to take care of him."
"You know I cannot." Seth's eyes were downcast. "Not when we know he houses the spirit of the White Dragon in his ka. I cannot let the power he possesses to fall into the hands of another.She wouldn't want that to happen." He raised his head to meet Atem face to face and his eyes were narrowed with determination. "I have to do this, Atem. Please."
"Fine." Atem passed a hand over his face, sighing in resignation. "I cannot prevent you from going ahead with this if you are so determined. But if ever you feel as if you need help, please let me know."
"Thank you…Atem."
Atem watched him leave, a sense of foreboding and worry filling him. He had not personally met Kisara, but he had seen how her very existence had changed him - how agonising it was for Seth to watch, helpless, as she died before his eyes. He remembered the rage and grief that had consumed him on the battlefield and how it continued to torture him to this very day. But he also knew Seth was strong, resilient enough to overcome the pain of her loss and move on with his life. But now with Ryou's sudden appearance, with his pale complexion and hair, Atem was no longer sure. He had to do something to ensure Seth's wellbeing.
He had to talk to Akhenadin.