The Pharoah
A young Atemu seems to struggle understanding his future role in the world as Pharoah of a mighty Egyptian empire. What happens when other powerful men view see this weakness as an opportunity? Noncanon, 'The Godfather'-ish.
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Alright, been awhile since I've been around the Yugioh fics, so...here I go, wish me luck. Obviously, while the general idea may be the same, the details of the plot in this fic do not match up with canon, but it's not impossible to imagine, I suppose...anyway, just go with it.
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Chapter One: Favor Day
"You know what happened today?" Seto asked, seated on a delicately carved wooden chair, his elbows propped up on the reading table in front of him, looking straight ahead at his companion opposite him. He was looking down at a large book, open on the table, staring at the lines of black text on white paper, but looked unfocused. As if he was not actually reading anything at all.
"I took a walk in the gardens." Atemu responded quickly.
"...well, no-" Seto began, but was quickly cut off by the prince.
"No, that...that definitely happened today. I most certainly recall taking a walk in the gardens today." He nodded shortly, still looking at the book with unfocused eyes. "Yes, most certainly."
Seto pursed his lips. "Okay. Fine. That happened, but...you know what else happened?"
"I ate a roasted pig for lunch." Atemu replied again.
"No...no, ermm..." He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the index finger of his left hand. "Okay, okay. You know what happened today, the happening of which did not happen to you, nor anyone around you, nor was it anything you could have known about."
"If this happening did not happen to me, nor anyone around me, nor was it anything I could have known about..." he slowly looked up at Seto. "...I wonder why you are asking me if I know."
Seto took a large, heaving breath. "Anyway. Today, the Sinuhe returned, the treasure of Khufu in their possession."
Atemu seemed at least mildly interested by this, not returning his gaze back to the book at least. "You don't say."
"Rubies the size of onions." Seto gave a small smile. "Staffs of solid gold, with great diamonds mounted on top. Dishes of silver. Truly a find."
"Now..." Atemu propped his right hand up to his chin. "As I recall, I bet on the Sistrum team to find it." He shrugged his shoulders. "Shame."
"I had Aramna." Seto replied. "But who had Sinuhe..."
"Well, whoever did, it would be their responsibility to remember." Atemu said.
"Indeed." Seto agreed.
Atemu glanced to his right, out the large window right beside him, which gave a view to the long winding pathway up to the palace entrance. On the stone path, a long line of people stretched, perhaps for miles, as they went even beyond Atemu's sight, off into the city. Many wore dirty and tattered clothing, the likes of which Atemu had never had to even think about wearing.
"You haven't forgotten already, have you?" Seto asked, noting the expression of slight confusion he wore.
"And if I have?" Atemu replied, a small smile crossing his face for a split second before fading.
"The peasants decorate our palace path in anticipation of tomorrow's special day." Seto said, standing up from his chair and moving around the table, to similiarly gaze down at the masses on the stone below. "It comes just once a year. Virtually every peasant...hell, even the commoners and perhaps the occasional nomarch comes to stand in line. Some arrive many days before, but most arrive only on the night before." Seto cleared his throat. "This day represents a beacon of hope to the less fortunate, who dream of waking up one morning to a dreary existence, and waking up the next morning to a life of luxury, without worry."
"Ah yes." Atemu finally spoke. "Favor day."
Seto snorted. "An awful layman way of terming it. A prince should at least refer to it by it's proper title."
"Well, that's what it is." Atemu insisted, waving his hand dismissively. "A day on which favors are granted. I see nothing wrong with calling it simply that."
"Fair enough." Seto conceded. "Can you imagine?" He pondered, looking down at the teeming mass. "Having to wait in line, then beg, to get things you want? To get things you need?"
"I'd rather not." Atemu replied. "How many of them do you think actually get audiences?"
"Perhaps five hundred. At best." Seto said thoughtfully. "Imagine waiting in a line all night, only to never actually get to the front. How many of them do you think are granted their request?"
"Half that. Perhaps even two hundred." Atemu estimated.
"Conservative."
"Well, it's my father granting requests. Two hundred might even be liberal." Atemu snickered. "Were I Pharoah, I'd simply have the servants empty one of the treasure chambers, scatter the valuables across Thebes, and call that an adequate favor day."
"And that, my friend, is why you are merely a prince." Seto replied. "There's more to the world than just gold and gems."
"Not much else." Atemu countered. "Besides, I think my idea displays a much kinder and generous side to the public than this."
"And that." Came a deep, husky voice from behind them. "Is precisely why that idea is not used."
Atemu turned around quickly to face Shada, who had snuck up quietly behind the two of them, undetected.
"Kindness and generousity are not to be handed out freely to the subjects." Shada continued, slowly walking up towards them. "There's another word for that sort of thing."
"Weakness?" Atemu finished. "Straight from my father's mouth."
"Well, your father is a great, wise, and respected Pharoah. So there are worse places to get advice from." Shada said.
"Ah, Shada." Atem sighed, laying back into his chair. "I see you're hard at work at developing your role within my inner circle one day."
"Whatever do you mean, my prince?" Shada asked, smiling slightly as he spoke.
"Yes." He put his open hand out in front of him, moving it from left to right slowly as he spoke. "Shada: The sober yin to Pharoah Atemu's raging yang. The wise, rational Priest Shada, always keeping the childish and selfish desires of Pharoah Atemu on a leash, guiding the hand of our young leader."
"Is that a promise?" Shada asked slowly. "You're a little young to already be picking out the priests of your inner circle, I think."
"Well, no sense in beating around the bush." Atemu said, looking off to his left at the wall. "I've grown up around you guys since I was little. You've always been there for me. Maybe I'm just a fool, but I can't imagine anything else. I'll be at the top, with my six members of the inner circle." He cleared his throat dramatically. "Of course, you have Priest Seto-"
"Priest in training, I think." Seto corrected.
Atemu shrugged. "Well, if you fail the test, I'll pull some strings with...whoever tests such things. Anyway, Priest Seto, Priest Shada, Priest Mahad, Priest Karim, Priestess Isis, and Priest Buhen."
"Quite a bit of youth on that list." Seto pointed out. "Imagine, a reign most notably marked by the wild nights. Parties across the land, thousands of gallons of beer consumed daily, the brothel business increases tenfold..."
"Well, at least we'll be remembered." Atemu pointed out.
"Now." Shada said slowly. "I believe it was I who had Sinuhe in the pool."
Atemu gave a small smile. "So it was."
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'Favor Day', better known as "Aknamkanon's Day", as it was a day of his creation, was as Seto had phrased it. Indeed, to the teeming masses who lived in poverty, to those who suffered at the hands of others, perhaps even themselves, to anyone who lacked something they needed or wanted, this was the ray of hope.
Pharoah Aknamkanon had made a discovery during his reign, in the early years. A vast majority of his subjects lived in depression. The slaves, peasants, and commoners would gaze upon the great palace of The Pharoah, the mansions of the highly ranked nomarchs and viziers, and would dream about such a life. But only dream. Slaves would stay as slaves. Peasants would stay as peasants. Commoners would stay as commoners. As would their children, and their children's children. A life was set from the moment it began, and until the life ended. There was no hope of breaking away from it.
Aknamkanon held no pity for these masses, of course. But that aside, with no room to dream of a better life, the productivity and general state of his kingdom suffered. So, Aknamkanon's Day was created.
Indeed, it was simple. You arrived at the palace doors as early as twenty days before the date, and waited. Most people didn't come that early, and anyone coming earlier was turned away. You waited, often fighting over places in line with others who came. It was your responsibility to hold your place in line, no palace guard would step in to solve disputes regarding such things, unless there was the threat of a death.
If you waited in line, held your place close enough to the front, and managed to avoid killing or being killed, you might just have your wish granted. Individually, or in small groups if appropriate, the masses were ushered into the throne room. Indeed a vast majority of these people had never even thought of the possibility of stepping into this holy room, much less for an audience with the Pharoah.
Well, it wasn't always the Pharoah. For the sake of moving things along, each person or group would see one of several high ranking individuals. The Pharoah, The King, The Vizier, The High Priest, and perhaps a few high-ranking Nomarchs. Depending on luck of the draw, you'd get one of these, any of them capable of granting your wish, or refusing you.
You would step before whoever it was who would be doing the granting or refusing, and state your request, showing all the assumed and expected courtesies of someone in the presence of one much greater than you. It wasn't that simple, though. After your request, you would be asked questions. Sometimes just one, sometimes many. Why do you desire this? What would you use it for? Why do you deserve it? That sort of thing.
Some asked for land. Others for gold. Perhaps food. Maybe help in an endeavor. Sometimes the means with which to start an endeavor. You could, indeed, ask for just about any favor you could imagine. You could even ask for revenge against someone who had wronged you. If the circumstances permitted, it was even known that some asked for someone to be killed.
And then, you would be granted your request, or denied it. Regardless of which, you were expected to leave immediately, either knowing your life was about to get much better, or knowing you would be standing in line just like this next year, with the same request on mind, hoping to get a different high ranking individual. And that was that. It was a relatively slim chance, but it was something. There was, at the very least, the opportunity to change your fortunes and your life.
At the end of the day, many many thousands never had the chance to even get an audience, and were simply turned away, told to go home and continue on with their lives. Again, this was expected to be done without complaint and with complete understanding that this was how things were done. After all, under previous rulers, such an opportunity was completely unheard of.
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"I know you probably get many...crazed claims of treasure from peasants such as myself, but I really do believe what this journal says is true." A nameless man, kneeled on the carpet just in front of the dais before the Pharoah, continued. "This journal has been in our family for years, and I have always longed to go and seek the treasure this journal claims to be hidden far off in the deserts. But I have never been able to mount the manpower or equipment needed for such a long journey."
"Interesting." The Pharoah admitted. He sat on his throne, clad in his regal attire, glinting in the midday sun thanks to the jewelry he wore around his arms, ankles, neck and head. He actually wore little else, as was normal in Egypt owing to the heat. He wore a small tunic and undergarments that did nothing more than provide modest protection, and brown slippers. "I presume you intend to ask for said manpower and equipment?"
"Yes, my Pharoah." The man replied.
"And you say this Journal was...found. Not paid for, nor traded for...simply found in a...cave, was it?"
"Yes. I believe the explorer died in the cave, due to some manner of beast."
"I think I will grant this. Does a 50/50 split sound acceptable?" Aknamkanon inquired, as if there was a choice in the matter.
"Of course. Thank you." He bowed slightly further down towards the ground, then slowly got up and left the room from whence he came, not turning his back on the Pharoah.
"I could have done this." Atemu growled from behind and a little to the right of the throne. Aknamkanon glanced behind him. Two guards flanked either side of the throne, scythes and knifes at the ready, wearing the customary simple attire of the palace guards. A simple tunic covered their torso and brown sandals were on their feet. Behind the guard on the right, Atemu was leaning against the back wall, watching the proceedings. "You ask a couple questions and say yes or no. More would get done faster if I was helping."
"You'd drive the kingdom into bankruptcy." Aknamkanon responded. "I'd accomplish the same if I used a small toddler who only knew how to speak one word: Yes."
"Father, I have seen the vaults downstairs. No one man could drive this kingdom into bankruptcy." Atemu said playfully.
"Well, if ever one could, it would be my son." Aknamkanon said. "Don't feel bad, son. There are very few people I trust with this task. One day you will be old enough and mature enough to take it on."
"Of course." Atemu said. "My way isn't just 'different'...it has to be 'wrong' as well."
"You're learning!" The Pharoah exclaimed. "But seriously, son, you...need a cold streak about you for a task like this. I've crushed hundreds of dreams, sitting in this chair, carrying out this task. I've looked into the eyes of the desparate, the dying, the starving. I've heard them profess their dreams, their desires, tell me what they need, what they want...and then, I've looked them right into the eyes, seen all the pain and suffering there...seen the beacon of hope in there, hoping beyond hope their dreams are finally to be answered...and then, I have said no and sent them away."
"Oh please." Atemu said dismissively. "What makes you so sure I feel so much as a drop of pity for these commoners? I'm a prince, spoiled rotten all my life. I can be cold and heartless. You sure seem convinced otherwise, I can't help but wonder why."
"Because," he smiled "were it up to you, you'd have the servants empty one of the treasure chambers, scatter the valuables across Thebes, and call that an adequate' favor day'."
Atemu blinked a few times in confusion.
"I know of all things that come to pass within these palace walls, son. Now why don't you run off and leave thoughts of responsibility as Pharoah to another time?" Aknamkanon waved his hand casually. And Atemu did, indeed, decide to run off. It was, indeed, quite boring after the first few dozen requests.