[Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Gi Oh, nor I do not own the Egyptian Gods. Who does? I dunno but I hope he wants to trade for pokemon cards]

I also apologize for not updating in a while. I had temporarily been reduced for my time on this computer, and found that writing was very awkward. Just write it off to Writer's Block.

By the Power of Isis

"Stupid Mai," he muttered.

Egypt was in turmoil. It's front gates had been breached and the last of the army was being annihilated. The pharaoh stood upon the high steps of the palace and peered at the incoming invasion, his head strewn with sweat. The high noon sun caressed his face until it burned him, just like his relations with the vindictive queen.

The year is 1669, early July. This marked the beginning of conquest by Queen Mai, now ruling over the British Empire with aggression and blind sightedness. Relations had spoiled between the two rulers after a brutal attack on a British province conquered from Egyptian soil. But now the Queen's vendetta was being eased. Using a newly designed tactic, the British placed the Egyptian capitol of Cairo under siege. With relentless showers of flaming arrows, the Egyptian army was poorly equipped for the surprise assault , suffering a massacre. The pharaoh immediately assembled his War Council to discuss tactics. Time was short, and it was estimated that in less then ½ a day, the enemy would march onto the palace steps themselves.

Around the Pharaoh sat his advisors: Joey his Foreign Minister; Seto his War Advisor; Mako his Political Consultant and Malik his future heir. The proceedings were depressing, and after an hour of debate, thought, and discussion, the Pharaoh had come to a decision. They were to flee Cairo, and seek refuge in the Sanctuary of Isis. The few who took shelter in the palace were instructed to follow the generals and with the Pharaoh leading the way, just over 25 people escaped the rampage of the British. From a far distance, an ash-tinted smoke painted the air dark with bloodshed. The fleers watched as Cairo was burnt to the ground.

It was still 2 days journey to the Sanctuary, and the British were bound to be searching for the missing Pharaoh. It was a hollow victory if the king wasn't on his knees in terror before her, or so believed the queen. The sand was hot, and every step was disgust than ran through his body.

'I shouldn't have left Cairo,' Pharaoh thought to himself. What shame he felt to have left his people at the mercy of Mai, and her forces. His headdress wore heavily on him, and although his followers felt obliged to help, he refused everything offered. Night dragged on, and the party began to grow weary of the long trek. With the few provisions they had brought with them from Cairo, the people were able to forage a meal for a night. It was nothing the Pharaoh would have eaten in his splendour, but this was a time of sacrifice, and he swallowed it apprehensively.

Daybreak was early and the ravaged peasants took little time in collecting themselves before setting out once again. Today was the day they would reach the safety of Isis' power. This day was no different than the last, with the sand searing against the skin that fought against it for support. Pharaoh was losing faith in his own survival, and their flee became more drawn out than expected.

After an entire day with no food or water, the group had been belittled to 18 members. Some died of heartbreak, others of exhaustion. Some simply of starvation, and with the little food they had eaten the previous night. But now at least they approached the pillaring citadel of Isis. In it's path, a large statue of a gorgeous woman embracing a snake around the contours of her body told trespassers to beware of her vengeance. Pharaoh led the people to the mammoth doors, and spoke his name to them. The sun began to darken, as if the moon shielded the earth from hearing. The doors slowly creaked open and he walked inside. He was closely followed by his people.

Inside it was very dark. The echo of footsteps rung against the walls of the holy place. Above them, they saw through the ceiling of glass and watched the moon unveil the sun, and pour its radiance into the temple. Before laid a banquet of bountiful foods. The sweetest corn that ever brought underneath the sky, filled their mouths with a saccharine taste. A prayer went from the hearts of the hungry people and prayed that Isis heard their thanks. But Pharaoh did not sit at the table. Not did he touch the food. He walked to the large tapestry of Isis and knelt before it. He prayed in native tongue to the beauty, and asked for protection. The was no response, but the Pharaoh knew that he had been heard. He collapsed into himself as exhaustion overtook him. His life hung in the balance. In his state of unconsciousness he heard someone, or something, calling out to him. No one ever spoke his name, never to hear the blasphemy of such disrespect. But inside him, his soul was touched by a woman, whose eyes showed great power and compassion.

"Yami," she whispered. "I am Isis."

Like? No? I took a more less detailed approach to this story. I like the plot, and characters. Give me some feedback!