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Author's Note:

This is the third part of the Champion Cycle. To understand this story, it would be best to read "Champion - Director's Cut." This story comes after "Champion, Another," the sequel to "Champion - Director's Cut."

I hope you enjoy another trip into the world of of the Champion, it is definitely not a trip I planned when I wrote the Director's Cut, but I have enjoyed my stay.

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Champion, Quieted | Quieted Champion

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Prologue - Two for a Penny

The once illustrious but forever great pharaoh looked down at the mass of dirty whelps with an appraiser's eye. It was the latest shipment of unwashed toys sitting before him. They squirmed deliciously under his gaze, the weight of his magnificent presence nearly smothering them. Rags, filth, and living skeletons. Each one more sad and pathetic than the last. He couldn't decide if it was a boon or a shame that there were so many unwanted things in this world. Tossed out like so much garbage. Left alone in the wake of war and disease. Life had always been cheap, especially young lives, but he would give them each a glorious purpose. Whether in his belly or his bed. However… suddenly he found a little gem in all that refuse.

There, in the cowering heap of human mistakes, one little face drew his eye. They were…familiar.

They was just as sad, if more terrified, than the other little faces looking around, still in shock from their transport. They sat, sunken into a face that was covered with dirt and scum. Mottled lines ran down the cheeks illustrating the journey of a thousand tears. Tracks carved into one layer of filth and then colored by the next. But it wasn't the tracks, the filth, or the fresh tears running down the gaunt sallow cheeks which pulled Yami's attention. What made his eyes stop. What made his heart flutter. Was a pair of large purple eyes. They seemed to shine like little beacons in the darkness.

Eyes so much like ones he had seen so many ages hence. Eyes like his own. Eyes which quivered and blinked as fresh tears carved new tracks and followed old trails. Eyes which looked from around the protective arm of some other filthy little misbegotten.

Yami's eyes slid away from those perfect purple eyes which he was so smitten with. They came to rest upon blue eyes. Strange eyes. Eyes which even in this dire and strange situation, still managed the gall to be rebellious. They looked at him as if the child they were attached to might leap up and attack him if he dared to lay a finger on the purple eyed one.

Perfect little lips curled back from perfect little teeth. Fangs glittered even in the dim light.

He had seen eyes like those before, as well. Though they were blue, but they were not the right blue. He could perfectly remember the icy blue eyes which had shared that expression. Forever and an age ago there had been such an expression on a different little face.

The pharaoh sighed, wistfully. He was without his oldest accomplice. His favored advisor. One he might have even called 'friend.' He would have been helpful in these times but it mattered not. Yami knew precisely what Malik would have said.

Exquisitely formed features began to glow with joy and the master gestured to his new toys. "One to bend."

A large oaf kicked aside filthy things and grabbed the thin arm of the purple eyed child. Shrieks and wailing began in a hoarse chorus.

"And one to break."

Another slave dragged the blue eyed rebel up.

"The rest are disposable. Do what you will, but do not forget that the pantry needs to be refilled."

One to bend

One break

Two for a penny

And all the fun a pharaoh could make.