Just a repost. I messed up. Um this is my first story under this name. I hope that you all like it.

Summary∫For years, Lord Moto's family has thought that Yugi perished with Lady Moto in storm-tossed seas off the Mediterranean coast. Unknown to them, the beautiful spiky-haired todler had been found and taken to the palace of Alexandria, where he was raised as the ruler's own child. Now the pharaoh, Ankamon, has contacted the family and asked that they send a ship for him. Why after all this time?

Yamir Atemu, friend of the Motos and appealing young captain of the vessel, gazes at Yugi as he comes aboard. It will not be easy for the restless boy to accept a new life...a new family. Yami puts aside these thoughts as he turns his ship to the sea. For now, Yugi is going home. What lies ahead is in Ra's hands.

Disclaimer: I really don't want to own Yu-Gi-Oh. Is that okay?

Prologue

London 1832

The casket dipped precariously into the hands of the sailors as it was carried toward the docks. Lord Zacharias Moto, Marquess of Woodbine, watched their progress and flinched in pain, even though his wife couldn't feel a thing. The ship he had been on for weeks now held a type of solace. His eyes followed the path of the sailors down the gangway, yet he couldn't force himself to leave.

A massive couch pulled up behind the hearse that the casket was now being loaded onto. Lord Moto recognized it immediately, but still made no move to disembark. Not until the tanned, lined face of his father appeared in the window did he finally force himself to move.

He came to the window of the coach, it's height and his own placing their faces level to one another.

"Is it true? What your message said?"

"It's true; Katharine is dead."

"And Yugi?" he whispered.

Zacharias shook his head. "There was no trace of him."

The older man, small as he was, seemed to deflate before his eyes. "I can't believe it Zach. If he were gone as well, then I would feel it inside me. I just can't believe-"

Zach's eyes were filled with compassion. He'd had weeks to acclimate himself to the death of his wife and young son, but for the rest of his family, the news was only hours old. Zach joined his father in the coach, praying that he would be able to accept the death of his tiny namesake. He knew that until he did, there would be no chance for his heart to heal.

His thoughts were drawn away from his father as the coach lurched into motion, moving to the faces of his other three children. They would have to be told, and swiftly, that their mother and youngest brother were dead.