A/N: Hello, Yutaan here, back from the dead with an old-new fic. This one was started several years ago, dropped for about a year, and now I've picked it up again and decided it's high time I posted it. This is my first and only attept at a Yu-Gi-Oh fic, so please don't flame me. Every time you flame a fic, a penguin is eaten by a seal.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. I mean, can you imagine how badly I'd screw it up if I created it?

Prologue: Admonition

The young man could hear a constant drumming in his head, in his throat and chest. His heart was speeding, pumping energy through his body as he ran. He could feel sharp, hot blasts from behind him; hear calling and taunting, and a few panicked cries. He ignored them all.

He felt sand melting at his heels, turning to glass. His chest ached, and the old cuts burned on his back. The harsh air of the desert, searing with cold, chafed his throat, but he drew it gladly, knowing that as long as it scraped at his mouth and lungs, he was still alive for another moment.

Pain. He was used to pain, but the searing slash thrown across his side startled him, and he fell, tucking his head under and taking the blow of hard-packed sand below his shoulder, like he had been taught. He rolled nimbly and was up again in another instant, racing as fast as he could on legs shaky from hidden fear and strain.

The river was ahead, its dark, cold depths glowing silver-surfaced in the moonlight. He drew air and dived, numbing water wrapping around his body. He swam underwater for as long as his breath allowed, knowing that he was safer there, and as soon as he rose his pursuers would be able to target him. When need for air finally drove him upward, he was a quarter way across the great river, and had been tugged several lengths downstream.

Shouts broke out, and he pushed himself harder, jaw set, flashing eyes trained on the opposite shore. They knew where he was going, knew it quite well. It was simply a matter of whether they could catch him before he reached his destination.

Water bubbling, hissing. The incantations of the hunters hummed through the night air. A sudden, deep roar rose from the river, and a sharp explosion of water swirled past his feet. A dark shape turned and sped head-on toward him, teeth and eyes gleaming in the moonlight, fins pumping at the frigid liquid.

A mirthless grin passed over the young man's face. He knew their tricks, their games. He had played them for too long now, and had absorbed the rules, laws of their little pastimes. He could play in this contest just as well as the rest of them.

Warmth gathered in his palm, just as he had practiced, and he swiped the pale hair from his eyes, rising halfway from the water, exposing vulnerable chest, throat, stomach to the water-hunter. It screeched, anticipating sacrifice, and barreled forward.

He drew his arm back, hand blazing with fiery heat now, and then swung, releasing the energy in a low arc, straight toward the monster's forehead.

It took the space of a heartbeat to react, and then suddenly the great predatory animal was howling, its red gills opened wide and its toothy mouth pulled into a shrill scream. It thrashed in the water, churning waves high, its spiked tail flashing in and out as though seeking its tormentor.

The smile remained, even as the weapons on the tail buried themselves in his forearm. The game's round was his. As the great fish's corpse sank beneath the water and cries of shock and fury sounded from the shore behind, he began to swim again. His arms pumped smoothly at the water and the long hair trailed, legs striking into the wake again and again, piercing the thin red cloud streaming from his side and arm.

The opposite shore. He reached for the reeds sprouting from its sandy banks and pulled himself upward, the river's droplets rolling from his body and dotting the ground. Sand stuck to his ankles and calves as he continued, this time at a walk, toward the final destination. There would be no more chase. The hunters would return to their home and prepare, while he - the prey - escaped to his own place and do what must be done.

Now that the hunt was over, a change came over him. His steps were fast but heavy, and his shoulders hunched. He was not eager to reach this goal, but it was his duty. It was a matter of self-respect and obligation to other potential quarry.

The sky was lightening, preparing itself for day, when he finally trudged into the city. Stone buildings rose up on all sides, causing a sensation of being trapped to well up almost unnoticed within him. It was an acquired feeling.

There. She stood as she always did before sunrise, water jar balanced on one hip, basket in hand. Her dress slipped down to reveal her shoulders, smooth and of carved perfection that one rarely saw in a woman so young. She was kneeling beside her small stone house, taking the basket into her hand, preparing for her daily journey to the river.

She heard him, and turned, confusion creasing her face. Upon seeing him, her mouth opened into a circle and both basket and clay jar dropped to the sand with a dull thump. She took in the bloodied arm and side, the water still dripping from the hair and clothing, the eyes blazing and dark, a strange expression on his face. "What -?"

He didn't let her continue. "They're coming," he said. His voice was forcedly flat, grinding along at his throat and tongue before finally escaping through clenched teeth.

"What? They - they can't be - when?"

"They'll be here by dawn. Maybe a little later."

"You're sure?"

He nodded, eyes on hers but not really sharing the view with them. "Yes."

"I - I - oh - but the armies aren't ready!"

Now his voice was hard, frightening monotone gone. "Look, this isn't a choosing matter. They're ready, they're more ready than our armies will ever be. It's either call their challenge or let ourselves be stormed."

"…All right." Her voice had returned to its usual smooth steadiness. "I'll go and tell the pharaoh. He'll call the men out." She turned and began running, feet still bare, leaping over stones and discarded jars.

He still stood there, chest moving in and out, not from the chase. He turned slightly so that he faced the direction his home was in, where his little brother was sleeping, unaware of what had happened during the night. The older brother was grateful for that; if the younger one had seen any part of what had occurred, it would require explaining, and he couldn't bring himself to lie to his little brother, not if he had seen. And explaining would mean the truth. The truth was too dangerous. For them both.

The sun taunted the city, flickering, and finally lifted itself above the horizon, stretching its tongues of light over the sands and river. Somewhere, far into the Red Lands, cloaks rustled, incantations were muttered. And here in the city - there was only sleep. A final sleep for some. Men would die. Women and children would die.

And he was partly to blame.

He turned toward Ra, the sun-god, as he never did, and he bowed and prayed for forgiveness.

It had begun.

So, that is the prologue. I realize it didn't make much sense, so I'll post the first chapter as soon as possible, ne? Thank you for reading! Please review!

A note: this fic will be long. Very, very long. It will also be confusing, and until the end, there will be plot arcs and secrets which will be impossible to understand. Just be assured that I do know where I'm going, and I won't leave you in the dark when the story ends. So please, be patient with me and try to accept the story as it goes along. All will be revealed.