I've been thinking about this story for long and have finally decided to write it down and post it here. I simply thank that there are way too little Mahad/Isis stories out there, I mean this couple is way more realistic than Seto/Isis (no offence to those who like that couple, I myself am a reader for such stories), and there are only about seven stories about them. So now I'm going to do something about it. Behold, my second Mahad/Isis story.

Chapter One – The Arrival to the Palace

Isis cast a longing glance at her home that now slowly faded into the horizon as she was led away.

A tear slid down her cheek as she watched her family's house merge with the rest of the village.

What had happened was that a couple of travelers had come to her village and had asked for shelter for the night and her father had agreed to let them sleep at their family's.

And from that point on things had gone out bad for her.

Her father was a poor fisherman and feeding the family was bad enough, now they would have to feed the travelers too. Sadly that meant that she and her little brother were sent to bed without dinner because there wasn't enough food for all of them. And she had to comfort her brother, who cried in hunger when they went to bed. When her brother had fallen asleep she had put him to bed and gone to bed herself but she hadn't been able to fall asleep because of her curiosity for the traveling strangers that were guests in her family's house.

So she had just lay still in bed and listened to the conversation that went on in the other room. She could clearly hear the conversation going on between the grownups. First the weather was the topic but it quickly changed into politics and suddenly, she didn't know how it had come up, she was the subject being discussed. And somehow it was revealed that the two travelers were slave traders who were on the verge of losing everything because they were out of slaves and almost out of money. How her father had been talked into selling her she didn't know and she didn't care either, if she was to be honest with herself, what mattered most was how she was going to get out of this mess, and besides, her father's reasons weren't that hard to guess, she wasn't normal, sometimes she would freeze in place and see things, strange things, and she knew that her father was ashamed of her, and he would tell her so when they got home after a trip to the market where people had seen her freeze.

She wondered what her mother would have said if she had been alive. What would she have thought of this? And how was her brother? Was he all right? And who would do the cleaning of the house now when she was gone?

Well, she thought as another tear slipped down her cheek, she would never know because she would never come back home, she was no longer free to do what she wanted, she was no longer her own mistress, she was now a slave.

Oh, how could her own father do this to her?

When Ra had once again passed into the afterlife and left the sky dark with shining stars looking down at her she was exhausted. She had walked all day and several times she wasn't sure how much more she could take before the effort would kill her.

"Alright I think it's time to rest for the night," one of the slave traders said and dismounted his horse. The other slave trader groaned in agreement and copied the actions of his partner and dismounted his horse.

The relief that Isis felt when she heard them was so great that she didn't recall to ever having been more relieved than at the moment and she felt herself fall down on her hands and knees and panted.

"Tired aren't we?"

Isis barely managed to look up. One of the slave traders had gone over to her.

She didn't know if it was a rhetorical question or if she was even permitted to speak, she knew by seeing them stand in rows at the market some times that slaves rarely spoke to their master, she saw them look at each other, casting lost glances of unhappiness but never did she hear them speak. So she decided to stay silent.

It looked like she had been right about not speaking because the slave trader only smiled and went back to his horse. "You should get some rest, there's a lot of distance to travel tomorrow".

Isis whimpered, but not loud enough for the men to hear it. She hugged her upper body tight to get a little warmth and curled into a ball on the sand ground. This was going to be a tough night, she was freezing, she was exhausted, alone and betrayed, the only comfort was that at the moment she could rest instead of pushing her legs to keep walking non-stop for a whole day.

"Here," she heard a voice say and she felt fabric hit her body and she pulled it off to look at it. It was a blanket, and a nicely thick one at that. One of the slave traders had thrown her a blanket. Why would he do that? She was only a slave now, so why would she be treated like this? Why were they being so kind to her? She had not received one single slap nor kick or any other form of physical abuse since she left her home, wasn't that unusual for a slave? She remembered seeing slaves with bruises and cuts, and sometimes-even blood, on their bodies and most of them were pretty skinny from lack of food, so why was she treated differently?

Still unsure about speaking she just thought the words 'thank you' and put the blanket tightly around her shivering body.

She wondered how her brother and father were doing. She hoped that they were doing well without her and she hoped that her brother wouldn't feel too lonely when her father would go to work; she hoped that he would take his son with him. She already missed them and she let a tear escape from her eyes as she reminded herself that she would never see either of them again.

Isis woke up when she felt someone taking the blanket off her and she blinked her eyes open and stared right up at the sun that cast its golden rays of heat down on the desert sands.

She moaned tiredly and stretched her arms. Suddenly she let out a yelp of surprise when she took a good look at her surroundings. It took a little while before she remembered yesterday's events and to stop asking herself why she wasn't in her bed. When realization dawned upon her she looked down at her chained feet and sighed with longing. She wished that she could hug her little brother, that was what she would usually do when she felt sad, not saying he was some kind of toy to her, he was just the only one who was really there to comfort her when she needed it, her mother died after giving birth to her brother, she was only five back then, now, five years later her brother was the one who was closest to her, because her father had never been there for her, not ever.

Isis brushed a tear away from her face quickly.

"Good to see you're up," a voice said.

She turned her head in the direction of the voice and caught sight of one of the slave traders. She looked at him expectantly.

"Did you get enough rest last night?" the slave trader asked.

She stayed quiet. Thinking that the slave trader was just being rhetorical.

"Well?"

"Y-yes sir," she replied hesitantly, still afraid that speaking to her new master was a mistake.

"Good," the slave trader said, "we still have some distance to travel today". He tossed her a piece of bred. "Eat up," he commanded, "you'll need some strength".

She nodded and bit into the bred hungrily. She thought that apparently not all slave owners were treating their slaves badly. She thought herself to be very lucky at the moment, well as lucky as a slave could be.

They traveled for hours non-stop and Isis was getting tired in her legs but she ignored the ache in her ankles, wanting to be good for her new masters, or all she really wanted was avoiding abuse.

"At this pace we'll reach the capital by nightfall," one of the slave traders said a couple of hours later.

Isis felt both relieved and frightened. She was relieved because she was unsure of how much more she could walk before her legs would give under her. But she didn't like thinking about what might happen to her once she got to the capital, that was without doubt where the traders wanted to sell her and she didn't know to whom. She felt a small shiver down her spine as she thought of it, what if her new owner would abuse her or worse? Would she be forced to work away her energy for the rest of her life, which she didn't know how long would be.

When the sun had left the sky and had gotten replaced by the moon Isis noticed that they were on a hill, and from it she could see many sand-colored buildings below. That must be the capital, she thought. And right she was. She spotted a building that was much larger and much better looking than the others. She figured that it had to be the Pharaoh's palace, she remembered her parents telling her about it. The palace was the biggest building in Egypt; it was where the Pharaoh and the sacred court lived. She couldn't believe that she was actually able to look at it now, it was amazing.

The slave traders decided to camp on the hill and go to the city the next day. Isis agreed with them, though she didn't tell them, being careful about speaking to any of the men, she had not spoken a word since that morning. She was given some bred and water that she hungrily and thirstily devoured. After that she was again given a blanket and she curled herself into a ball and held the blanket tightly around her to keep the cold out. She fell asleep rather quickly.

Isis woke up the next morning feeling the sun's golden rays being cast down on her and she sighed in delight as she noticed that the daily heat had returned. Her mood dropped as she realized what was in store for her today and hence she wanted to keep sleeping for a while longer but she didn't dare, afraid to upset the slave traders so she sat up and turned to look at the slave traders and their horses. One of them was watering the horses while the other one was packing the saddlebags.

She took the blanket off her and went to just stare at her temporary masters because she was afraid to do anything without being told to.

When the slave trader, who was watering the horses was done he turned to look at her.

"Good you're up, we'll head for the city in a moment, give Hadar your blanket and we'll leave".

Isis nodded and took the blanket and went over to the other slave trader with it.

Hadar, who was about to close the saddlebag glared at her and took the blanket from her. "You could have given it to me sooner," he snapped and opened the saddlebag to find room for the blanket.

Isis walked back to the other trader, afraid that Hadar would hit her if she didn't get out of his sight quickly. She had immediately noticed that the two slave traders were different in attitude, Hadar was unkind and unfriendly while the other trader, which she had not yet learned the name of, gave her food and water and a blanket to sleep under at night, he was kind to her and didn't treat her as a slave, except for the chains around her ankles, but she remembered the regretful look on his face when he chained her. Neither of the two abused her but she had a feeling that Hadar might have wanted to but was prevented from doing so, maybe by his partner.

She looked down on the city, it was way bigger than her village, part of her was getting anxious to explore it but the other part of her feared going there, she didn't want to be sold on a market as a slave.

Someone behind her cleared his throat. She gasped and turned her head to look at the friendly trader. "We are ready to leave".

She nodded and followed him to the horses.

The city felt even bigger from the inside and Isis, even though frightened by its size, looked at her surroundings curiously as she walked. The city also seemed to have more population than her village.

She watched with curious eyes as people walked past her with bags and baskets filled with stuff bought at the market, a couple of people glared at her without reason.

She was amazed by the shops on the market that was way bigger than the one in her village, here it was filling an entire street while in her village you could only buy food and drinks and a couple of other small things, if one needed anything else one would have to travel to another village to get it.

"I think I see the slave market over there," Hadar murmured to his partner and Isis gulped, having been so occupied with the surroundings that she had forgotten what they were actually doing here.

She saw the other slave trader nod.

Isis looked down at her chained feet and focused her gaze on the ground for the rest of the walk. She looked up when the men had stopped and looked into the direction they were looking in. She shivered as she saw the people, wearing nothing but rags, standing in line.

Suddenly her vision went black and then she saw herself standing in line with the other slaves with a wooden sign around her neck with hieroglyphics written on it. A man walked over to her and traced the sign with his fingers before gripping her wrists to get a closer look at her hands. After letting go he turned his head to someone and nodded.

"Why did you stop? Keep moving, child," Hadar said and pushed her forward with a force that almost made her fall forward. Isis nodded and walked forward slowly in shock. She just saw something again. But this time it had been different, this time she saw herself, which had never occurred before, she had only seen other people, often strangers or people she knew, though by appearance and not name. This time she had seen herself, standing between the other slaves and being looked at by costumers and then sold to a man. What was wrong with her?

"Here we are," Hadar said. There was a fraction of relief in his voice and Isis thought that he was relieved to have finally made it to the slave market after the tiring journey.

She didn't know how long she had been standing in line before a wooden sign was put around her neck but she didn't care either, in a way she just wanted to get this over with. She didn't even move her head to look at the other slaves as she was pushed in line between two men.

Standing there was horrible, there were lots of costumers who kept coming and leaving and they all looked at her and the others like they were just items, tools for them to use and tread as they pleased.

She cast occasional glances at the slave traders, who were standing not far away from her. A man came over to them and they exchanged a few words that Isis didn't hear. Then the man went over to her and examined her with his gaze before tracing the wooden prize sign around her neck with his fingers. He grabbed her wrists to examine her hands. "Hm," he murmured to himself. "Her hands show that she does have experience with working, she would fit well in the kitchen". Isis shivered; it was just like her vision.

The man turned his head to the slave traders and nodded. "I'll take this girl".

The man paid the slave traders some coins before taking a rope from his belt and tying her hands with it. If Isis was to be honest the rope wasn't necessary, she wouldn't dare to escape, she was too scared to disobey anyone, well knowing that it would never end good if she tried. She let the man drag her with him.

After about ten minutes of walking the man stopped outside a big majestic building. Isis looked up at it in amazement. It was the biggest building that she had ever seen. She noticed that some men were blocking the entrance. They were strangely dressed; they were wearing headgears made of white cloth along with white kilts and nothing more. They were also armed with long sticks with pointy pieces of rock attached to the ends.

The man raised his hand and the men moved away to make room for them. The big gates were opened and they made their way through them. They were now standing in an enormous garden, the biggest garden that Isis had ever seen. She stopped to look around and admire the beauty of all the plants and pillars and she lost herself in how beautiful it all was and hence she gasped in surprise when the man dragged her along, almost causing her to trip over her own feet.

From the garden she was dragged through a corridor. The walls were made of fine bricks and Isis thought it to be amazing that she was going to be in such a fine and beautiful house.

As she walked with the man through various corridors and rooms she saw people walking past them, all of them wearing white clothes and carrying jars, bowls with fruit and all kinds of other stuff. Isis was eyeing each person curiously, wondering who they were and what their business was, if they were slaves or if they were the owners of this big house or guests.

Finally the man stopped outside a wooden door. He took a hold of the knob and opened the door.

"I've brought another slave to assist you, Beset," he said. He was given some kind of reply that Isis didn't hear.

"Get in there, girl," the man ordered, his voice being anything but friendly.

Isis obeyed and walked through the door. She heard the door being slammed shut behind her.

"So," a voice said, "you are the new kitchen girl?"

Isis looked at the person who had spoken. It was an elderly woman, about fifty years of age with black hair that was gray at the roots.

"I-it app-pears so, ma'am," Isis said hesitantly.

"Do you know how to cook?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Isis said, "I used to cook supper for my father and little brother.

"How old are you, child?"

"I'm ten years old," Isis replied.

The older woman looked surprised for a moment. "And what is your name?"

"Isis".

"Well Isis, I am Beset and I am the one cooking the Pharaoh's meal," the elderly woman said.

"Pharaoh?" Isis asked, not being able to contain herself.

"Yes, this is where the Pharaoh lives, this is his palace," the woman, now identified as Beset said.

Isis was amazed; she was actually working in the Pharaoh's palace? She wondered what her family would say if they knew.

"So Isis," Beset said, snapping the little girl out of her thoughts, "it appears that we will be working together now, you can start with peeling those potatoes," she gestured towards a bowl with potatoes on one of the tables.

"Ehm, Beset?"

"What is it child?"

Isis held up her tied wrists.

"Oh, I see, Khaddar can be forgetful some times," Beset said and helped Isis untie her wrists so that she could use her hands again.

Isis thanked the woman and massaged her wrists that were all red from the tight robe and then untied the rope around her ankles.

"Here," Beset said, handing her a knife, "now get to work".

Comments are very much apreciated.