Part I: Implantation

Chapter 1. Integration

"Listen carefully son," Aknamkanon, the contemporary Pharaoh, said solemnly to his younger companion, who wasn't entirely attentive to their discourse. When the fog has finally cleared out, he found himself drawn to the changing images, the new colors reflecting right in front of his sight. "When beings are born, a role specifically for them does as well, which they must uphold to the full extent of their lifetime."

Well-armed, royal guards accompanied their every step, as they stroll down town, examining every possible threat carefully. While there, they watched the natives from afar, waving back at him and dealing with their own daily businesses that differed greatly to those of the royal palace he used to call his home. From selling goods to buying them for their own profit, while complaining about the prices going up again, compared to the last season.

"We believe it to be chosen by the gods," He continued, and gradually, the sound of his voice began fading. "Your role was chosen as well, the moment you were born to a lineage of kings, that is your duty and your right."

"As I'm aware father." The prince beside him replied absent-mindedly. It wasn't everyday he was allowed to take a break from his tiring routine and leave the palace grounds. He wouldn't compromise to miss a thing out of it in regard to his father's words. But for that to happen, he had to let him hear what expected of him, "Someday, I'll have to claim your throne, won't I?"

Then, his eyes averted, fixed on a boy about his age, wearing a white headdress to protect his head against the rays of sun. As he carried a basket of goods along with him, the prince noted him stumbling over the burning sand which he stood at, and as a result, on top of that pile, a single apple had began rolling sideways, falling towards the direction of the ground. Hastily, he got off of his white foal, during his father's everlasting speech.

"Yes, you will. When you do, several decisions will have to be made, certain trials, that could affect your entire kingdom with one misguide," he said, and when no reply came shortly after, let a long an approving hum, Aknamkanon looked past his shoulder, watching the supposed prince holding out an apple to a child of settlers, which had an unusual color of blue in his glowing eyes.

The Pharaoh tried to suppress a smile back at the sight, but failed miserably. Knowing that his son was longer listening, he replied to himself, "And when you come across them, you'll have to put your personal feelings aside and choose what's right for the great of good, and for you people alone."

And for that moment, and that moment alone, Aknamkanon felt a strange tingling in his chest, and hoped whole heartedly that no matter what life had let him through this point, with no one to share the burden with, that the future for his son wouldn't be as tragic.

Seven Years Later...

The room was bright, with the slightest hint of dimness, aside from the dark figure visible through the balcony doors. Nothing could compete with the stars shining above though, which lit the entire kingdom that someday would be his, graciously. From the clean barren path that determined the boundaries of the Nile surrounding it, to the wooden torches marking each and every household made out of bricks and straw from afar, in a thick, winding line that was impossible to track completely.

A cool night breeze chilled the skin through his garment, as Atem solemnly trailed all of it with one finger pointing towards the skyline. The sight opposite the floor tile where he stood was almost breathtaking, unimaginable in every way unless his father used to remind him of it every so often. Those were days such as this, when the moon was round and full as everyone has gathered around it, willing to hear his bidding. To his displeasure though, those were one of the promises his son never intended to keep.

Since in the world outside of his corridor, where everyone else spoke different languages than his own, the languages of politics and constitution, he could barely hear a thing. Save for the cheering, singing and dancing in the Pharaoh's praise, as soon as the participants took their appointed seats, wheat and beverages were served at their tables. As much as Atem preferred to leave it at that and call it a night after he had had enough of star gazing, when another presence entered his personal space, his grip around the fence tightened severally.

Atem didn't have to glance past his shoulder to know who it was, standing shadily against the fence and several inches apart from him, when the footing has finally stopped. He was certain that discussing political matters or deepening connections that will soon prove to be helpful, kept his father occupied, giving him little time to cope with his son's misbehavior. That not only left the royal guards, but the servants, who hardly held any sort of authority over him whatsoever, to even try.

And that left no other option but one.

"My prince," Mahad broke the silence lingering between them first, as Atem has clearly made no effort in doing so himself. "you've kept yourself here on your own long enough, wouldn't you agree?"

Atem sighted in return, hardly in the mood for what he believed was coming next. "Was it my father who sent you here, looking for my whereabouts?"

"Oh, believe me, I didn't have to look too much." He replied gaily, but that hardly made Atem laugh, as he added, "While the Pharaoh did mention that he wishes to see you, the answer is no. I didn't come here because anyone sent me but out of my own accord."

Uncertain what to say, the prince rubbed his hands together quietly, blowing air on the back of his skin to warm it. His elbows propped against the fence, his fingers no longer curved around it in possessiveness to his so-called secret place. Thinking just how naive he was for believing he could hide something from his old friend.

At the same pace his uncertainty dissolved, some of the burning lights across the horizon have already extinguished, little by little, as families and troupes alike, already dozed off to bed.

"Of course, you didn't." Atem commented, distracting himself with his collection of golden rings to excuse himself from staring back at him, as he felt a little ashamed for doubting him like that. "I apologize for my behavior."

Mahad offered no vocal reply, but with a quick nod of the head, approving that he wasn't offended by his words. Soon enough, his gray eyes already fixed on the far away land, the exact same line between the sky and soil, Atem had stared at just momentarily ago before he walked right in.

The moment he saw it, Atem recognized that look on his face, drifting somewhere between thoughtful to reflective, but with no clear destination in sight. As something was just about to resurface to the back of his head any minute now. Despite him having no clue what this was exactly about, the rest came in by a surprise.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Mahad inquired with a curtly hand gesture, giving him no time to retort and little to prepare for the rest. "For generations, this kingdom was ruled by none other than the most influential, strong-willed men ever known, who led it gracefully to the empire it is to this day. More importantly, they never let hope fade away from their people's hearts, as I'm certain that when your time comes, you'll do just the same in the way you see fit.

And I'll be there in every step of the way, watching your growth and take your first step towards your destined quest."

At that moment, something inside Atem's heart stir, his violet eyes drew color and light all the same. It was in small gestures like this, when Mahad never ceased to surprise him, not even when they were little. Whether it was during the act of a playful prank he persuade him to take part of and later on take the blame, or given kind words whenever he felt trapped in his own home or insecure about fulfilling his future duties, despite him, having his own problems to deal with.

It was now as clear as day, when his father asked him a few days before to appoint himself a right-hand man, someone to consult him and push his limits to greater lengths, who the most suitable for that part was, and maybe someday, Mahad will even be granted the right to rule the throne beside him.

"Mahad..." Atem started, but decided against it. Sometimes fewer words were far better when expressing gratitude, his father always used to tell him, especially when a friend is involved or men in general. "Thank you."

Mahad offered a glimpse of a smile in return. "What do you say we come back inside my prince, you're cold aren't you?"

In attempt to hide the shudder in his limbs, and in acceptance of defeat all the same, Atem added, "You should really skip the formalities when we're alone though.", as he followed the white trail, which was his long, flowing cape, back inside. After all, he'll have to tell his father and better sooner than later.

There were two main things the prince took into notion when they entered the same, overly bright room. First of all, nobody saw him strolling down the hall accompanied by none other than the wielder of the Millennium Ring, and secondly, no one cared. Everyone else was entirely too immersed in their own personal affairs, whether they simply sat by their tables, drinking to their heart's content or enjoying good company.

Some of them even gathered to small groups of three to four, discussing matters he knew nothing about. One pair in particular has caught his eye. Soon enough, their glances met, as his father signaled him almost immediately to approach him right away. Atem did as he was told and strode towards their direction, a small corner in the western part of the large room, taking slow but confident steps.

Before he even had the chance to notice it, Mahad has already mingled himself among the crowd, and was nowhere in sight. He didn't know what for though, since he rarely attempted to avoid the Pharaoh's presence for no good reason.

But when he got there, Atem believed he knew why. In front of his father stood a tall man he didn't quite recognize, with an intimidating aura surrounding him. That didn't bother him as much though, as he could be just as threatening when the situation called for it. As soon as he noticed him, the stranger spun on his heels quickly, taking him by surprise.

White and the color of the ocean blue, which was the dominant color of his pupils, blurred into vision. For the second time in his entire six-teen years of light, Atem had never met eyes quite as blue as his, neither did he ever saw the ocean. But decided that if he had, its color was probably the same, and that about summarized how it felt; that a foreigner from afar away land, with exotic characteristics was put out for exhibition.

As it almost seemed like this stranger was studying him just as intently, Atem felt a tightening in his chest, and somewhat insecure, near to the point he would rather skip the introductions and pass by him. Not like there was anyone in their entire kingdom who couldn't recognize their prince when they saw him anyway. So he did, but with an unintentional, hasty gasp as he went.

"Atem, I've been looking for you for a while, but no matter, that can wait," Aknamkanon said, as the prince stood right in front of him. While ignoring the stranger completely, despite him being taught his entire life never to act rudely to a subject, being it a noble or a wanderer. "I wish to speak with you."

"So do I father." Atem replied politely, suggesting, "Should we go somewhere a little more private then?"

"There will be no need. I would like you to meet someone," and with a slow hand movement, the Pharaoh had presented him the stranger. "This is Seto. He has been known for his great intellect and impressive abilities. From this day forward he'll live here, learn the path of the High Priests by his predecessors and soon enough, when the time comes, he'll serve as your right-hand man."

Taken aback, Atem couldn't say anything in response before letting the word settle in, as if he just got tackled to the ground, forcibly and unexpectedly. And with all of his might, what he had managed to spit in the end was a hasty, "What?"

"My prince," Said a third manly voice interrupting them both. Much to his surprise, he found Seto already kneeling before him, and without giving him a fair warning but a gentle squeeze, he took the prince's right hand into his grip and kissed the ring surrounding his middle-finger. "It will be a honor to serve under your command."

And although this was considered as a common act, meant as a method to show respect to royalty, Atem couldn't help but feel repulsed by his touch. He pulled his hand back to the side of his body and stepped back uncontrollably.

"I..." Atem knew he couldn't deny the truth from him. "I apologize for the misunderstanding, but father, you told me I could choose my own right-hand man, and so I have. Mahad is the one I've chosen for the part."

The pharaoh looked back at him sternly, no doubt in mind he was displeased with his son's latest choice of words. Especially, Aknamkanon resented it when he protested against him out in the open like this, then again, the one who refused his suggestion to move their discussion elsewhere was him in the first place.

Neither of them had planned to back down, their stubbornness were one of the few qualities the both of them shared in common. For the longest time, they didn't say a word, but simply kept eyeing one another, as if playing a game of who breaks and submit to the other's wishes first, as ridiculous as that may have sound, in a few rare occasions Atem was the one who left off victorious.

"Any misunderstanding you might have," Seto said, while the prince almost already forgot of his presence. "I can help you solve, my prince."

For a mere moment that had long ago passed, Atem found himself caged under his demanding stare."I hardly think so, now if you would please let me speak with my father-"

"If you only knew what my true abilities were, and where my priorities lie, you wouldn't have chosen anyone else, but me, I assure you that." A slow smirk worked its way on his face, obviously not bothered to say the least, by this new development and that was irritating.

Atem pointed irascibly at him. "You won't speak before me without my permission!"

Seeing just how agitated this made his son by each passing second, Aknamkanon decided to act quickly and commanded, "Seto, join the others for now. We'll discuss this again later."

And to that, being hereby ordered by his king, Seto had little choice but back away, at least for the time being. Before he went off on his way, he made sure to bow to them, expect this time while standing completely still on his floor tile, eyeing the prince one last time as he stepped back a few steps and turned his back to them. Atem hardly knew what to make out of his facial expression though, which was cold and uninviting to say the least.

With no further argument, he let his father lead them to their appointed table. They sat side by side, shoulders occasionally brushing one another, without breaking a word. Knowing that each one of those will only do worse than better, leading them back to the same dissension as before, so they chose to enjoy their meal in silence instead.


A/N: I'll post any updates here or on my profile page, then please make sure to check those out. This fiction wasn't meant to be long at first, but several changes and ideas always click in my head as I write. That being said, I really can't tell that ahead of time where my imagination is going to lead me.

Thanks for reading!