Hooves clattered against the ground, kicking up loose dirt, rocks, and sand as it trekked across the burning desert ground. The flanks of the horse were drenched in sweat and the rider herself panted in short, uneven breaths. White robes trailed behind her in the wind and the light of Ra glinted against her gold headdress. She rode as in earnest, knowing the worst had occurred, but desperately pleading that she was wrong. Yet, that was impossible. Her Millennium Item never lied. Finally, up ahead, she saw it. A thick stone tablet standing upright. A young girl in short robes knelt before it, weeping inconsolably. Mahad! Jumping from her mount, Isis sprinted toward the others. It was just as her Item had foretold.
Priest Mahad was gone.
"Master! Master!" The young girl continued her cries, her hands grazing across the cold, unresponsive tablet until she crumpled further into the sand. Strong arms embraced her and her skin felt the cool caress of cold metal. Sorrowful aquamarine stared into grieving amethyst. "Mana," came the Pharaoh's voice, usually so strong and confident, now an aching whisper.
With a face still wracked with tears, Mana earnestly pleaded with the man kneeling beside her, "Pharaoh, you can summon him for the stone tablet, can't you?! Please, I want to be with my master!" Before the Pharaoh could reply, a firm voice spoke, "Mana! Mahad's soul needs time to rest after his battle!" Both Atem and Mana turned to face the priestess standing before them. "Besides," Isis continued, her voice softening. "Your heka isn't strong enough to see spirits yet."
Fresh tears brimmed in Mana's eyes as the truth of Isis' words stung her. Behind the trio, a set of footsteps shuffled and a guard stepped forward. He was one of the men Mahad had taken with him to seal the tomb where he was to fight Bakura. In his hands, he held a parcel wrapped with a thin piece of linen. To the shock of Atem and Isis, Mana abruptly stood up and stepped toward the guard, shouting in a haze of blind rage and aching sorrow, "You! How could you let my Master go through with this?! How could you seal him in there with that...that...thief!" Behind her, Atem stood upright. "Mana! That's enough!" Letting her grief overwhelm her, she ignored the Pharaoh's protest. " If he had just taken me with him, I could have protected him! You coward! How dare you stand there holding his…" Mana took a fearful step back as a golden triangular pendant slipped out from the linen cloth.
"I-is th-that…?!" Mana stammered, as the guard pulled the linen cloth, completely revealing the object underneath. Atem exhaled behind her. "It is." Sadly, the guard glanced down at the object, as if holding a silent conversation. "This was the only thing of Master Mahad's were were able to recover from the tomb." In his hands lay the Millennium Ring.
"So the thief didn't steal it!" came Priest Seto's astonished cry. Crossing his arms with a snort, the priest huffed, "It seems Mahad is not a total failure...but we still don't know whether Bakura is dead or alive!"
But, Mana heard none of this. She stood perfectly still as if in a trance, her eyes trained on a single object - the Millennium Ring. Atem looked from Mana to the Ring and back. With renewed resolve, he swallowed his sorrow and approached the guard. Gingerly, the king's fingers traced the curve of the Ring. The metal warmed the tips of his fingertips and a small vibration worked its way gently up his arm. So, Atem mused sadly, a small smile forming on his lips. Your magic still inhabits this Item, Mahad. Gently, as if the golden relic would crumble like brittle bones, Atem placed the Ring between his own palms. Heaving a deep sigh, he stepped toward Mana, who, though still frozen as a statue, regarded him with increasing fear.
"Mana," he said, taking another step toward her. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Not so soon." His eyes drifted back to Mahad's tablet looming before them. Closing his eyes, he took in a breath, calming the torrent of emotions threatening to rip him apart. "Mana," he said again, this time holding her aquamarine gaze steadily within his own piercing, amethyst. "The time has come." Taking another fearful step back, Mana's eyes widened. "The time?! For what?"
"The time for you to don the Millennium Ring."
Incredulous, Mana shook her head back and forth, denying it. "But my apprenticeship isn't complete and I need Master Mahad to guide me!" Stepping forward, Isis placed a firm hand on Mana's now trembling shoulder, "Mana! Listen. You must inherit Mahad's will!" Pushing her gently to face Mahad's tablet, Isis again gentled her tone. "Go train, Mana. This is Mahad's wish."
Clearing his throat, Atem stepped toward Mana, the spines of the Ring chiming as he moved. Placing a soft kiss on her cheek, he instructed her to close her eyes. Mana felt a new weight on her chest. Snapping her head down, she saw that the Pharaoh had placed the Millennium Ring around her own neck. With fresh tears and fresh determination, Mana collapsed before the tablet, her chest constricting with her sobs, the spines of the Ring rattling wildly. "Master," she cried with every bit of energy she had left.
"I'll become an amazing magician."