So this little brain child hit me earlier and I had to write it out. The end result is what you see here.
Quick note: I set this when Kul Elna was being massacred, so there's a LOT of blood and violence—not enough to give you nightmares, but still...
The small terrified child ran through the fiery village, her brown eyes wide in terror and her long brown hair flying like a banner behind her.
Seven year old Bennu had no clue as to why the Pharaoh's soldiers were attacking her home—she didn't even know the reason behind it. All she knew was that she had just watched her master get killed, his blood staining her dress, and she just wanted to run as far away as she could get from this wretched place.
Horrified screams rent the air, mingling with the smoke and the flames, and blood ran like water through the streets. Even as she ran, she saw one of the villager's heads suddenly leave its body. The face bore a look of absolute horror and agony, as if he only now realized that he was dead. Bennu screamed and ran even faster. She wanted to run and never ever stop; she just wanted to get away from the blood, the screams, the dead but cold glinting eyes of the soldiers...
A hand reached out abruptly from the darkness and pulled her inside a small hut, another one going over her mouth to silence her. Terrified, Bennu struggled violently against her captor.
"Bennu, for Ra's sake, stop it! It's me!" came a familiar voice in a fierce whisper, and Bennu slightly relaxed. She knew this voice; she turned her brown eyes to meet another set of lavender eyes.
Ten year old Bakura looked down at her, his own eyes terrified and showing relief at seeing her. Two terrible cuts ran across one side of his face, blood matting his silver hair; most likely, the wounds would leave scars. He released her when he determined she wouldn't scream. "Are you okay?" he asked.
For as long as Bennu could remember, the silver haired boy had been in the village, his parents killed while robbing a rich lord's house. Bennu herself had lost her parents, but they had been the victims of a robbery; she had been taken as a slave to serve one of the more richer robbers at the age of five. The two children had almost immediately bonded, becoming friends in "the city of thieves."
She heard the screams of the dying townspeople and she shuddered, burying her face in Bakura's tunic and trying to restrain her sobs. "Why is this happening?" she choked out in a broken whisper, afraid that someone would overhear them. "Why...why would the gods allow this to happen?"
"The gods have nothing to do with this—this is the Pharaoh's doing," snapped Bakura hotly. "It's because we're 'a city of evil that must be eradicated.' I heard the soldiers talking about it."
"Why would the Pharaoh do this, though? Not everyone here is evil, can't he see that?" whimpered the girl.
"He'll pay...by the gods, I swear that the Pharaoh will pay for this!" the boy snarled, his eyes narrowed and his words tainted with such venemous hatred that Bennu gasped in alarm. Realizing that the younger girl was still there, Bakura's eyes softened and he murmured, "Sorry, Bennu."
The little girl nodded dumbly, allowing Bakura to take her hand. He moved to the door way and looked around furtively, his eyes scanning the area. "I don't see any guards...our best chance is the river. If we can make it to the river bank we can cross it and head for either Khal-El or Rameth. It'll be a days journey at best," he muttered to himself.
Turning back to Bennu, he said softly, "If we get separated by some chance keep running, no matter what. Don't stop, don't look back—just head to the river."
Taking a deep breath and offering her one last bolstering smile Bakura shot out of the hut, pulling Bennu with him. Almost immediately the two children heard a cruel voice shout, "I have two over here!" and the chase began.
Bakura pulled Bennu down the street, quickly rounding a corner. He ducked and dodged the spears and arrows being thrown at him, turning onto another road; the one advantage the two children had was the fact that Bakura knew the city better than the soldiers did. After a while, he apparently decided that Bennu could keep up becaus he let her hand go and continued to run.
Several snarls behind them told Bennu that they were now being pursued by dogs, but that didn't deter Bakura any; he merely sped up. But Bennu, so much shorter and so much younger, was not able to go as fast and she was tiring. Her feet felt like lead weights and she was beginning to stumble.
"Come on, Bennu!" she vaguely heard Bakura urge her. "We're almost there!"
The next thing she felt was something slamming hard into her back, knocking the wind out of her.
Bennu rolled over and over in the sand, squealing in pain. She came to rest at the edge of a small cliff that both marked the northern part of Kul Elna and overlooked the river; she could see it as raged in its bed below. She could feel a sharp pain in the small of her back and her hands shakily went to explore the source. Her hands closed on something thin and wooden.
An arrow, she realized dimly. She'd been shot.
A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see a soldier standing above her, his eyes gleaming wickedly. Though her vision and hearing were fading fast, she could still hear what the man was saying.
"Well, now, what have we here? A little mouse trying to run away?" He lifted his sword into the air.
"Don't you touch her!"
Bakura suddenly appeared from nowhere, his eyes flashing as he tackled the guard. The two fell to the ground, and Bakura punched the man in the face as hard as he could. The soldier grunted, reaching for his sword. Bakura, however, was having none of it. He bit down into the man's wrist, his mouth suddenly filling with the warm, coppery taste of blood, and the man screamed. He lashed out with a hidden dagger, hitting Bakura across the face and he went down.
Bennu watched the fight going on dimly, her vision worsening and her hearing failing her as she watched. Everything was fading away, everything looked so dream-like...the pain in her back, her breathing, her heartbeat, everything was going away...
"You value that girl, don't you?" sneered the guard as Bakura glared defiantly at him, the new cut on his face overlapping the other two cuts that had been there previously. "What would happen if I did this?"
Bennu barely felt the foot connect with her body, barely registered the absolutely horrified face of Bakura, barely heard his scream. She was airborne and falling, her body weightless...her eyes were closing against her will...
"BENNU!"
Bakura stared blankly at where, moments before, Bennu had been.
"No...no, no...Bennu!" he screamed, sprinting for the cliff face. Maybe he could still save her, maybe there was still hope—!
He found his way blocked by the soldier once more. "Get out of my way!" he growled savagely.
"Aww, did your little friend get hurt? Too bad...and you'll soon join her. She was worthless to you anyway," sneered the soldier.
Bakura saw red and reached for a discarded dagger that he had spotted on the ground a moment before. "MONSTER!" he roared, tackling the man once more. His hand gripped the dagger tightly and he plunged it into the man's throat, ignoring the man's gurgled screams and the spurt of blood that flew on him. He repeatedly stabbed the man, until there was no more movement and until the red faded from his vision.
Bakura stared at the corpse, gasping for breath. He shakily rose to his feet and dropping the knife. "I...I...killed him..." he murmured in disbelief. He suddenly tasted bile and he fell to his knees, violently gagging and retching.
When he finished, he just sat there, too numb to make himself move. He had killed the soldier...killed him...just like the man had killed Bennu.
Bakura gasped, his eyes widening in shock. "Bennu!" he screamed, running down the path that led to the river. He hardly cared or watched where he was going, so desperate to reach the younger girl that he barely felt his ankle twist. He finally reached the bottom and began to sprint along the river bank, praying to every god he could think of for Bennu's safety.
"Bennu? Bennu, where are you? Bennu!"
And then he froze.
The moon had come out from behind the clouds at last, revealing a limp figure near the cliff wall. Surprisingly, there was minimal blood; the fall had only been about fifteen feet, but for such a small child it could still be fatal—especially with an arrow in her back.
"Bennu?" he whispered fearfully, moving to her slowly and hardly breathing.
Bennu's eyes were closed, her brown hair splayed across her back. The wooden shaft of the arrow stuck out from the body of her hair like a beacon. Shakily, Bakura took a hold of the arrow and pulled it out; the unmoving girl did not even flinch. He fell to his knees beside her and carefully lifted her limp body onto his lap. "Bennu?"
No answer.
"Bennu...you can stop faking now. There aren't any soldiers here. Open your eyes. Oh please, Ra, not her," he cried pleadingly, looking at the sky above him desperately. He turned his attention to the girl again and searched for a heartbeat, any sign of breath or life.
Nothing.
"Bennu, no...oh Bennu!" he sobbed, burying his face in Bennu's hair.
Bakura knew she was dead. She could never come back. But that didn't stop his tears.
He knelt there for an indeterminate amount of time, doing nothing but holding Bennu's corpse and crying. He knew it was his fault...if he hadn't let go of her hand, if he hadn't lost sight of her for one moment, if he had held onto her hand, she would still be alive.
He heard a cruel shout from above him and he looked up sharply. "Gather the bodies and bring them to me! We still have work to do!"
Bakura didn't hear the rest of what was being said because of the blinding anger that was building up inside of him. He was still responsible for Bennu's death, but it wasn't entirely his fault.
The Pharaoh also had Bennu's blood on his hands.
He hesitated for a moment before reverently laying Bennu down, folding her hands across her chest. "Bennu...I swear to you that I will kill the Pharaoh. I will avenge your death, as well as everyone here," he said softly, wiping his eyes.
Bakura rose to his feet, his eyes narrowed in determination. He would see what had prompted the Pharaoh to destroy his village, would learn of what motives could prompt this destruction...and then he would avenge his people. He would destroy the Pharaoh if it was the last thing he ever did.
He vanished rapidly into the night.
Overhead, unseen by the chaos in Kul Elna, a silver scaled dragon was flying.
It was not sure of exactly what had transpired below it, nor was it sure of why it had happened. But it had felt an enormous amount of dark energy gathering there and it could smell blood on the wind. Perhaps it was curiosity that drew it to the destroyed ruins of Kul Elna.
The dragon landed gracefully, its sapphire orbs taking in the scene around it. Corpses littered the ground, but the dragon scarcely noticed; if anything, these bodies would serve as its next meal. It sniffed the air, smoke and blood mingling together, and it burned the dragon's nostrils. It could not determine where the objects that had drawn the dark power had gone.
But it did detect a dark presence.
The dragon growled, noticing for the first time the spirits of the slain flying angrily about. It growled in warning at them, deciding not to eat any of the bodies. That would only anger the spirits further. Instead, it stretched its wings and took off, following the smell of the river. It was thirsty and needed a drink; living in a desert had its drawbacks.
As it landed, it caught the smell of fresh blood once more and it looked around to find the dead body of a small girl. Unlike the corpses in the village, however, this child had an innocence about her that was present even in death. Curiously, the dragon lowered its head and nudged the girl gently. When the child didn't move, it sighed; the child was so young and did not carry the taint that the village had.
It paused, looking for the moon in the night sky. The soft light of the silver orb illuminated the scenery for a moment before the smoke from the burning village drowned it out, obscuring it from view.
The dragon lowered its head once more. It knew an ancient spell that its kind had used sparingly and if there was anything that deserved its magic it was this poor human child. Its head rested gently on top of the girl, and a few moments later tears began to fall on the child's limp body.
As the moon came out from behind the smoke the soft silver light revealed that the body was undergoing a drastic change. Wherever the tears made contact the colors on the girl were changing; the child's tan skin was becoming alabaster white and her hair glowed silver.
The greatest change, however, was that there was a heartbeat where there had previously been none.
The child gasped suddenly for air and the dragon lifted its head to allow her to stir, her eyes opening long enough to reveal that the previously brown orbs now matched the dragon's sapphire ones. Her eyes closed again and she moaned feebly, curling into a ball.
The dragon observed her for a moment before carefully lifting her into its talons and taking off into the night skies. It knew where the child would be cared for by humans and live in relative safety; whatever previous memories that the girl had possessed were long gone, which would further protect the girl.
But most importantly, the child now had the dragon's protection.
Chisisi awoke in his bed in the early hours of dawn.
He lived peacefully enough in the small village of Khal-El, very rarely bothered by travelers; they were too scared of Kul Elna to venture much closer to the village. Nonetheless the village was prosperous enough to get by, so no one was bothered by the lack of popularity.
He looked over at his sleeping wife next to him, smiling tenderly at her before carefully getting out of bed. He had heard a sound coming from the paddocks and he decided to investigate it; he had heard wolves howling the other night, so he brought along his shepherd's staff.
Unfortunately, a puny wooden quarterstaff is no match for a dragon.
Chisisi backed up against the wall of the stables, terrified of the giant creature in front of him. He thought of his wife and his newborn son. "Please," he pleaded, "I don't care if you eat me, but please, spare my family and the village!"
The dragon snorted with amusement before raising its curled fist and allowing it to descend.
The black haired Egyptian gasped and flinched, waiting for whatever gruesome fate was about to befall him. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes and looked at the now open talons of the dragon. He let out an involuntary gasp.
A beautiful silver haired girl lay curled up in its palm, sleeping peacefully. Her skin was as white as the fairest sand in the desert. He noticed that blood stained her torn and dirtied dress, prompting him to wonder what on earth had happened to the poor thing—the child seemed to be no older than six.
Realizing suddenly what it was that the dragon seemed to be saying, he asked, "Are you giving her to me to care for?"
The dragon briefly dipped its head in confirmation.
Chisisi hesitated a moment before carefully lifting the girl into his arms. He noted a few bruises mottling her skin and felt blood on her back. "I swear to you I will treat this child as my own."
The dragon dipped its head approvingly before fixing him with an intense stare. A single sentence echoed through his mind.
The child's name is Kisara, and she is under my protection.
"Kisara?" he repeated slowly, looking at the sleeping child's face.
The dragon nodded one last time before spreading its wings and taking to the sky; the draft created by the sudden wind of the dragon taking off nearly blew Chisisi off of his feet. He managed to keep watching the dragon until it vanished, then he turned around to head back to his house with the dragon's gift.
Unknown to him, the small girl had briefly regained consciousness as the older man had been watching the dragon disappear. She watched it fly away before her eyes closed sleepily and she returned once more to slumber.