Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh, or any Yugioh character portrayed in this fic!

A/N: This fic has been re-posted due to some technical problems when Sirensbane transferred this to my account, as followers of the story might have read in her profile. Due to Sirensbane's deleting of her fanfiction account (due to personal reasons), I will now be taking over the writing aspect. It must be noted that although this is posted under my account, the story is a fully collaborated effort, with all ideas and excerpts done by both the excellent writer Sirensbane and myself. I hope I can do this story justice! Reviews and feedback appreciated :)

Primacy

Chapter 1

The marketplace of Thebes! Raucous, vibrant, colourful and as abrasive as a newly formed bruise. The sun beat down on the canopied stalls and shora protected heads, releasing strong smells of sweat, animals, rotting vegetables and overripe fruit while the wind whipped sand into every crevice, every fold of cloth, sweeping against exposed skin with elusive glee. Seth, High Priest and advisor to his Highness, the Pharaoh of Egypt was confronted with this plethora of life, reek and energy the moment he led his retinue of soldiers and healers into the central square. Tilting his head back, he inhaled sharply once or twice to accustom himself to the thick atmosphere.

A unanimous awareness passed through the crowd as they pointed, stared and conversed behind dusty hands, parting to form a barely navigable path for the travelers. As exhausted from the long journey as he was, Seth took the time to examine the faces dotting the audience forming their unofficial welcoming party. He read concern, fear, confusion, even an element of anger. How many know already? How long before they panic?

They entered the residential area and his bright gaze moved over the open bonfires, dark smoke rising from congealed embers, where the shawled and robed women sweated over huge copper pots, the dusty streets where ragged children ran about, waving sticks and flinging stones, upwards to the balconies laden with washing and clay pots of all sizes. How many of these houses will soon stand empty?

The men making up his train were solemn-faced, bearing his mood like an almost perceptible standard. There was no need for speech after the things they had seen, the places they had traveled through. The journey had taken them all the way down the Nile, to the border and back. The Southern Empire had far less luck than themselves. But it is spreading

Some said it was a disease brought in with the traders from the East, a plague born of the dense jungles of Harappa, some said it was blown in with the strong storm winds off the coast and yet others whispered of Shadow magic and the displeasure of the Gods. They fear what they do not understand. Shadow magic has protected this land for many ages past. Possibly it is time to show them more, to rid ourselves of this veil of secrecy. If the disease is caused by Shadow Magic…

And yet, in every city, every town, every farmhouse he had seen on his travels that had been affected by the pestilence, he did not sense any traces of Shadow Magic. Could it truly be a disease brought in by travelers and traders from distant countries? Seth was versed in certain elements of healing, having studied as a scribe and later serving for a year in the infirmaries as a record keeper. This was like no illness he had ever encountered before.

Curious eyes and hushed voices followed the returning train as they passed on, the walls of the palace looming ahead, bright as a shining beacon.

"Unless we do something soon, my Pharaoh, I fear that thousands will die."

Atem bowed his head in thought as Seth summed up their long, closeted conference.

"Then I believe we have no choice."

Seth paused, and Atem sensed his desire to say something further. "Pharaoh, if we but bring greater awareness to the people of how our power and Shadow Magic protects this land . . ."

"Impossible!" interrupted Akunadin sharply, "Seth, you know not of what you speak. Our dynasty has kept the secrets of our ancestors for ages past. This idea of sharing knowledge," he turned to address the rest of the assembled priests, "is the reason that outlaws such as the Thief are allowed to roam this land, twisting the Shadow craft to their own heinous means!"

"Priest Akunadin," overrode Seth, "I am fully aware of the implications. But I did not suggest that we impart details of our power to the people, I merely propose that we educate them in the signs that Shadow Magic leaves and how to avoid possible contact with cursed items or areas. We must do everything in our power to prevent a panic."

"I will consider both your arguments," said Atem, raising a placatory hand, "I must commend you, Seth, on the zeal which you continuously display in the protection of our people. But, Akunadin, as you have stated, these secrets have been kept for centuries. At the same time, the people's safety is the prerogative for using Shadow Magic in the first place. Thus, it is fair that we inform them of the true danger, give them ample opportunity to prepare and give them indications of the things that might pose a hazard. But I cannot condone the preparation of sensors. A skilled shadowmancer would be able to pick such an article apart and lure others, including members of this council, into further danger." He sighed. "I will meditate on this further."

Afterwards, only finer details of organization were finalized, leaving a disconsolate High Priest to pace the palace halls to his chambers. Progress is made through risk, experimentation. Success is not guaranteed, but how can we not take that chance?

At that moment, an explosion rocked the very ground on which he stood, plaster and mortar raining down from the ceiling in a shower on his headdress and sending him to the floor. Startled, Seth reached out to the Shadows. They responded eagerly, their soft hissing turning to a whine of anticipation in his Shadow-tuned ears.

No…

Seth scrambled upright as the Shadow's whine turned into a fully-fledged shriek.

No…

And then he was running.

In the royal gardens, the tendrils of Shadow Magic swirled in a hurricane of destructive fury.

"How thoughtful of you to grace us with your Almighty presence, Priest." Bakura's raspy voice was unmistakable. He stood casually on the lip of the crumbled garden wall, smirking. Shaada lay on the ground before him, his clothing tattered and his face ashen.

"Thief," Seth snarled. "What right have you . . ."

A bark of laughter interrupted him. "As a citizen of Egypt, I think I am full within my rights to come pay my respect to the Pharaoh." He bowed to Shaada who glared up at him through the blood and grit coating his lacerated face.

"Enough!" The Millennium Rod materialized in Seth's hand as he fired a heavy bolt of Shadow Magic at one of the Guardian Tablets erected against the inner perimeter of the palace walls. Bakura simultaneously vaulted the wall, landing like a cat and rolling towards him, a deadly, curved scimitar carving a gleaming path through the air towards his head. The attack was blocked by a shimmering wall of energy which coiled around the tomb robber, cinching his upper body in a deadlock. Seth took advantage of this respite, dashing towards Shaada and slinging the wounded priest's arm around his neck as he half carried, half dragged him to the shelter of a marble pillar.

"Seth , I. . ."

Keeping his gaze fixed on his struggling opponent, Seth rested a placating hand on Shada's shoulder. "Hold still, reinforcements are coming. Don't move that arm."

The reptilian beast unleashed from the Guardian Tablet slithered towards the thrashing form of the thief, rolling sideways sinuously, jaws agape, readying to sink into flesh . . . and the ground beneath it erupted, a massive, roiling, spear-ended appendage crushing the smaller creature's body beneath its weight, the razor tip flashing through the air once more, impaling Seth's monster through the head. Seth let out a gasp of surprise and pain and staggered, ears ringing with unexpected agony. Blinking furiously to clear the black specks that danced before his eyes, he clutched the pillar for support. What's going on?

"Is that really the best you can do?" Bakura sneered. As Seth watched, helpless, the spear-like appendage flashed down again, severing the magical bonds rooting the Thief King in place. Free again, Bakura stalked forward. The scimitar glinted wickedly in the dim light.

The priest still clung to the pillar, and inwardly, Bakura snarled. What fools, to think a few spears and arrows stand a chance against the might of my Diabound. You are truly no match. Quite frankly, I'm disappointed.

And to think that I missed you.

"Fortunately for you," Bakura said out loud, raising the blade. "I don't have time tonight to play with you properly. Don't get me wrong; I'd love the chance to hear you scream…" Seth's eyes narrowed with fury. "But the way you're fighting, you're not worth my time." He looked at the priest disdainfully. "I won't even need Diabound for this."

There was the pounding of soldiers' feet on stone, and fifty of the Pharaoh's elite guard burst into the garden. The Pharaoh and his priests were on their heels, Shadows lunging forward with shrieks of anticipation.

No! Seth thought. Pharaoh, his monster…

Beneath Bakura's feet, the ground heaved, as whatever monster that lay hidden there began to rise out of the earth to meet the attack. Bakura smirked, crouching in readiness, and raised his sword…and then stopped. The ground fell still.

"Next time, Pharaoh," he said. "It's no fun if you die so easily."

Then he was gone, atop the wall before the soldiers had time to blink. Seth dropped his head against the pillar and closed his eyes, fighting tears of shame.