Script
Today, I saw him. The blush that crept upon his cheeks and blended with the dark tones there. I saw it. It was a smile, a twinkle in his eye, a small glance; small gestures that I noticed were happening more often than they should have—And I, too, with my own. I wanted to catch him looking and gaze at him as he turned away to busy himself with something else—Marik.
—I.
Today, we bumped into each other. I was reading a text on Egyptian Rulers and different ways that they used the magic of clairvoyance. There was a passage concerning my namesake and listing specifically her more important roles connected to magic; I was absorbed—and we collided. The pages slid from my grasp and fingers hard with calluses caught them. He, too, dropped something that he was carrying, and I wasn't sure that I was allowed to touch it. He apologized for his clumsiness, I for mine, and we went our separate ways. I had never thought of his hands so much after that moment. The moment that he handed it back to me, I felt the skin brush against me, and I wanted to feel it again. It is a sensation that I cannot explain, as subtle as it was. I wanted it to happen again.
—I.
Today, I caught his glance. It was purposeful, meaningful. It was a difficult thing to do; I've been raised to be polite at all times, by both my mother and my father—with all of his faults—and my subconscious was chiding me the entirety of the way. It is impolite in my culture to look someone in the eye who is not worthy of you. I am certainly worth enough to gaze at the family servant as I wish, but I would prefer not to think of Rishid in that way. He was special, a loyal protector of his brother at that. He did things that I never would have been able to do with Marik. When my parents had died, he chipped in. It was difficult, with me being very busy in the days now and Marik growing worse in attitude as the days went by, cursing the family and no longer wanting to carry out his duty as tombkeeper. The Gods were preparing me for something—I could sense it, even then. At times, I am unsure of what to do and Rishid is there when I need him. But I was able to do it. He had been speaking to Marik across the room, and when he glanced at me, that blush spread to his face, and I held it there—the gaze. I held it. I commanded it. And when I allowed him to look away, he was aware of my feelings. I felt uncomfortably warm.
—I.
Today I was plagued with visions from the puzzle. I had been huddled in my room, waiting for them to pass. There were too many things to record in any type of order of coherence. The Pharaoh has returned. He needed my help, Marik's help, Rishid's help. He was unaware of his name. There were other images in the visions as well. A tall man with pale skin and brown hair stood in a museum, his jacket's tail pointing in an odd direction. It was not coherent, and my visions usually are. I know not what to make of it. Rishid offered to do something but, stammering, could not think of anything that would help. He had seen me suffer from this for years, and I recall my parents explaining my visions to him for the first time. It is odd how the future and present may remind you of the past. That is ironic, as I write here, thinking of him, wondering what it will be like…
Marik was not fond of the visions. He did not want the Pharaoh to return. I do not know why. But I shall have to do my best to guide the Pharaoh, even if my brother does not.
—I.
Today, a kiss. I cannot remember now if it was our first one. It has been a long while since I have written, and at times it is difficult for me to decipher the present from the future, as I live one and see the other constantly. I feel as though it were our first; I would be disappointed in myself if I have forgotten. Now that I write about it, I sincerely hope that all of our kisses feel as though they could be the first one, as unlikely as that possibility is. It was filled with uncertainty, and the hope of pursuing something that I would rather not voice. Marik will be angry. If the Gods favor me, I will have a vision about that as well, so that I may prepare. Marik is a force to be reckoned with, and he grows more angry with each passing day. I know now that something is not right with him; Rishid is the only one who may speak to him without causing his rage.
But: that kiss. We stared and stared, unsure of whether or not the step was appropriate. It had been so long since I had expressed feelings for any person in such a physical way, and even though I had been the one to initiate our slow dance into each other's arms I could not…take that step. I was relieved when he moved forward. His arms were…strong. It is hard to describe. There were so many things, and they were all happening so fast. My lips tingled afterward, and I now even as I write I'm touching them. It felt so…real, in a way that I was never able to attribute to anything else in my life.
Marik still didn't know.
—I.
Today, I was asked by Marik the Pharaoh's whereabouts. I refused to give him the location, and he threatened to kill me; Rishid managed to talk him out of it. I think I know what is wrong; I saw it today.
—I.
Today, another kiss, as though it were a normal occurrence. It was exciting. We had a dinner, leaving with some excuse of business for the tomb that got Marik started on one of his rages. I knew for sure what was happening to him then, and I could do nothing but wait in unease. I have the feeling that I will not be the person to solve his problems, to cure him. If anyone could do it, it would be Rishid when the time comes. With the Gods stirring and the world slipping into peril, I would not be surprised if Horus himself blessed me with the ability to heal him. The Gods are alive, and they are fighting for this world, that much is sure—I hope that the Pharaoh does not perish before they require his assistance.
The dinner was something I had never experienced in my life before. Rishid revealed to me that he did nothing but save what funds he had received, for emergencies; I should never have to pay for a thing. He told me that I was the most important investment he had ever made. I smiled, and there was a…better kiss than the previous ones. I could not tell if I loved him—they were words that I longed to say, but I was not sure, and I had determined that I was to wait. I am proud of myself for making such an informed decision on the matter.
—I.
Today, a more in depth plan. I overheard him speaking to Rishid. Covert operations, an underground organization of followers—he had managed to convince many of the still religious citizens here that the Pharaoh is corrupted and evil. He will gain them as allies, I sensed, and that scared me. I had not been expecting him to involve the lives and souls of others in his bid to stop the Pharaoh's mission. Rishid listened patiently, something I would not have been able to do. I wanted him to stop Marik, to use that strength that I so admire to put the boy in his place! But when I saw into the future—in pieces, again, a most peculiar thing—I did not take action. And so, I decided to stay my hand, and pretend that I had not heard the conversation.
—I.
Today, we shared more than a kiss. I cannot even begin to describe it—I shall have to wait.
I must love him.
—I.
Today, Marik told me that he was leaving to stop the Pharaoh's evil. I had seen, previously, that I was not to say a word to him of his plans—I could feel it—and so I did not. But I was worried, and I spoke directly toRishid about it. His arms made me feel more secure than his words did, and as much as I wanted to believe that he could stop Marik before he went too far and injured the Pharaoh, I did not believe him. It is difficult not having so many pieces to the puzzle—when my necklace only shows me glimpses and pieces of those pieces—it is difficult having faith and waiting, when I am used to knowing how things will happen. He kissed me, as he was prone to do when Marik wasn't watching, and I could not bring myself to ruin the moment by thinking of those horrible things. It is nice to know that I can stop worrying to enjoy my life. It is something that I still have trouble doing.
—I.
Today, I know that there will be a time when there are no more visions. I could not decide if it was good, and I cannot decide now.
—I.
Today, we fought. He wanted to watch over Marik even while he plotted and executed his plan to defeat the Pharaoh. I had made the mistake of telling him that Marik would never win, and thusly Rishid volunteered himself to look over him as a follower in disguise, as Marik believed that Rishid supported him anyway. But I did not want him to leave; I wanted him to stay with me—I want him to stay with me. I do not yet know what decision he made, but as I await it I fear it will not be in my favor. I was already missing his embrace as we debated. It was a lonely feeling, even though he was standing in front of me; even though I could have reached out and touched him. I do not want to feel that. I do not…I wish I did not have to.
—I.
Today, the decision is made. They were leaving to prepare to take down the Pharaoh. It was supposed to be much later, I felt, and I voiced my opinion on that to Rishid, though we had not spoken in days. The empty feeling had been consuming me so that I had to immerse myself in work, physical as well as concerning the family's income. I was the only one concerned with it now, as every time Marik caught Rishid doing house-related work he was scorned and sometimes beaten with the Rod. I could not believe that he was my flesh and blood, my brother. Why must we go through such pain before we meet bliss? I ask the Gods of this every time I write here, and I receive no answer thus far.
Rishid told me that the original planning had been much later, but some sort of opportunity had arisen. The Pharaoh was famous now for dueling, the same way that he had been in the past. I had another vision as I spoke to him, and he cradled me as it passed. It was again in pieces, and I saw the three Great Gods—Slifer, Obelisk, Ra. I feared the worst if they had to be released, but I do not know whether to worry now; for those pieces I saw were not very specific at all. Rishid assured me that my other visions would come to pass, and that Marik would not be successful. He kissed me, something he hadn't done in days, and it felt comforting. He promised to come back to me when Marik was sleeping. When he returned, when I myself was going to my own chambers for bed, he informed me that Marik did not want me to know but that they were leaving tomorrow while I was not paying attention. Marik knew not of my visions and most of what I saw had gone un-conveyed to him over the years—he thought that the necklace had no power at all. Rishidknew differently, he had told me, and that was how he knew that my brother would fall.
He took me into his bed that evening—I had a vision as I lay with him—and I cried. There was much pain, too much pain. We would not see each other for months.
I miss him already. I love him already.
I know not what to say when I look at him now.
—I.
{FIN}
Alright, thanks for being patient with the notes. OMG, a non-foreign title?
First of all, I'm so sorry for anyone who is a grammar Nazi on this one. It screws completely with the brain for various reasons. I hope this doesn't drive you all insane.
As per usual, I try to explore a new concept when I write something for this contest (or at least, that's what I've been ending up doing anyway), and for this it was the capacity of Isis's ability to see the future. There are sections that refer to her seeing her visions in pieces, which she notes is abnormal for her (usually she sees a coherent "scene" or multiple connected "scenes" in her visions in the show—usually...), and that's me exploring the world of a vision within a vision. It's a rather unending cycle, but my idea is that if she did indeed see herself having a vision it would be possible for her to sense some of what it was, but in an indirect form, as she's waiting for the moment to come where she actually has the full vision. Also, here, her visions cause her a bit of disorientation and discomfort. Not physically, but mentally, because processing future events through a medium is still rather taxing in that way, I think. If people can become dizzy or tired from concentrating too hard on one action—driving, for example—then I believe that a vision of the future and the concentration it takes to receive it coherently would also cause that sort of fatigue.
Another big thing here in this story is Isis "remembering" the future, hence the title. It's a script of sorts, because what she sees in her visions are the inevitable. She knows that this is going to happen, but how do describe something that happens to you but hasn't yet? How do you guess how you feel based on seeing a scene of your life? Seeing the event from a third person point of view mutes the experience, in a way; dilutes it so that it's not quite as intense. She can "sense" what's going on in her vision even if it hasn't happened to her yet, for example: the instance where she knows that she and Rishid, in her vision, have not spoken in a while. Isis knows about these difficulties in deciphering her visions, as she's been dealing with them most of her life, and I took the liberty of assuming that it would indeed be difficult to put a muted sensation or emotion into words. And in addition to this, there are probably some things she wouldn't want to put in words.
Despite this feeling like a short piece for me because of the partitions, I like the feel. If I had done a real diary as opposed to a journal pertaining to her visions only, I think that this would have been a bit more "juicy" with information. I might have been able to work in something close to a lemon. However, I don't really see Isis as a person who keeps a diary, ironically. Visions, however, are harder to remember XD Especially when there are so many of them, so I thought that this was more plausible.
Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed this! Review, please~!
"I will return, for I am the darkness..."