Prologue
A/N: Characters used in this story do not belong to me and all events take place following the conclusion of the original series.
I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!
"Out of all the stars in the sky, I admire only one..."
A bright light amidst the twilight skies of his life. Her eyes as blue as the ocean, her skin and hair like milk and cream intertwined.
"Out of all the flowers that grace the Pharaoh's palace gardens with their rarity, I choose only one..."
Had she survived, he would've taken her as his bride. She was a delicate rose, trampled on the ground. Different from any other woman he had laid eyes on. Sometimes he found himself wondering who she truly was. So what if the townsfolk had ostracized her a demon? A witch. Who cares if such an appearance was unnatural for an Egyptian?
"Out of all the angels who watch the miracles and tragedies of humanity that unfold within the wake of their wings, I ask heaven to bless me with only one..."
Her soul blended with a creature so powerful, its light rivalled the darkness. She was like an angel and he had known from that fateful night he had rescued her, to the day she lay in his arms to rest. She died protecting him, just as he had risked his life to save her.
'Out of all the women in the world, freeborn or slave..." The bereaved High Priest of the Millenium Rod and now Pharaoh of Egypt studied the tablet he kept in the highest honour, at the heart of his Tablet Sanctuary, whispering, "I will always love only one."
Unfamiliar tears trickled down his face as his fingers brushed the carvings within the stone tablet. Clutching his Millenium Rod tight within his grasp, Seto looked up at the magnificent creature in all it's glory. It reminded him so much of ...Kisara.
It had been many years since he had lost her to death. Many years since his cousin, Atem had defeated Zorc and restored peace to the land of Egypt.
Many years since that Great Pharaoh had made him King.
And still, Seto remembered that day well.
He could still feel her soft fingers touching the tears that blinded his eyes, running down his tanned cheeks. He could still smell the pungent scent of death lingering in the seconds that ticked by. And every time he recalled this far and distant memory, every emotion he had felt then came rushing back. Filling his heart so much, it overwhelmed him.
Sorrow. Anger. Doubt.
Fear.
In Kisara, Seto had found a feeling he had never experienced properly in his life.
He had been raised a fatherless son, by a devoted mother killed in the flames when his village was destroyed. Brought into the royal court and trained to be only the best. People had ridiculed his humble origin, but he kept striding to the top, head held high with pride. They called him a bastard, his mother, a whore, but still he pressed on.
Hardly any time for friends.
If anything, the only friends he truly had were those of the Sacred Court. But even they kept quite a distance.
So Seto was virtually alone.
Until he was reunited with Kisara in whom he had found belonging.
Seto stared hard in to the dragon face who represented the centerpiece of his heart. It never failed to amaze him how such a powerful spirit could dwell in the fragility of Kisara. It was a part of him. Drawn into his soul. Written all over his heart. That's where she would forever reside.
He didn't want to say any words. People hardly spoke in his nation when death passed over the land. He remembered well the funeral service of his cousin, Atem, so many years ago. No one had spoken. All had simply watched, as his tomb was forever sealed, in silence. The magnitude of the loss was far too great for anyone to say anything. The country had lost a Pharaoh.
But Kisara was just Kisara.
No one else had cared for her the way he had. No one else bothered to give her the time of day.
It had been years since her death. But still, the many words his heart longed to shout from the top of his palace continued to pour out from him. They were the words he never wanted to stay for he was King of Egypt.
And as King, he had vowed to stay strong, to abstain from every outlet of weakness.
When he was younger, he had seen grieving for the people he had lost to the Shadows as a major weakness. Weakness would not rebuild his kingdom and restore it to its former glory. Neither would it maintain peace in Egypt.
But Seto was learning, that to weep for what was long lost was the greatest sign of a man's strength.
So tonight, he let the words that described Kisara fill his mind and overwhelm his heart.
Fragile, like a white rose in full bloom yet strong beyond belief.
Docile, yet aggressive. Nurturing yet ferocious.
A mystery and the most honest person Seto had ever met.
Quiet and reserved, yet her soul blazed with the White Dragon's bright fire.
Beautiful.
Loyal.
Kind.
That was Kisara and her rare smile.
That was Kisara when she spoke.
That was Kisara when she ran across whatever distance to find him.
That was Kisara when she died to save him.
That was Kisara when she promised to be with him forever, guarding him from whatever ill may befall him.
"You gave me peace..." Seto said quietly both to himself and to his Dragon, "In my time of war..." He pressed his lips against the cold stone, the last words Kisara had said to him, echoing throughout his mind.
"You're free now...and I promise Aknadin will never hurt you again..."
His father.
Seto clenched his fist when he remembered.
His own father had killed Kisara in a meaningless struggle for the throne.
"My power rests with you now..."
The sound of her voice resounded through the sanctuary, reverberating beneath the ground and coming to an abrupt halt when another voice penetrated Seto's thoughts, ending the trance.
"There should be a law that forbids a King from neglecting his royal duties for more than ten minutes..."
"There should be a law that forbids members of the Pharaoh's Sacred Court from intruding on the King's private matters which do not concern them, Isis..." Seto looked over his shoulder at the woman with ebony hair hidden behind the hood of her linen cloak. Her blue eyes speaking the wisdom of the ages, and the tight line of her mouth obviously displeased.
"And in any case, I do not think that preventing sleep after the midnight hour is neglecting a royal duty..."
"Your Queen asks for you...she knows you are here but she also believes you need your rest now."
Seto frowned. "Tell her she may retire to her chambers for the night. I will stay here..."
Isis lifted a brow at Seto's reply.
"She understands what this day and night is."
The entire palace understood.
For the past 25 years, the Pharaoh visited his Tablet Sanctuary to remember his Kisara and honour his White Dragon for one day.
But it was late.
Seto was not as young as he once was.
Strength would not come to him regardless of condition.
In his age, he needed his rest for the new day.
Isis ignored his reply. "You will meet her again, my Pharaoh..."
Seto knew well whom Isis was referring to now.
"When?"
Isis now had Seto's full attention.
Firstly because Isis had mentioned a reunion with Kisara and secondly, because he was still not accustomed to anybody referring to him as King or Pharaoh. Even after twenty-five years of ruling Egypt, it was a title Seto felt belonged to a man long dead beneath the sands.
Sighing, the Priestess held her hands ceremonially before her Millenium Necklace and closed her eyes, but opened her mind to the world of the future. She had seen this world many times in her dreams and visions, but could not yet comprehend the extensive knowledge and advancements that ruled the societies of the future.
"Fate has decided many times for your paths to cross. Past, present and future. And each time it does, destiny allows you the choice. You will see her again, Seto. You may not know it is her. And she may not know it is you...but you will meet each other, my Pharaoh. And when that time comes,"Isis bowed deeply in respect and held her fist over her heart to display her wholehearted loyalty to her King.
"I pray that destiny never separate you from your heart again..."
"Will I really see her again, Isis?" Seto asked, his eyes returning to the image tattooed into the very essence of his being. A dragon's face, the face of an angel.
Isis rested her hand on his broad shoulder and smiled, noting the grey that indicated his ripening age, streaking his hair. How the years had touched him so.
"You will, my King...I promise."
