Return

Atem sat on his throne, contemplative, solemn, his bronze skin glowing in the light which sifted through rectangular windows in the palace walls. Sweet smelling incense was burning, and it wafted to his nostrils, offering some small gift of comfort in times of such turmoil.

It was the end of all things.

Their technology was far more advanced. Their armies, more massive. They were better prepared. Hell, nobody in Upper or Lower Egypt even knew about the planned invasion until it was far too late. The defending army was poised for battle, poised for bloodshed…poised for defeat.

It was inevitable. Even the Pharaoh knew this. Ishizu waited obediantly at his side. For once, she remained silent. She had no suggestions. There was nothing to suggest. The magicians had been slaughtered in the night. All that was left was the primitive spear points and comparatively weak man-power of the Egyptian army.

"The Assyrians…they will annihalate us," Atem spoke, at last. It was a statement.

"Yes, Pharaoh," Ishizu confirmed.

Atem rose, brushing his billowing indigo robes to one side as he strode majestically to the palace entrance.

"Tell them to prepare a horse. I will lead our men into battle."

His voice was so wraught with sheer despondence. Ishizu could hear the hopelessness resonating from the Pharaoh's words, which were usually so confident and regal. The magnitude of what was happening began to sink into her skin. Her shoulders felt heavier. It became difficult to maintain the poise she had been trained to stand with at all times.

The stick of incense fluttered out, leaving a slender wisp of smoke.

Atem mounted his horse, a brilliant white one with a flowing, silky mane. He had a dagger at his hip and a spear on his back. He rode valiantly to the battlegrounds, the sun drawing the perspiration from his brow. The Pharaoh trotted to the front lines where his army was standing obediantly, waiting to follow him unto death. They fell to their faces as he passed.

"My friends, rise up from the ground. I refuse to soil the faces of Egypt's greatest heroes."

The men rose, looking upon their leader, a deity to them, with adoring eyes.

"My advisors told me to remain in the palace. However, I refuse to leave so many great men alone to fight one of the most pressing battles of our times. We will fight for our freedom. The odds are against us, but with our burning spirits, anything can be gained. I will lead you all to the fight, and I expect us to rattle their core. Leave them to rot in the sand like the filth that they are. We cannot allow such rats to steal the glory from Egypt!"

Atem's speech, though full of false hope, had the desired effect upon his soldiers. They began cheering, their eyes burning with a fierce desire for victory. Perhaps the Assyrians would take Egypt, but damn them, they would not break through without a fight.

The Egyptians eyed the horizon, waiting. The air was tense. No man spoke. They were all deathly still, watching for their enemies, praying to their gods, thinking of their children.

It was the end of all things.

At last, through the liquified, intensely hot air of the desert, Atem spotted a massive silhoette. They rode confidently with the sun to their backs, in elaborate horse-drawn carriages. Their armor was impressive and efficient. The Egyptians were dumbstruck at the instruments the Assyrians carried. They were equipped for a slaughter.

Suddenly, a wave of arrows shot from the back of the Assyrian army and bore down upon the Egyptians. Already, men were falling. Both armies charged forward, yelling, bellowing cries for glory, leaving all fears behind them as they prepared to kill, and likewise, to be killed.

Weapons clashed. Spears tore into flesh, scattering blood across the golden sands. Atem whipped his horse into action, herding enemies on foot in a cluster only to stab them with his dagger. The Assyrians obviously had the upper hand, but Atem's army were holding their ground. It was all he had asked of them, to stand strong.

Suddenly there was a cry from an enemy soldier.

"There he is, their precious pharaoh!" he bellowed, sending nearby Assyrians into hysterics. A group of a dozen or more foot soldiers and one in a chariot charged him. Atem took out what he could with spears, and drew his dagger, poised to slit the throat of any who dared to draw too close. Loyal Egyptians rushed to protect their king, forming a human wall around him, and they were duely slaughtered. Atem slashed at his opponents, straining to anticipate their next move. He was staving them off as best he could, until they drove a sword into the side of his horse. The tortured beast collapsed to its knees and cried out. It stumbled in an attempt to regain its footing, but ultimately fell to its death, throwing its burden off with it.

Atem landed a few feet away and was immediately swarmed with more soldiers. A young Egyptian of eighteen or so stood at his pharaoh's back to help against the attackers, but was inexperienced and fell quickly. Left unguarded, one Assyrian, fraught with misplaced rage, drove a sword into Atem's back. It came through his chest. He gasped, dropped his weapon, and time seemed to stop for a moment.

His life did not flash before his eyes.

The only feelings that would register through the pained shock were feelings of loss, of failure, of sheer, unabashed regret.

The soldier harshly drew the sword from his target. Atem's knees buckled and he fell face-first into the dust. He coughed meekly, drawing a ragged breath, before being enveloped in darkness.

"Pharaoh…"

Atem opened his eyes. His entire body ached. It hurt to breath. He could feel his heart struggling to function.

"Pharaoh! You are awake!"

The wounded king turned to his addresser.

"Ishizu…our men…"

Ishizu turned away and sighed heavily.

"They are not doing well, my pharaoh. But a few soldiers were able to carry you back to the palace."

"A vain effort," Atem replied sadly. "I fear I do not have the will to go on."

Ishizu's eyes grew wide with terror.

"But pharaoh…your injuries are great, but your strength can overcome your mortal wounds."

Atem shook his head and looked away. He knew he would not live much longer. He could sense his body's last attempts to repair itself. He could feel his heartbeat growing weaker. He saw the color drain from his bronze skin. He had only to wait, and die, a dishonored king.

Ishizu herself knew that his survival was not likely. And yet, it saddened her to see such a young king pass on before he had even been given the chance to experience the joys of life. She would have given her own life then and there to save him. But she felt helpless as she stood there, waiting for him to waste away.

It was the end of all things.

"Pharaoh…what do you desire most at this moment?" she questioned quietly.

Atem pondered this, and searched through his repetoir of memories. His thoughts settled on one person he desperately wished he could say goodbye to.

"To see Yugi again," was his sincere reply. Ishizu's eyes softened. He had told her of his host in the future, who was inexplicably kind and loyal.

"He never betrayed me. I know I must have been a burden, but he stood by my side," she recalled her pharaoh saying, with uncharacteristically soft eyes. Perhaps it was why Atem chose to wear the Millennium Puzzle, despite its inherent uselessness. It made him remember.

Ishizu narrowed her eyes. She was determined to grant her pharaoh's dying wish.

"Very well," she said quietly. Atem jerked his head in her direction as her hands began to glow with a holy aura. She clutched the pharaoh's shoulders and stared deep into his soul with her piercing eyes.

"I will seal you once again within the Millennium Puzzle. However, I cannot ensure your immortality this time. When you are again released, you will live out your days in the future, as a separate entity from your previous host. It is all I have to offer with my power alone, my pharaoh. Is this pleasing to you?"

Atem smiled warmly, his eyes light with appreciation. He gave a faint nod.

"Thank you, Ishizu."

At once, a brilliant light filled the palace. Atem's body was engulfed in a blinding flash. When the light subsided, the empty shell of a king remained, motionless and still. Ishizu lifted the Millennium Puzzle from her former king's slender neck and placed it within a mahogany chest. Tears streamed down her face as she prayed.

"Please gods, give my pharaoh safe passage back to his companions."

Yugi Mutou was walking home from school, joking with his friends and enjoying the fresh sunlight of spring. It was a good day. He passed by the grocery store, a pizza parlor, a souvenir shop, and then an antique shop. He passed by these buildings every day. He never paid any mind to them. But this day was different, for as he strode passed the little antique shop, something gold and brilliant caught a ray of sun and flashed in the corner of his eye. He turned to glimpse it and gasped, alerting his friends.

"Yug', what's wrong?" Joey asked sincerely. Yugi did not reply, but instead bolted into the shop. As his friends looked in the display window, they understood why.

Yugi snatched up the Millennium Puzzle and clutched it tightly in his hands. It hurt to see it, to be reminded of the one friend he would never see again. Tears streamed from his face and he shuddered despondently.

"Oh Yami…" he whispered, "I wish you were still here."

The Puzzle immediately came alive. The eye shone brilliantly, and a figure began to form before Yugi. A sillhoette…just like his, only a bit taller. When the light faded, there stood Yami, smiling. The Millennium Puzzle dissolved into sand and fell between the young boy's fingers.

The two embraced, tears were shed, and Yugi was blubbering senselessly. Yami himself could not have felt happier. Even after his return to Egypt, his heart had remained in Domino City, centuries ahead of his time.

It was the beginning of all things…

-Fin