Coming Home Part One
by Ghost Wulf
Dedicated to: Lego
Thank you for being my biggest supporter! I'd put hearts here if I could.
Prologue
Egypt: December 23, 1992
Seeing the future was neither a gift nor a curse. A craftsman was never called upon to determine whether his hammer was a gift or a curse; a politician never had to answer the same for her speeches; a teacher never bewailed the curse of lesson plans, and neither did he sing their praises—all were simply tools. An aspect of the job at hand.
Seeing the future was the same. Ishizu Ishtar had a job to do, and the Millennium Necklace was her tool. Her forays into the future were not merely for pleasure or selfish reasons.
Yet her frequent visitor could not seem to grasp that.
"What news of the girl?" he said. His greeting was the same every time, which would have become tiresome even if she couldn't see it coming.
She ignored the robed man and simply moved to the next candle in line. She cupped her hand around the top and brought the white candle she held close enough to light its sister. Methodically, she lit the next candle in line, the next, and the next. The man behind her said nothing until she'd completed the row. The friendly firelight cast a warm glow over the cold yellow stone, and it eased something in her spirit.
"Special prayers tonight?" he asked.
"To Horus," she said quietly.
A drop of wax touched her finger, burning the skin. She returned the candle she held to its rightful place at the head of the line, but she couldn't take her eyes from the spot of red it had left on her knuckle.
"You're in need of protection?"
She shook her head. The prayers weren't for herself.
"Protection for the pharaoh, then?"
Ishizu touched her throat where the Millennium Necklace sat like a weight. For all her noble thoughts of duty, her prayers were also not for the pharaoh.
"My brother—" She had to swallow before continuing. "He receives the tombkeeper's initiation tonight."
"Happy birthday to him," Shadi said, and his blue eyes were cold. "And here you are, miles away."
She gripped the necklace, turned to face him with a hard stare. "It is not my place to interfere in the will of the gods—you were meant to have learned that the hard way."
"Does it appear I missed the lesson?" he said. He reached for the last candle in line. His ethereal fingers passed directly through the wax, and the candle burned on, untouched.
Ishizu's stomach pinched, and she turned away quickly. She knelt at the room's altar, smoothing her dress and tucking it beneath her knees.
"If you'll excuse me," she said. She took a deep breath and slowly raised her arms, but before she could speak, Shadi moved in front of her, standing directly in the altar like a tree that had broken through the stone.
"What news of the girl?" he said, quiet and intense.
Ishizu lowered her arms. "It is not my place."
"The entire future is your place. Such is your gift."
"It is not a gift," Ishizu said, heat in the edge of her words. "It is my sacred duty. I am above self, above passions, above the entrapments of humanity. My service is to the nameless pharaoh."
"Above the entrapments of humanity . . ." The corner of Shadi's mouth lifted, and he stared around at the curved line of candles, at the altar. "Sure you are, child."
"I am not a child. I am—"
"You've walked this earth for fifteen years." His eyes locked back to hers. "I have lived your years a hundred times over and more."
Despite herself, Ishizu clenched her fists. "I know your age. I know all that has happened in the world, all that will happen."
"No you don't." His eyes crinkled, and his mouth curved; he seemed almost ready to laugh at her, to mock her. "You could if you looked, but you don't look. Not even at the life of the pharaoh, your 'duty.'"
Ishizu pushed herself to her feet, almost losing her balance as her dress tangled beneath her. Hot color stained her face and neck.
"I have seen the rise of the pharaoh. He will return to the world—"
"Three years and twelve days from now," Shadi said. He stepped forward, detaching himself from the altar. "You've told me. And yet you haven't looked beyond that."
"I command you to leave," she said, gripping her necklace.
Normally at words like that, Shadi would leave. He would always return, of course, but in the five or six times he'd previously appeared, her lack of cooperation had driven him away in the end.
But apparently, this night was different for both of them.
"You command me to nothing," Shadi said. He reached beneath his robe and withdrew an artifact, a short staff of gold with arms on either side that each dangled a small platform—the Millennium Scales, marked in the center with the same Eye of Horus that decorated her necklace. He extended the scales, held the artifact just in front of her heart, but neither side dipped. "You lack power over me just as I lack power over you."
She backed away, but he simply advanced.
"What of the time after the pharaoh's rise?" he pressed.
"I have no need to see," she said, but her fingers trembled, and in the back of her mind, she heard the familiar whisper of her Millennium Item, the whisper that called her to delve into the secrets of the world. She swallowed hard, pushed the whispers away, and said, "After the pharaoh's rise, the seven items and their holders will be drawn to him. We will all return our items to the final holder, and the darkness that was unleashed 3,000 years ago will be sealed forever by his hand."
"Every item holder will surrender their power so willingly?" This time, Shadi did laugh. "The items that have betrayed him in the past will simply forget their grievances and bow subservience to the throne that created them? The eye will no longer whisper arrogance in its holder's mind, the ring will no longer remember betrayal, and the rod—"
"It is prophesied so!" Ishizu shouted.
Silence filled the room after her outburst. The candlelight tossed shadows on the wall that she felt in her own heart.
"Then look," Shadi said. "If you are so certain of the truth in prophecy, you have nothing to fear from what you will see."
And there was the truth of it. Ishizu had been raised with prophecies in place of bedtime stories, had been told over and again how the nameless pharaoh had halted a darkness that would have swallowed the world, sacrificing even his own life to do so; how his spirit would return to complete the victory; and how the tombkeepers were privileged to guard his tomb, the seven sacred artifacts, and the prophesies themselves until that day arrived.
And on her twelfth birthday, when she tied the Millennium Necklace to her throat, when her father said, "Look, and behold," she had seen the completion of the Millennium Puzzle by a small Japanese boy her brother's age. She had seen the return of the pharaoh's spirit to the world, and her heart had nearly broken with joy.
Until she saw what came next. Then she averted her eyes.
Now, she averted her eyes from Shadi in the same way.
As if he carried the Millennium Eye instead of the scales, as if he could read her mind, he said, "You have looked."
She glanced around the room, and the shadows seemed larger, closer. She took a step nearer to Shadi, and her voice was nearly inaudible when she spoke.
"There is darkness," she said, "in the pharaoh."
Shadi's gaze softened, and he lowered the scales until they were hidden beneath his robe again.
"There is darkness in all of us," he said.
She shook her head fiercely. "Not like this."
She licked her lips. Though her father was miles away with Marik, she expected him to jump from the shadows at any moment, to throw her to the ground and whip her for her insolence to the pharaoh.
Shadi said, "What do you see?"
"Shadows," she whispered, squeezing her eyes closed. "He strikes at everything. Like an animal."
"Like a frightened animal?"
"No, he isn't frightened. But they are before he's done." She opened her eyes again, and they burned. She shook her head. "I can't."
Shadi leaned closer, his sharp eyes locked on hers. "Look further."
"I can't."
"Look further," he said slowly, deliberately, holding her gaze until she understood.
She swallowed and took a deep breath, but her lungs still felt short of air. She opened her mind, and the necklace warmed against her skin.
At first, it was the same—battles fought in the darkness, the awful whisper of the shadows, and blood reflected in the pharaoh's eyes—and Ishizu almost retreated again. But she stayed, and she looked beyond, and after weeks, the pharaoh stepped from his cocoon of shadows to face an opponent in the light.
Ishizu opened her eyes. Her shoulders sagged in relief, and the candlelight flickered brightly in the small space, warming her skin.
Shadi appeared unfazed by her newfound hope. "Look further."
"You don't even know what I saw," she said a bit childishly.
His face remained blank. "Did you see seven Millennium Item holders peacefully surrendering their control?"
"Three of us are here in these very halls," she said. "Do you plan to withhold your item from the pharaoh?"
His cold blue eyes bored into hers. "Does your brother?"
Ishizu pulled away. "Marik and I will fly to Japan when the pharaoh awakens."
"Does he know that?"
"Of course he does." But the words burned her tongue. Marik knew his sacred duty and destiny, but her father had forbidden her to speak of the pharaoh's rising in any specifics to anyone—even to him. It was her burden to bear alone. She had only told Shadi the date of the pharaoh's return because he already knew the location. After all, his status as tombkeeper dated back further than any member of her own line.
She stepped around him, returned to the altar.
"I have unfinished business," she said as she knelt.
"You do. Look further."
She tried to ignore him, but when she closed her eyes, her vision opened. The holder of the Millennium Eye threatened the pharaoh, trapped the soul of someone dear to his mortal vessel. Ishizu felt sick. She tried to pull back, to return to her body, but the images continued. She saw a dock, a cruise liner, heard the sound of the ocean and the conversations of tournament players ready for competition. The pharaoh stood at the railing, looked out over the waves to an island overgrown with trees and crowned by a castle. She saw within the castle to where the Millennium Eye glinted from its empty socket, and the man bearing it smiled and raised a glass of wine in a toast as if he could see her.
She let out a gasp and turned away, but she was still trapped in the vision. The bearer of the Millennium Ring stepped forward from the shadows, cornered the pharaoh in the darkness. The pharaoh fought back, escaped, but on a temporary victory, and behind him, the pointed daggers of the ring strained against their container, waiting for another chance to be set free.
And Ishizu couldn't understand why she wasn't there—why she hadn't seen herself approach the pharaoh, surrender her necklace, offer her aid.
Shadi was there. Within the castle, he approached the pharaoh's vessel, offered his counsel. But he did not surrender his item. The Millennium Puzzle alone gave its aid to the pharaoh when he triumphed in the gaming tournament and came face to face with the man who'd poked and prodded him there like a puppet. The bearer of the Millennium Eye was smiling all the way up to the moment before his defeat. For that long, he believed in his own victory, his own power.
"I don't understand," Ishizu murmured. She felt hot everywhere, like there was a fever raging beneath her skin.
From above and around her, she heard an ethereal voice that said, "Look further."
She didn't want to, but she had no choice.
It was not the pharaoh who claimed the Millennium Eye. After his victory, the pharaoh turned away, surrendered control to his mortal vessel and retreated into the shadows. In his absence, the bearer of the Millennium Ring stepped forward. He battled for the eye against an already-weakened man, and even without her vision, Ishizu could have predicted the outcome. The bearer of the Millennium Ring stepped away with two items and turned cold, sharp eyes on the direction the pharaoh had gone. Then he followed.
The ocean passed again beneath a different cruise liner, and the days passed from there. The Millennium Ring holder made no move. He smiled and laughed with the pharaoh's mortal vessel, and the pharaoh remained dormant, and it was as if she were peering into an ordinary life.
"I don't understand," Ishizu moaned again. None of it was transpiring as it should. And where was she? Why did day after day after day pass without any sign of her? She could never forget her duty, never betray it. If the entire world turned on its head, she would still serve the pharaoh. It was her destiny. Hers and—
A young woman stepped off a bus into the city. The Millennium Bracelet glinted from her wrist as she shaded her eyes against the sun and searched the horizon for something she couldn't see.
The puzzle, the eye, the ring, the scales, the bracelet. All items had been drawn to the pharaoh except two.
Hers.
And her brother's.
"Marik," Ishizu whispered, and her throat burned. Every bit of her burned. "Marik, please—"
And that harsh, unfeeling voice answered back from the clouds. "Look further."
"Your precious girl arrived," Ishizu shot back. "There is nothing more to see."
The sky gave no answer, offered no help, and the images were still moving, sweeping her along like a current while she struggled to find her feet, to grab something and drag herself out, anything before—
The pharaoh's mortal vessel and the bearer of the Millennium Ring walked shoulder to shoulder down a street, discussing something frivolous. A dark-robed man sat at a table on the corner, unnoticed by them until he called out. His gaze was innocent, his smile welcoming, but Ishizu saw behind his eyes.
She saw.
"Horus," she whispered, her throat raw, her eyes burning. "Great Falcon of the Sky and Lord of Healing."
Standing against the railing of a ship, looking out over the waves just as the pharaoh had done, she saw—
"I ask protection. I beg protection."
The Eye of Horus glowing on his forehead, glowing on the Millennium Rod in his hand, she saw—
"Horus, Lord of Healing." She felt the tears on her cheeks, but she couldn't close her eyes in a vision. "Great Falcon of the Sky. Protect my brother. I beg you. Protect my brother. I beg you."
Mirth in his face and darkness in his smile, she saw Marik control a man from thousands of miles away. With more efficiency and less effort than the Millennium Eye holder could ever have dreamed of, she saw him force a pawn to dance. The man back in the city led the pharaoh's vessel to an abandoned building, set a fire. The boy screamed for help, but the only one there was the bearer of the Millennium Ring, and his sharp eyes took in the entire situation, and he never moved a muscle, and he laughed.
As did Marik.
Ishizu grabbed at her throat and wrenched her hands away. The vision broke, crashing her world back to the small altar room where all the candles had burned down to stubs. She was on her side on the floor, the cold stone like ice against her fevered skin. The Millennium Necklace she'd torn from her throat burned in her hands like a white coal, but she couldn't let go. She stared into it, heaving her breath in through gasps, and the hollow Eye of Horus stared back dispassionately.
"What did you see?" Shadi asked just as dispassionately.
"I have to get to Marik," she said, but she didn't look away from the necklace, and she didn't move.
"As I feared."
Slowly, she turned her eyes to him. Her fingers curled tighter around the artifact in her hands, pressing the sharp gold points like teeth into her skin.
"Did you know?" she asked.
"Of the two of us, only you have that power. But unlike you, I was unafraid to look. What I saw was your father."
"Don't—" She nearly threw the necklace but couldn't. She dragged herself to her feet. The door loomed in the shadows at the far end of the room, a gaping mouth waiting to swallow her. She could start running now, be back to her father's chambers within the hour, back with Marik. But what would she find?
The necklace whispered at the edge of her vision, but she refused to look. This time she would see with her own eyes.
"I can reason with him," she said, and she wasn't sure if she meant her father or Marik. She'd cleaned the wounds on Odion's back a hundred times before, and he had repaid the favor as needed, but her father had never laid a hand on Marik. The initiation wouldn't change that—her father would take more pride in Marik now than ever. Marik was stubborn; he always had been. He resented tradition. But now that she knew where that would lead, she could talk to him, help him understand. That was probably why she hadn't seen herself in the future, because it was important for her to see all of that in order to change it, to make things be the way they were supposed to be.
Perhaps seeing the future was a gift after all.
"Your only hope now," Shadi said, "is the pharaoh."
Ishizu reached up and tied the necklace around her throat once more. There was no need to hurry. She would return home and help Marik recover from the initiation. Then she would talk to him, address his rebellion, and prevent it from going any further. All would be as it was meant to be.
She moved carefully to each candle, extinguishing what was left of every stub until only one remained: the fresh candle she had brought for her return journey. She lifted it in its lamp and turned to the door.
"There is no avoiding destiny," she said calmly. "Marik's destiny is to serve the pharaoh, as is mine."
Shadi said nothing, and Ishizu moved confidently into the darkness.
Note: Welcome, readers! I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter will go live Thursday, September 6th, 2018.