Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Yu-Gi-Oh, except this fic and any own characters.

Author's Note: Hi there. This is my first Yu-Gi-Oh fanfic. I think the show is great and has some interesting characters. However, I do not claim to have perfect knowledge of the series (I haven't seen it all, yet) and neither am I planning on re-telling it. AU: This story is set in Ancient Egypt. A slave girl's fortune changes when she meets the Pharaoh, but is it for the better or worse? Yami/Kisara and Kisara/Seto

Chapter One: Twist of Fate

All I wanted was to be free. I had heard stories that there was a world beyond Egypt, a world full of wonders. There were places where fire burst from the ground; a white powder that glistened and fell from the sky; mountainous structures to rival the pyramids of Egypt; and an endless expanse of blue which could be crossed to reach these other worlds and what people called the sea. How I longed to see these wonders, to travel as I pleased from one land to the next… but it could only ever be a dream. The world I was apart of was different, a place where only the strong survived. I was strong. I was still here, but for what…? The Pharaoh had demanded his pyramid be built, so all able people were forced to work. Yes, I was a slave to Pharaoh's realm like many of the other innocents, from children who had never experienced what it was like to play, to the elders of the village whose lives were cut shorter much quicker. Pharaoh ruled with an iron fist. I had never met him before as he certainly wouldn't convene with slaves. The treatment of 'his' people– that was a mockery in itself – was enough to reveal the kind of person he really was.

"You! Slave, come here!" The slave driver beckoned for the girl to go to him. She looked exhausted. Putting down the pick that she held in two hands, reluctantly the girl started towards him. All of a sudden he took a large step towards her. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her close. "When I tell you to do something, I expect you to be quick about it." He pulled her hair, so her head was tilted back and she looked straight up at him. "Do you understand?" She nodded as best as she could manage as his grip on her made it difficult. She was in pain. He gave her a wicked smile and then he forced a kiss on her lips.

It was dreadful, she had barely reached adulthood. The other slaves stopped for a moment, watching in horror, but they were too afraid to do anything. They were too weak to do anything. Most of the workers were female with the younger men recruited for Pharaoh's army. They just stared helplessly. "Get back to work," the man shouted, as he noticed they were looking in his direction. Obediently, they got back to work. I looked away too, but I couldn't just ignore it. I had to do something…

"Let her go," I demanded, the pick raised in my hand.

"You giving me orders, Slave?" he laughed at me. "What if I don't?"

"I mean it."

The slave driver tossed the girl aside. She collided with the wall and slowly sank down to the floor. "You want to fight me?" he teased. I lifted the pick higher, half-heartedly. "Give me your best shot." Holding it with two hands I swung it at him, but he caught its handle between his hands. I tried to pull it away, but his hold on it was too strong.

"Is that it?"

There was no other way, I had no choice but to let go. As I let go, I stumbled backwards. Now the man waved the pick threateningly in front of me. Quickly getting up on my knees I grabbed the knife which was in the belt at his waist and thrust it into his thigh.

"Curse you, wench!" He screamed in agony. He dropped the pick and attended to his leg. Seizing the dagger firmly with both hands, he wrenched it out. I just watched in horror as blood spilled from his wound; lines of scarlet running down to his foot. Never before had I shed the blood of another. He observed the knife in his hand that was stained with his blood and then he turned his eyes on me. "You'll pay for that!"
I was scared. Slowly he moved towards me so I began crawling backwards until I came in contact with the wall. "Now where will you go?" he looked pleased with himself. He had me cornered and he knew that just as well as I did.

"Sir, the Pharaoh has requested your presence." It was a male voice.

"I'm busy," he replied, giving me a bloodthirsty grin.

"The Pharaoh is waiting outside, Sir."

"What!" He sounded alarmed. The slave driver turned his back to me to address the other man.

"What should I tell him, Sir?"

"Nothing, it's not necessary," he told him and then he faced me again, "but get her up," he ordered the man. "She has committed a crime." The man that came towards me was a soldier. He was wearing the uniform of the Pharaoh's guard. Standing beside me, he grabbed my arm. Pulling me up from the ground, he then bound my hands. "The Pharaoh will decide your fate," the slave driver added.

The Pharaoh would decide my fate… I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or more concerned. What I had done was what I had believed to be right. I had made a choice. Although I wasn't free, my life had been in my hands… but now it was in Pharaoh's hands.

The guard grabbed a hold of my arm, and pulled me outside. The slave driver followed. The sun was high and therefore the sand was hot. I could feel the singeing heat of each grain on my bare feet. We started towards a large white tent adorned with gold, which was completely open on one side. There was a figure in a chair. I couldn't see his face, we weren't close enough yet. Two other figures on either side of the seated figure held large fans of white feathers. Was it the Pharaoh then…? When we reached the tent, the slave driver bowed, "My Lord Pharaoh, you summoned me?"

"Yes," he replied. "I believe your report is due."

"Whatever you wish, my Lord…" said the slave driver. Then he began his report.

So that was Pharaoh Yami… He looked very different to how I had imagined him to be. He seemed of about a medium build. I couldn't tell about his height as he was seated. His face was full of youth, yet there seemed to be an air of wisdom about him. Now that I had seen him, he didn't look like a tyrant… He looked at me suddenly. This was the first time that I had seen him. I couldn't help myself. I just gawped back at him. Our eyes made contact. It was strange, like I was looking into a deep well.

"Down on your knees," the guard hit the back of my legs with a rod, forcing me to fall forward. I closed my eyes for a second because of the pain.

"Who is this girl?" one of Pharaoh's priests demanded.

"She is a criminal," answered the slave driver.

"State her crime."

"She attacked me with my own knife for no reason at –"

"That's a lie!" I shouted out, glancing at the Pharaoh.

"How dare you speak out of turn in the presence of the Pharaoh?" The priest pointed his staff at me. "Do you know what the penalty is?" He gave me a sharp look, but the Pharaoh held up his hand, signalling to the priest to let it lie.

"What is your name?" began the Pharaoh. "Speak."

"I have no need for a name. I am a slave."

"How do you plead?"

"Guilty," my response was adamant.

"So you admit attacking him?"

"Yes," I sighed "but there was a reason."

"Unbind her hands," ordered the Pharaoh.

"But…my Lord?" The slave driver couldn't believe what he was hearing, which was evident from the bewildered expression on his face. He wasn't the only one. I didn't understand it either. The guard untied my hands. I rubbed my wrists gently where the rope had grazed them.

"You dare to question my decision?"

"No great Pharaoh."

"Then leave us," the Pharaoh commanded. With that the slave driver gave a bow and as he made his leave he glanced down at me, his face full of rage. The Pharaoh's gaze was once again on me. "Stand," said the Pharaoh. I did as he said and slowly got up on my feet. "You said you had no need for a name," he paused briefly and stood up, "but now you do." He started towards me. What did he mean…? What use did a slave have for a name…? "What do you wish to be called?" he asked, tipping my head back gently so that I was looking straight at him.

"If the Pharaoh wishes that I be called by a name," I began slowly, "then call me Kisara." Feeling uncomfortable now I looked away.

"Very well, Kisara." The Pharaoh went back to his chair. "From now on you will live in the palace."

"The palace, but …?" I drifted off mid-sentence. The priest gave me a harsh look. I was questioning the Pharaoh. That was forbidden.

However, Pharaoh Yami still answered "I admire your spirit."

"My Lord, I must object," began the priest. "You cannot let her live in the palace." He had a look of protest about his face. "By doing so, you are risking your own life."

"Seto, I trust in your judgement, but in this case I would have to disagree. Kisara will live in the palace now," he affirmed. "See to it that she has fresh clothes and have a room prepared once we get back to the palace."

"As you wish, Pharaoh," said the priest known as Seto.

Should I continue? Please let me know what you think.

Thanks for reading,

Lady Leonhart 09/09/04