Wake up, Game King. Wake up.
What is it?
You're needed.
Again?
Again.
What now?
Nothing you can't handle.
How am I going? Can I take some of the others?
You will take nothing and no one with you.
But-They will be sent after you. You must find them yourself.
Wait…find them? I'm going back?You're going back. But not quite the same. Do not worry. We have faith in you, and there will be others to help you.
Where will they be from?The Shadow Realm.
The Shad-It's time to go.
Already? But I-Good luck, Atemu.
The warm darkness vanished in a flash of white light. Images passed before him at lightening speed…
A woman bent over him with a bottle…
A man, tall and bearish, holding a teddy bear that he struggled to reach…
A thick charcoal colored carpet he'd just face planted into…
His bed, shaped like a blue racecar…
A birthday cake with the number 6 on it…
A golden retriever puppy named Charley…
The first time he was beaten up on the playground…
Self defense lessons with a scary lady named Mrs. Hawthorne…
The first time he beat someone else up on the playground…
His braces. Always with red bands…
Getting his braces stuck with those of Grace Sing, and the fact that it was a dare…
Getting stuck to braces again, this time belonging to Justin Wilkes, under the mistletoe…
Being invited to prom in freshman year…
His mother fainting when he brought home a straight A report card…
First time he got drunk…
His father dying…
His sixteenth birthday, when he broke his left arm…
Getting the keys to his car, a Jeep Kodiak…
Riiiiinnnnngggg! No, he wouldn't get up…he wanted to remember his dream…his dream…what had it been about? He'd been called…called…Game King? What was a…a Shadow…shadow what? Who were the others?
"Atemu! Get up! You're going to be late!"
Atemu…yes, that was his name, wasn't it? But it was…was more somehow…how? There was someth-
"Dr Bailey will murder you if you're late! So will I!"
Who? Bailey?…Who was…"OhmiGod! I'm late!" He kicked the blankets off and scrambled out of bed. He stumbled, finding himself on legs…much longer than they should have been? No time to think about it, he was late. Where was his bag? By the desk? Why was the desk…never mind that now.
A quick dive into the closet yielded a sleeveless black shirt and jeans. He added a heavy belt with a pair of chain loops in it that hung down to his back pockets. His hand reached for a silver stud with an attached chain and cuff. But his ears weren't pierced…were they? They were. Odd.
No time to think. He snatched up his bag and shot down the stairs. Strange…it was left turn into the kitchen…why did he think it was a right? His mother had left a peanut butter and strawberry slice sandwich on toast beside a bottle of cranberry juice. Breakfast. Balancing both in one hand, he snatched up the Soup At Hand sitting on the counter and bolted for the entry. A quick peek out the window showed him a windy, overcast day. Definitely a day for a jacket. He sat his things down on the gossip bench by the door and dove into the coat closet. He emerged carrying his boots and a coat. The boots were black leather, and buckled up halfway to his knees. The coat was also black, and went from throat to ankles with a flaring bottom that allowed him to run easily. The juice went into one pocket, and the Soup at Hand found a home in his bag. Then he was out the door and running. He couldn't miss the bus.
He made it. Just barely. And once he'd found a seat, he sat there, wondering why he was riding Bus 18, when he'd always taken Route 47 to get to school. His stop was mid-way along the route, and the bus filled up quickly. He dreaded the moment when someone would sit beside him. Would he know them? Of course he would. He'd been riding this bus for over three years.
His seatmate was…oddly familiar. He didn't understand why. He'd never seen him before in his…or had he? Something about the thick purple hair and laughing green eyes brought to mind a game…what game?
"Mornin' Atemu! Atemu? Hey, anybody home?"
"Hmm? Oh, good morning…um…" Why couldn't he remember the name? He knew this guy, had practically been raised with him…right?
"Matt, remember? Your best friend since preschool? The guy you've hung out with forever? Me?" Of course. Matt. They'd been together for almost as long as he could remember. Matt and he had their cubbies side-by-side in preschool, had spent the night at each other's houses all the time, had gone to school together for ages. Hadn't they? Why did his brain keep giving him names like Tea and Joey and Tristan when it was Matt? Who were those others? Why did they sound familiar? It had something to do with history, with his father, with…his name.
"Oh, right. Sorry. I'm just…tired, is all." Matt-was that really his name?- reached over and pressed a hand against Atemu's forehead.
"Huh. No fever. Are you sure you're- uhn!" The youth stiffened, pulling his hand away and pressing it against his chest. "What…what's happening?…Atemu, what-nnh!- did you…do…to me?" He curled up as much as was possible on the seat, fingers scrabbling against his shirt. "It…hurts…my chest…my head…Atemu, make it…make it stop…please!" Atemu stared at Matt, frightened. What was going on? Why had just a touch done this? Why didn't anyone else notice?
"Matt, I-I don't know. I can't- I didn't…just…just hang on, okay? 'til we get to school. I'll take you to the nurse…she'll know. She can help." The bus rounded the last corner between them and the school gates…passed through the gates…stopped behind the miniature theatre…opened its doors. Atemu got up quickly, dragging Matt with him and getting him off the bus. Halfway to the school doors, Matt straightened up sharply, nearly knocking Atemu over.
"Come with me." He whispered, and grabbed the startled teenager by the arm and towing him away from the doors.
"Matt, what are- I thought you- where are you taking me?" Atemu was given no answer. Matt pulled him into a secluded corner hidden from view by some juniper trees.
"Atemu? Do you know who I am?" he asked. His voice had changed somehow. It was so strange, yet familiar…who had sounded like that?
"Know who you are? Matt, what's going on? You were just…I don't know what, and now you're messing around? If this is a joke, it's not very funny."
"You don't remember me? And on the bus…your memories haven't returned?" Atemu jerked away from Matt, backing into the corner in an attempt to get further from him. His eyes had an eerie glow to them, and it scared him.
Matt…what happened?…it's something…something…Magician?…why did that come to mind?…What did magic have to do with this?
"Quit messing around. You're really starting to freak me out. What are you talking about?" Matt sighed heavily, and flopped down onto the grass. Atemu stared. Matt never flopped. Nearly everything he did was deliberate, and graceful…usually anyway. His posture reminded him of…of…Dark? Who or what was Dark? Dark what? What did it mean?
"Damn. Now we're in trouble. That must be one stubborn kid you were put in. I didn't have any trouble with mi- where do you think you're going?"
"Away from you!" Atemu snapped, trying to shake off Matt's hand. "I don't know what's going on, but I think you should stop taking whatever it is you're on and get some help, 'cuz you're not the Matt I know." Much to his surprise, Matt started laughing.
"Of course I'm not. I am Mahaddo, the first real friend you ever had…Pharaoh. When you come to your senses, you might try looking your name up in the encyclopedia. Maybe you'll remember if you're reminded. Come find me when you're the Atemu I used to know." With that, Matt got to his feet and left. Atemu stayed behind, wondering just what was going on.
Mahaddo…he was…was…who?…the Ring…Magus of Illusion…but what does it mean? What happened to my friend? Why do I…I feel like this is all wrong somehow…WHY!?!?!?