I seem to like putting Atem's priests in dark rooms with the sleeping reincarnations of friends long past. And not even with any yaoi to make it interesting.
And I apologize for the beginning – I have no poetic talent at all.
The Elf in the Easel
There once was a kingdom. It was a small kingdom, residing in its entirety on an island in the East Lands. On the high end of the island sat a castle. In spite of this kingdom's size, the castle was just as magnificent as any castle should be. Its stairs swept up the cliff face and its walls were covered in portraits and colorful landscapes. For this castle's king was a painter.
This night was not an extraordinary night for the king. He knew of no unusual occurrences as he slept on the sofa in his studio, no abnormalities taking place in the very room where he dreamt of his beautiful queen.
Of course, this king's life had been filled with abnormalities. Perhaps for him, having an elf sitting on his windowsill at night was not abnormal at all, and so he slept on.
The elf however, did find this to be abnormal, though not entirely surprising.
"Ahknadin, my old friend," the elf rubbed a muscled hand over his eyes, "you're going to disgrace yourself again."
He looked around the room filled wall to wall with canvases of monsters. Everywhere he looked, he saw colors, jaws, and eyes. The elf wondered briefly how the king was able to sleep with so many watching.
The elf stood and stretched his long limbs, careful not to knock over an easel with a horde of goblins standing near him. He didn't want to disturb the power he could feel pulsing from the finished painting.
It felt good, he thought, to breathe in real air again. It had, after all, been a very long time since he was last in the world of the living.
The elf's name was Karim, though he had not been called that in a very, very long time.
Karim leaned his head to one side and flinched slightly when he felt his neck pop. This seemed to satisfy him for the time being since he stopped stretching and instead began to pick his way to the wall on his left. He stopped and stood right beside the sofa where the king – known to most the world as Pegasus – was asleep.
The elf looked down at his old friend and shook his head. "We beasts are supposed to be sealed, Ahknadin. What are you up to?"
Hanging above the sofa were Pegasus' latest works. A blue giant, a red dragon, and a gold bird stared back down at him. Karim tried to ignore the shiver that ran up his spine as he sensed the immense power in these three gods.
"This will not end well," he whispered to himself.
Karim then noticed that the section of wall near the door was covered in pictures, though these ones had clearly not been painted. These were photographs that had been pinned right into the wall. Karim walked over to them and squinted to see in the dim light.
Karim was surprised – perhaps, he thought, more surprised than he should have been – to see that he recognized almost all the people in the photos. They wore clothing that he was not accustomed to seeing, but he could still identify Seth, Isis, a small boy that bore a rather striking resemblance to the Thief King, and…
The elf smiled. "It's good to see you again, my pharaoh." It seemed that Ahknadin was seeking the millennium items. If that was the case, then what had happened to Karim's own item? Shada had been left to oversee their safe-keeping. Perhaps he still had them. If so, then he should be more careful with them. With the shadow games being awoken once again, the items needed to be closely monitored. Knowing Ahknadin, he was likely already causing havoc with the one he had.
The Eye glinted in response.
The moonlight reflecting off gold brought Karim's attention back to the room, and he scanned the paintings once more. This time, he saw an easel that he couldn't believe he missed when he first entered the room from the window on the opposite wall. The painting standing there, in the middle of the room with all the other paintings forming a semi-circle around it, was of a beautiful woman with a blue dress and an innocent face.
An angel among demons, as it were.
There was no doubt it Karim's mind that this was the queen of this island. He also had a strong suspicion that she was already dead. Perhaps that was why Ahknadin wanted the millennium items once again.
Ahknadin had a habit, Karim thought, of doing wrong things for the right reasons. Love and anger were always most prominent in Ahknadin's heart. First he tried to destroy his own nephew to bring his son to the throne, and now he was resurrecting the shadow games for the woman he loved. It made it very difficult to be properly mad at him for all the fuss he caused.
Karim shook his head at the sleeping king. "You will fail, my friend," he said, "as well you should. And in the end, I fear you will be left once again with neither love nor anger. This path leads only to emptiness and regret."
It was difficult to feel anything but pity for Ahknadin anymore.
Karim could do nothing for his old friend but watch and help his pharaoh however possible. And so, the elf stepped quietly through the maze of paintings and magic back to the window where he started his night.
He faded away in the moonlight, back into the painting with the name Celtic Guardian scrawled in the corner.
The end... for now.