Author's Note: Hi everyone! It's been quite a while since I uploaded anything new, but the fantastic motivation of a Seto x Kisara Week on Tumblr has really got some inspiration bubbling again. I hope you all like this! It's very loosely based on the prompt "Person A is an assassin hired to kill Person B who is an important person AU".

The men told her it was simple. Hers was a very small part to play. Just stay in the cage and get the boy's attention. Why they had to kill this boy was something she didn't quite understand; he was the son of a High Priest who had killed a lot of people.

So he too had to die. That's what the adults said.

It sounded simple.

So she had been bundled into the wheeled cage by her mother, kissed on the forehead and told she was doing the will of the gods. And out they had set from their small encampment of tents many nights ago, her father one of the group travelling south along the Nile and towards Memphis, the capital of their land. The village where the boy lived was a long day's travel from Meidum and the deteriorating mastaba pyramid of Pharaoh Sneferu.

Two months on the dusty road had brought them most of the way from their settlement on the border of the Mitanni lands. They hadn't lived out there in the Egyptian hinterlands forever; the older adults often told tales of a place called Elna, the place of blood and tragedy. The place the High Priest had turned red with his dark magic.

Yawning in the dark evening, she shivered and looked around for the blanket her mother had gifted to her on their departure.

"I've hidden it, little one. We've seen the boy riding from the village earlier today; tonight is the night, gods willing."

Her kindest uncle smiled as he whispered, fingers brushing along the outside of her wheeled cage – her personal sanctuary. During the day and the high sun it was a saviour from the harsh heat, with torn canvas blocking out the searing winds and protecting her pale skin. But that changed when Ra dipped below the horizon, signalling the journey of Horus into the underworld and his rebirth as the shining sun disk rose the next morning – then her casings and tokens were stowed away beneath the wagon and she was given the guise of prisoner.

"Be ready Kisara, this is what we have been preparing for. This is why the gods sent you to us."

A kiss on her brow through the cage bars and she nodded her head, a small smile barging out; her father always told her of how the gods sent her to their people; sent her to avenge all of their loved ones killed without proper burial, forever wandering and fleeing both Anubis' judgement and Ammit's ravenous jaws. The ghosts demanded retribution and the goddess Ma'at, the goddess of truth and justice, had sent them a powerful weapon to wreak that revenge.

So she had practiced for as long as she could remember; letting her mind slip into unawareness and letting the great Dragon take control. Years of perfecting the technique still had its problems; countless times she had woken on the ground to see the damage her monster had caused ... the damage she had caused.

But it was all in the plan of the gods and they had sent her for this mission.

So Kisara woke with start a few hours later, a different uncle rapping along the wooden bars. It was time to put their plan into action. She cried and called for help, her father and uncles shouted obscenities and talked about how they would sell her for a high price once they reached Memphis. Once or twice she even believed their squabbling over a reasonable price.

What would happen after the boy was killed?

Watching as the campfire sent sparks into the inky night sky, the young girl shivered and longed for her mother's blanket again. If she was doing the will of the gods, then why was she always locked up like some kind of animal she had seen pass by in many caravans? The fire looked inviting and she wouldn't mind sitting upon her father's knee as he told some tale of the barbarian Hittites to the east, but he never done such things around the other men. When they were around she had to be content with a rushed smile and whispered words. They feared her too much to let her walk freely amongst them.

A rustle in the nearby scrub drew her attention and she took a breath to call the men; this was what they had been waiting for. The breath caught in her throat and the child watched as he sprinted from the bushes and soundlessly made it to the cage's locked door. Remembering her mission, Kisara scooted closer to the bars and sent a nervous look to the crackling fire.

"Who are you?"

She needed to hear his name; to be sure she was taking revenge on the correct person. He looked about her age, maybe a year or two older. All she had been told was his name and that his father had been a very bad man. Simple. And her small part was to let the Dragon take control.

"Shhh, I'll let you out. Come."

She watched in awe as he undid some kind of catch and swung the cage door open. She should have called to her father, her uncles, their comrades. But all she did was let the boy pull her forward and leaned against him as he helped her out of the wagon; what a liberty! Looking around for any sign of her blanket, she panicked as a friend of her father finished relieving his bladder and appeared from the bushes; she had never liked that particular man.

"You little-!"

In an instant the big man had been flipped onto his back and the boy's hand found hers.

"Now!"

This wasn't the plan she had been taught for years. Her mission was to kill the High Priest's son, not be rescued by some stranger. But she liked this boy as he pulled her with him and gave her a boost onto his horse. He was strong and she felt safe for the first time in her life as he sat behind her and urged the horse into a startled gallop.

"They got away! The girl ran away!"

The girl ... they always called her that. Never her name, but always the girl; the girl with the gift, the weapon, the power. Now she was the girl with a choice. Why was this boy saving her? She could go back to her father and her cage or she could see where this horse went.

He asked her if they were following; the horse was too fast for the journey-beleaguered camels her convoy owned. No pursuers. But he jumped from the horse then and told her to carry on to the next town – maybe the Priest's son would be in that town? She knew his name and knew her mission with or without her entourage of fearful captors. But she felt safe with this new boy and his kind eyes.

Turning as the horse galloped on and her rescuer lagged behind the animal, she shouted above the pounding of hooves.

"What is your name?"

"Seto!"

Somewhere in her young chest, below what would develop into a breast she felt her heart skip a beat. That was the name she had been trained to recognise. Even as the horse continued on its panicked path, the girl felt her head pound and her vision clouded over; the Dragon wanted to show itself and she had her mission.

But she also had a choice.

In the burning remains of a village to the east of Meidum, the unknowing son of a High Priest watched with hateful tears as the slaver he had tripped, the very man responsible for his mother's death fell prey to the mighty monster that appeared in the smouldering sky.

So the Legendary Dragon earned its reputation as a killer that night, the white lightning scorching the sand black and roasting the corpse black as a crisp. Revenge was nowhere near as sweet as the child had been led to believe. Rebellion on the other hand had a much more satisfying tang to it.

A/n- Thanks for taking the time to read everyone, I really appreciate it! xxx