"A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies."
― Alfred Tennyson
His skin was a shade so light. He looked so pale compared to the image her mind was still able to recreate. He was more petite, too. Instead of a lean but sculpted body he possessed a very slender, almost scrawny looking frame. But he was still as beautiful as he had ever been to her because she knew it was Him, her King, her God.
His eyes. Those wine colored eyes, a mix of crimson and purple, held the same determination and strength they had always had.
His hair was the same rare tri-colored mane he had sported in ancient times. She longed to run her dainty, tanned fingers through the silky thickness of it.
This was not his body but she craved to touch it nonetheless. Her own body was long gone, too, buried deep underneath Egypt's sands, lying in a tomb unbeknownst to all humankind.
But she was comfortable with her reincarnation's physical shape; the shape of Isis Ishtar.
Isis had grown into a beautiful woman and rivaled even the Necklace's spirit in beauty. She could even spot traces of her own complexion in the raven-haired woman's facial features and her original eye-color manifested itself when she had taken over Isis's body, turning a cold icy-blue into the color of blood.
"My King …" she breathed as she approached the Pharaoh. "It is really you."
Her eyes, now rather ruby of color than a bloody crimson, sparkled with a thin layer of tears and her hands clasped the fabric of her silky dress across her chest. "Oh how I mi – longed to finally meet you, my King."
Wine-colored eyes widened in mild surprise as they beheld the willowy figure of a beautiful dark-tanned woman. And then their eyes locked for the first time in 3000 years.
An unbearable yearning crept up inside of her. She wanted to kiss those lips that were not his; wanted to touch the pale skin that did not belong to him, wanted to … make love to this body even though she had never met its original owner. It was terrible. She had to compose herself.
The Pharaoh showed no sign of remembering who she was and her heart sank a little despite knowing the reason why. How could he remember when he had erased every single memory of his past life?
"Please forgive my impudence, my King. I am Isis Ishtar, member of the tomb keeper family who watched over your tomb and guarded your secret for three millennia." she introduced herself, bowing a little and speaking her fundamental lie.
She was not Isis Ishtar. She was just the spirit of a dead Egyptian woman controlling her body.
Seemingly speechless, the Pharaoh simply uttered: "Uhm, It is nice meeting you … Isis." and nodded his head in acknowledgement.
His voice. It was the same deep but smooth voice he possessed in ancient times. Its sound made her heart light up and she smiled.
"Wait, aren't you the woman who hosts this exhibition?" a brunette girl with azure eyes, who seemingly accompanied the King, asked.
"I am indeed." Isis answered, her smile waning. "I chose to arrange this exhibition here in Domino City, Japan because my millennium item told me of your return and the location I would find you, my King." she explained, solely talking to the Pharaoh.
His eyes fell upon the golden circlet around her slender neck. He recognized the eye of Horus, sitting in between the gap of the woman's protruding collarbones, gleaming with the same dangerous golden sheen like the one engraved on his own millennium item.
"It is called the Millennium Necklace. And if it allows me, I am able to view glimpses of the future and the past."
"The past?" the Pharaoh asked, exited.
"I know you seek answers, my King." she spoke with the most sincere empathy. She knew how it felt to be a spirit locked inside a millennium item for centuries because she had experienced it herself. The only difference was that she knew who she once had been. The King on the other hand dwelled inside the Millennium Puzzle without knowledge of whom he was or where he came from. A sad and depressing existence.
"But there is not much I can tell you. Please forgive me, my King." she said, truly sorry but only telling the half-truth. She did not know the crucial information to unlock his secret but she knew much more than just a little.
"No, no; don't apologize. I would be more than thankful if you told me what you know, Isis. There is not a thing I know about myself despite the fact that my origin may lay in ancient Egypt. Therefore any hint or clue would be more than enough." he spoke in an understanding and grateful tone.
She felt ashamed of herself for lying to the one she loved. But what else was she supposed to do? She feared she would vanish entirely if she lost him again.
"Allow me to explain, my King." she said. "As you might have already guessed by looking at the stone tablet, you used to be a Pharaoh ruling over Upper and Lower Egypt 3000 years ago." She pointed at the large stone with an elegant movement of her dainty hand.
"So the image carved into that stone is … this is really me?" the Pharaoh asked absentmindedly, just to convince him of this unbelievable truth.
"Yes, my king." Isis confirmed. "And you might have also guessed who the second person depicted on the tablet might be."
"So it is really Kaiba?!" the brunette girl exclaimed.
"More or less." the Egyptian woman said plainly. "Kaiba is this man's reincarnation. He used to be a sorcerer and the Pharaoh's most trusted advisor." Her crimson eyes traveled from the girl back to the overwhelmed Pharaoh. "But his greatest rival, too." she added.
The sorcerer, Seth; she used to control him, used him for her own twisted and evil purpose. He had never been a traitor to the king. It was her who made him become one.
But she would never confess it or rather she could not because the King would never be able to love her if he knew all the despicable things she had done.
Confusion was visible in the Pharaoh's burgundy-colored eyes. He longed to know more, needed to hear more from her. It pained her seeing her beloved like this but she could not reveal much more than this to him, yet; at least not in this place and not in this annoying girl's presence.
"My King, are you alright?" she said, worry clearly audible in her voice as she approached the Pharaoh in a slow but graceful movement. His gaze was fixed on the woman's slender shape and he tensed up a bit when she stopped right in front of him.
Crimson eyes glistened with the sheen of fresh tears as she looked into the wine-colored eyes of her King. His host's body was much smaller than his own body used to be. Even Isis was taller than the King. He could have hardly been taller than 5"3 whereas Isis's body height was 5"5 adding up to 5"9 plus her high heeled shoes. She had to literally look down on the Pharaoh before her, which felt a bit unusual but she ignored it. Her mind was way too clouded with passion and yearning that such an irrelevant fact could bother her.
"Oh my, king, my beautiful king …" she whispered softly as her hands reached up to gently cup his face.
A small gasp escaped his mouth as he felt the touch of nimble fingers on his cheeks. He did not flinch but he seemed to tense up even more at the contact of a stranger's skin.
"I am so sorry, so sorry …" the spirit of the millennium necklace breathed as a single tear left her eye, leaving behind a black trail on her bronzed cheek.
Wide, trembling burgundy eyes took in the fine features of her face, trying to focus onto something there. They wandered from the perfectly maroon painted lips up to a small, straight nose and from there even higher up to a pair of kohl rimmed eyes graced with long lashes, heavy with mascara.
'She is indeed very pretty', the bewildered king thought but retracted the thought immediately. No, pretty was not the right word to describe her. Anzu was pretty. But Isis looked too solemn to be called a pretty woman. She was beautiful and graceful, yes but there was something sinister and ancient in the depths of her crimson eyes that – despite the fact that she was looking pained – made her nearness feel not only overwhelming but dangerous. But said feeling vanished when another black line formed on her cheek.
"… Isis, are you okay?" The Pharaoh said suddenly, his brows furrowed in concern. "There is nothing you have to be sorry for."
Her eyes widened and she withdrew her hands from his face; the tone of his voice hauling her out of her trance-like state.
'What am I thinking?'
"Forgive me, my King." she said and backed away. "I shouldn't have done that." Isis bowed rather deeply to the Pharaoh, demonstrating her inferiority and devotion to her king.
"It's fine, really. There is really nothing to forgive. If somebody has to apologize, it is me. After all I made you – you were crying be – ." he stopped speaking when he recognized the emotion on her face. It was shame. "Let us just forget about it, Isis." The King's voice sounded warm and gentle when he spoke her reincarnation's name. And even though it lit her up inside, she longed to hear him say her real, original name because the last time he did, the contempt in his voice was unbearable listening to.
"Thank you, my King."
A small smile graced the Pharaoh's lips. "Can I ask you something?" he questioned, still smiling but rather sadly, now.
"Anything, my king!" Isis exclaimed.
"Do you know my name?"
She gasped. He had even sealed the memory of his own name away, how could she have forgotten? After all it was the tale of the Nameless Pharaoh who died a young adult, which was written in the ancient texts.
Isis cleared her throat, covering up her initial shock. She had to tell him; he deserved it. Knowing his name would at least give him some sense of identity.
"In fact, yes. I do know your name, my king." she admitted. "You were given the name … Atem." The way his name rolled off her tongue made it sound like it was the most sacred and divine thing on earth.
"Atem…" the Pharaoh repeated softly to himself. And then he smiled. This time it was a genuine smile that expressed contentment and gratefulness.
The King took a step forwards her. "Thank you, Isis." he said as he reached for her hand, gently planting a kiss on its back.
Warmth spread throughout her body as his pale lips touched her tanned skin ever so lightly. The passion she held for him was still as strong as 3000 years ago. And she would make sure Atem was going to return those feelings like he once had.
Consider my OC spirit some kind of Yami Isis/Ishizu. :'D At least that is what I somehow intended for her to be. I'm not really sure if one could call this "side pairing" Atem/YamiXIsis/Ishizu but there are going to be a lot of side pairings anyway. Thanks to everyone who is reading this story. :)