Title: Gambling With Destiny
Author: Phoebe Delos
Series: Yu-Gi-Oh! DM
Story Summary: A twist of fate during the Ceremonial Duel leaves everyone saying goodbye to the Yuugi they didn't expect to lose. The pharaoh, lost and alone, places his trust in a mysterious stranger in hopes of winning his partner back from an old enemy.
Story Rating: Teen for Language, Violence, Dark Tones, Incestuous Themes.
Spoilers: The end of the series, and anything prior. That includes a certain spirit's real name. Expect some mixing of anime and manga facts.
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! isn't mine.
Notes: Ahaha, I hope these flashbacks are enjoyable because they are taking on a life of their own! /when 5 chapters in notes are slowly exploding into 15+


Thirty-Eighth Year in the Reign of Akhenamkhanen

"If one tries to navigate unknown waters,
one runs the risk of shipwreck."
~ Proverb etched on the walls of Karnak Temple

:: Chapter Twenty-Nine ::

"Shada! Isis! Set!" Siamun stepped to the edge of the dais, naming the three who knelt just below, at the bottom of the steps that led to the throne- And the king seated upon it. "You have each been challenged by an Item, and each proven yourself worthy of wielding it- But you must also prove yourself worthy of the Great Pharaoh himself! Does your devotion to Kemet match the strength of your souls?! Will you yield yourself to a test of your loyalty?!"

"We so yield, Priest Siamun!" Set cried before the vizier even finished, the woman and man kneeling beside him echoing the claim with matching sincerity.

They will serve well, Atem predicted from his silent position upon the dais, right beside the veteran priests and his father. He had no chair, for the pharaoh was the only one who could sit in the throne room. But the prince stood at Akhenamkhanen's right hand in the highest place of honor, where Akhenaden or Siamun so often stood before Atem came of age and still did when the heir left Waset without the king- Something he did with ever more regularity. Just three days ago the prince had been in Swenett, assessing recent shifts in administration over the local stone quarries. He had not finished the task, though, having dashed back to the palace the instant he heard his father had nearly died in an assassination attempt! Thankfully, the pharaoh escaped unharmed… But two of his six priests had not been so fortunate.

Atem had arrived just in time to witness the inauguration ceremony of their replacements.

"Then brace yourselves- I shall look into your hearts with the power of the Millennium Key!" Siamun warned, holding up the Item as Akhenaden stepped up beside him.

"And I shall search your minds with the aid of the Millennium Eye." The old priest was quieter than the vizier, but he gave the three candidates no true warning. In a blink his golden Eye shone and Atem could feel the buzz of black magic in the air, drying on his tongue with a bitter aftertaste. But it was nothing but feedback. It was the three below who endured the invasion of their very beings- A violation they allowed without protest, keeping their heads bowed as Akhenaden and Siamun judged them each in turn.

There was little to see as they awaited the verdict. The magic of the Items showed nothing to outside onlookers, and the prince's attention slowly shifted towards the two priests not involved in the proceedings. Kalim, the current holder of the Scales, stood silent and still on his father's left, like a living bulwark …and Mahaad…

He stood just at Atem's elbow, but slightly behind- Towering over the prince yet somehow still hanging back in his shadow. Taking advantage of the ceremony's distraction, the prince craned his head about to look at the Ring's wielder. No one was looking- Not even Mahaad. He was staring at the three kneeling figures with a heavy, serious expression, as if something about them troubled him. Atem might have asked - later, of course - but he didn't imagine Mahaad would be open to sharing…

In many ways the Ring Priest was the prince's shadow, or at least had been once. For before Mahaad was ever a priest, he was Atem's own companion- Picked out five years ago from among the best of the school of Karnak Temple. Akhenamkhanen had long begun to fear that the prince's education was suffering, learning ever on the road from men who could not give his lessons their full attention. And so the pharaoh had called on Mahaad- A peer who could travel with the prince, share his lessons, and guide his progress. The two had spent many a day, week, and month sliding along the great river, learning together and from one another the history of the nation, mathematics, writing, spirit calling, anything and everything. But Atem's preferred memories were of simpler moments- Of playing a game of Senet or Mehen as the dying sunlight bounced off the river waters.

The prince would always be grateful to Mahaad for what he provided him- The experience, the wisdom, the devotion… But most importantly, the friendship. A blessing he had never truly known before the young magician.

Atem still sought his friend's company, when circumstances allowed, and Mahaad still displayed an instinctual impulse guard his prince- As seen by his current hovering. But the two had not been of one, open mind for some time. Even when they were together something weighed on the priest's heart, and he would not let Atem help him carry it. That burden stood like a wall between them, and try as he might to remove it, the prince was simply never around long enough to uncover the cause. He was so often away, while the Royal Six remained closed to the pharaoh.

And the pharaoh had become quite, rooted in Waset…

The test was soon over, approval granted, and Akhenaden and Siamun each stepped back, bowing towards the pharaoh as he spoke.

"Rise." Akhenamkhanen's order was short, breathless, but kind as he gestured for two servants to step forward. They bowed before the rising trio, holding up two pristine, white pillows with golden Items upon them- The Millennium Rod, and the Millennium Tauk.

"It is our great sadness that Pentu and Neferu fell protecting our person. They were trusted friends and loyal servants to the kingdom, and protected our people admirably long before they became our royal priests… But we trust that you - Set, Isis - will stand as worthy successors to their legacies."

"We will do all that we can to serve you and Kemet well, O Great Pharaoh," swore Set as he took up the Rod, thumping the fist he held it with against his chest as he knelt once more. "And I pray we will be granted a chance to avenge their deaths, and the threat to your own sacred life. I was told the foolish assassins were Syrians-"

"And they were killed in the assault as well, Priest Set," the king interrupted with a rise of his hand, and when Atem turned a subtle on his father he read weary resignation in his gaze. This was not the first time he had heard such a suggestion. "And if the rebels were Syrians angered by the taxes levied against them by our kingdom, then we will accomplish little by seeking more blood. No attack or campaign will wipe away their resentment- Let their failure stand as their discouragement."

Set said nothing in answer beyond a simple "Yes, pharaoh," but the prince swore he saw displeasure in his thick blue eyes when they shot up and their gazes met, just for a moment. There was no time for the looks to linger, though. It would not due for the priest to stare at a royal like that, and Set had to step back with Isis when she finished fastening the Tauk about her neck, both making room for the third, and final candidate to approach.

"Shada-" It was Siamun who spoke, descending from the dais as he removed the Millennium Key from his neck and presented it to the young man, still on bent knee. "I resign my position as priest with no small reluctance, but knowing you will stand in my place does much to placate my fears."

"You do me too much honor." Shada rose, taking the Item with reverent fingers and a bow of his head. "-but I shall do all I can to prove myself worthy of your trust."

It was a sad sight from where Atem stood. Oh yes, Shada would likely prove a good replacement, but it was still bittersweet to see Siamun handing over his post. He wasn't fully retiring- The elderly man would remain in his position as vizier, likely until the end of his days as Akhenamkhanen would never set aside his uncle. But Atem saw the truth behind this resignation. He remembered his father's lamentations about sending him alone to Men-Nefer, or Abdju, or any of the other places the prince went to represent the pharaoh. However successful Atem's visits may be, he did not have the benefit of a full council as Akhenamkhanen did when he traveled. But, now that Siamun was not tied to the king and Waset as one of the six priests, he was free to travel wherever Akhenamkhanen wished.

The prince would stake his life on it; Siamun was abandoning the Millennium Key so he could follow Atem.

The three new priests and priestess turned to face the court, their Items openly displayed, and the gathered crowd of dignitaries and titled courtiers and favored servants cried their approval. All were relieved to see balance resoured to the sacred priesthood, king's safety secured by their presence. The ceremony complete, there was nothing left to be done save for Akhenamkhanen to proclaim there would be a feast that evening in the three's honor, and announce the close of open court for the day. All bowed as the king stood - Atem included - but the prince wasn't down on one knee longer than a breath before his father's worn, bejeweled hand waved before his face, and Atem rose to follow him out of the throne room, Siamun and the six priests trailing behind them.

"Was your trip home uneventful, my son?" the king asked without preamble, moving smoothly and leisurely down a pillared hall- So slow that the much smaller prince had no trouble meeting his pace. "To reach us in so short a time… You must have ridden by horse the last stretch of the way, without any rest."

"I did," Atem admitted, instantly adding "But it was worth it to reach Waset and find you well."

His father did not reply, but his weighted features lightened softly, a smile twitching at his lips before he turned his head to speak to the priest walking just behind the prince. "Mahaad- I trust it need not be said, but keep your focus on our son so long as he is in Waset. There may yet be a second attempt by these assassins- I would have at least one priest close to his person for the time being."

"As you wish, O Pharaoh." Mahaad bent his head, as sober as he would be accepting any sacred project, be it leading a divine ceremony or guarding a royal tomb. When his charge glanced back at him, though, the magician's violet eyes warmed with clear satisfaction for his charge- A look Atem mirrored with a brief smile before his father drew his attention once more.

"Are you too worn after your travels to lead the celebration feast in our stead?"

"No, I am looking forward to it." The prince's answer was instant and firm, but he was careful to keep his gaze turned forward, lest he break the spell of casual disregard about the request. They both knew… Oh yes, they were both fully aware that Atem was lying. He hated to mingle with the court as a whole. The press for his attention from all directions, the false airs and deceits behind half of what was said among the drinking and eating and laughing and dancing, the dozens if not hundreds of eyes trained on him at all times- He dreaded it, and all who knew him knew it.

But he would pretend, for his father. Even if Akhenamkhanen knew… Even if they both refused to acknowledge why the king asked, and his son agreed.

His father should not endure the strain- It was growing far too much for him.

Though the king walked unassisted, held his head high, Atem could see the truth in every glance- In every step and breath. His father was fading. Not quickly, not all at once, but without a doubt. The prince had been seeing the signs for over a year. Every time he saw his father his face was a little more worn, his movements a touch heavier, his eyes a shade darker.

Some unknown burden- Something was crushing him, slowly.

He had to be ill. Some wasting disease perhaps, but he would not admit it. He simply took on less, let Atem or Siamun or the priests handle a new responsibility here, and make a trip for him there- Piecing away the authority of his crown bit by bit, never acknowledging a thing.

And Atem- Gods preserve him, he went along with it. What else could he do? The king ignored his questions and concern, lying and yet not about wishing to empower his heir as he grew older. And however he wished to protest, the prince could not outright fight or confront the pharaoh. His respect for him ran too deep.

So… He endured.

Just like his father.

"Do not linger at the feast longer than need be, or drink too much wine," Akhenamkhanen warned, prompting a mild glance from his son that soon turned to outright confusion as the king went on. "You will need your rest. I expect you in the throne room after the dawn rituals."

"-you are calling court in the morning?" The king never held court until after midday, and if he wished to share something with Atem alone he was never so formal about it.

"Yes, we are to have a reunion-" The pharaoh stalled a step, waving behind him for the rest to hold back, at least until there was enough distance between them and the royals for father and son to speak privately. Only then did he speak again, a strange emotion passing over his face - austere, and yet pleased. "I have ordered that your brother be brought to the palace on the morrow."

Atem stumbled to a halt, paralyzed by shock as he stared at his father, who turned to meet his stunned gazed with as much expectation as confusion. "…Sawheru," the prince breathed, unsure himself if he spoke the name as a question.

"Yes." Akhenamkhanen turned and continued on, forcing Atem to recover and catch up if he wished to hear any further. "He has come of age, and I have no fear of any trouble coming from his visit- Siamun has long taught him how to mind his heart and thoughts, and there is no reason he should not rejoin our court."

Atem would not be so bold as to correct his father, but if he could, he would remind the pharaoh that he himself had decided Sawheru should not be there- That he created the reason for his son's prolonged absence!

"I will expect you there for the arrival." The king stalled at the fork in the hallway where they would part for their respective chambers, turning to look critically down at his son, watching for any sign of protest.

Atem bowed with a short "As you wish, Father."

What else could he say?


"If you keep frowning like that every noble in Waset will know you're upset." Melinia underlined her words with a swat against Atem's arm, making him spill half of his wine on the floor. Naturally, this made the prince frown harder- Especially when a servant began to clear the mess, so quick to appear one might suspect she had popped out of the scene painted on the wall just at the prince's back. Impressive, but the girl's movements only drew more glances from the surrounding crowd!

Atem ignored them, keeping a determined stare on the performance taking place at the center of the room. "-no one would trust it if I did smile."

"True, your distaste for festivities is well known." Melinia tossed a golden curl over her shoulder, surveying the great room. Many of the courtiers dodged her eye as she looked their way, displaying sudden interest in their food or company or the dance show. That was, without a doubt, why Atem was being left be in the middle of the crowd. He was seated beside his sister, and thus everyone hesitated on what to do- Approach the august prince, or avoid the infamous lady? And while they deliberated the two royals enjoyed their privacy, Melinia's attention eventually landing on the same pair of sinewy, agile acrobats Atem watched, her gaze lingering with far more interest than his as she sipped her drink and quietly spoke. "-but everyone knows what is happening tomorrow. If you are not careful they will be whispering about your displeasure by sundown. And that - for all you know - might reach Sawheru's own ears."

Atem glowered at the very idea. Who even said he was upset about the second prince's return? He was confused, that was all! Confused and, concerned… But thinking about that was what left him frowning in the first place…

The servant girl moved to take the cup from the prince's hand, clearly looking to refill it. Atem granted her meek eyes and waiting hands and naked, beaded skin a quick, cursory glance before waving her back with firm, if benign "I am well, you may go."

The girl bowed wordlessly before disappearing as quickly as she had appeared. Atem waited until she was gone before shifting his gaze back to his sister, his voice dropping to a stiff murmur. "Melinia… You must know of him."

"What?" His sister lowered her drink, eyeing him quizzically until his stare prompted her to mask her expression and look off in a random direction. "What do you mean?"

"Sawheru." Atem's fingers clenched convulsively on his cup as he uttered the name. He could swear he felt eyes burning on him as he dared mention the boy, but refused to let himself quail. Refused to so much as twitch his would-be focus off of the dance. "You go to the temple regularly… You must see him." For Melinia was God's Wife of Amun, the highest ranking priestess of the god's sect.

The pharaoh had granted her the exclusive royal title two years ago, time having made it clear that he could arrange no appropriate marriage for her - a plight the lady put down to her manner, though all knew it was her foreign look and blood the nobility avoided. So Akhenamkhanen offered her office and priestly wealth in place of a husband. Melinia spent much of her time on the estate the position came with - coming only erratically to court - but to keep the position she had to perform rituals on special occasions or festival days. And to do that, she needed to go to the Temple of Amun at Karnak.

Karnak. Where Sawheru lived.

Where he had been sent eight years ago-

No one had called it exile. For all formal purposes, the move was a boon for the young boy. His involvement in the attack of the dark dragon had been successfully hushed, and his departure from the palace three days after was a natural, if rushed rite of passage. The second prince had always been fated for some great office, be it one of the six priests at the pharaoh's side, or a trusted, influential vizier, or a high priest of a great temple- But whatever it would be, it would be something. How could the pharaoh's only spare son be left powerless?

The king had simply decided which position it would be.

The current High Priest of Amun was childless with no relations to inherit his powerful station, and Akhenamkhanen had grabbed the chance to tie the Great Temple of Karnak to the crown itself. The king relinquished his own son to the Cult of Amun, to meld into their future leader as they saw fit. And who could say Sawheru was too young to go, when so many scribes and priests were given to the temple at a far more tender age? The priesthood was a lifelong career, and his education needed to begin as soon as possible.

Atem knew the truth, though. He had seen- No, in part caused the incident at the Shrine of Wedju, and where many had whispered their suspicions as the small prince was packed off and escorted the short distance to Karnak, Atem had stood on a high balcony and watched Sawheru's procession fade away with full awareness and a heavy heart.

He hadn't even said goodbye…

But that was his own fault, as much as his failure to seek out his brother since. Oh, there would be protests or evasions if he formally requested a visit to the temple, and his father had never given him permission to go, and yes- Even the heir was not openly welcome in that sacred place. Only a priest, priestess, or the Pharaoh could enter the sanctum- And only then for the sake of festival or ritual.

But Atem could have easily pressed his way in- Could have tried. No… It was shame that kept him away all those years, not precedent.

"Yes, I see him-" Melinia acknowledged, but a glower played at her painted lips as she explained, swirling her wine with sharp, irritated flicks of the wrist. "But I don't spend time with him. Karnak is a world unto itself, my 'divine brother'. There are always far too many people around- Guards, priests, workers, spies no doubt. I can never get a private word with the boy. And I can't visit Sawheru in his own rooms when I am there formally. I go through the Temple of Amun, while he is housed near the Temple of Mut- Where the school is. He's rarely anywhere near the Precinct of Amun, much less when I am about." She gave a hard sniff and waved over another servant, handing her her glass with a disgusted dismissal of the thing- Masking her frustration in a voiced distaste for the vintage. As the girl ran off to find Melinia something 'better suited' the lady added "It will be good to have him back- Here with us…" on a quiet murmur.

Atem did not answer, nursing his disappointment in silence. It felt silly to ask then, when she was unlikely to have an answer, but still the prince found himself stumbling through the words. "When you do see him… Does he seem, happy?" He could feel her eyes turn on him, but he refused to look, embarrassment spicing his desperation for an answer.

"…yes, I think so…" Atem swerved his gaze at the words - the strange mix of hesitation and secure opinion he heard there - and took in his elder sister's expression. She looked at him still, but did not seem to see him, focused on some unseen image… Until she blinked with a dismissive, even defensive wave. "Far better than when I saw him here last, at least."

He- didn't react, really. He was sure he did not actually flinch or anything. But Atem had not pinned his eyes back on the dancers more than two seconds before Melinia smacked his arm again with a scoffing snort. "Oh, don't start brooding again. He is fine- And he would have wound up in Karnak at some point. Punishing yourself isn't going to help him now-"

Melinia's diatribe, earned as it might have been, was interrupted by the quiet call of "My lady" at her elbow. A glower pulled at his sister's lips, only to ebb when she turned and found it was her own handmaiden - a young lady of long, dark hair named Shukura - seeking her attention. The girl bent to whisper something in Melinia's ear, looking pointedly off in the direction of a distant circle of nobles. Atem didn't see anything of note about them, beyond the way one man in particular kept swerving his gaze their way, but his sister gave a quiet, understanding "Ah" before rising. "Lord Paser-" she said, turning to Atem with sparkling eyes. "He owns a good deal of farmland near Abdju."

Ah indeed. Atem gave a silent snort, but he couldn't help but smirk. "And what do you plan to do when you win it from him? Take up sheep farming?" Melinia let off a laugh, a nearby lady dropping her cup at the sudden noise. Atem merely watched, lips silently curled up as he marveled at how they could play so lightly on the subject. Not long ago, Melinia's gambling had been a source of tension between the siblings. Not that the prince disapproved of a game of dice- He played nearly as much as she did. And if his sister wished to risk heavy portions of her estate in the process, that was her choice. But they rarely played together, and it was complete happenstance that he saw a certain game last year. Melinia versus a visiting ambassador, a guest of the pharaoh.

She had been playing with loaded dice.

Naturally, when he realized this, the prince insisted on playing in the ambassador's stead, taunted his sister into betting more than half of her wealth, won despite the cheating- And then privately told her that if she did not wish him to reveal her secret, she would never do such a thing again.

Melinia had, of course, been incensed - especially when Atem didn't even keep his won fortune but gave it to the ambassador as a sign of good will between countries - but, that storm had long passed. In recent months, she seemed to have forgotten her resentment- A shift the prince had put down to Melinia's regained wealth as God's Wife of Amun, until she admitted over a particularly rowdy feast that she found the games so much more fun since she truly ran the risk of loss- The sheer excitement of it!

And since Melinia was never too quick to risk that much in the games anymore, Atem watched her approach her newest target with little concern. In fact, he was a little tempted to follow- He trusted his sister to keep her word, but watching a round of dice sounded infinitely preferable to lingering at the feast, now that he had gone through the motions of welcoming everyone and greeting his father's favorites and closest allies.

But as a figure crossed his line of sight, the prince realized he had missed one very critical guest of honor.

Set.

Apparently he was not the only one to notice, either. The priest's blue eyes skimmed Atem's reds, clearly assessing whether he should approach or not. When the royal gave no sign of dismissal, the priest crossed the rest of the room to bow before his seat. "My prince."

"Priest Set-" Atem gestured with his free hand for the man to rise- And then moved to his own feet. He would soon crack his neck staring up at the man from his chair. "Congratulations on your rise to priesthood."

"Thank you, your highness." Set bowed his head the slightest bit, but with the formal bow done, he showed little but the most passing of respects. The prince did not mind- The ones required for the pharaoh's son were few, and he was not one to stand on station. Better to strive for some measure of familiarity with the man. Set would be a constant hovering presence in his life now, as so many others were.

"-I heard it was Akhenaden who suggested you should join the royal priesthood," Atem managed after a rough, long moment of hunting for a proper comment, settling into his found remark with almost relieved ease. "How do you know him?"

"I do not, your highness," the newly minted priest answered, letting the silence hang just long enough for Atem to openly narrow his eyes in question before explaining himself. "Not personally- Priest Akhenaden has always watched the disciples of Karnak for potential promise. I simply caught his eye."

-were the gods taunting him? It was impossible to say, but the prince certainly wondered as much as his breath caught in his throat at the mention on the temple. "Karnak… You were a student there?"

"Yes-" Set's gaze shifted, just for a breath, but it was enough for Atem to notice the man's attention veering elsewhere, towards- Mahaad?

Indeed, when the prince turned his head in the same direction he saw that Set was looking at the Ring Priest, for Mahaad had settled himself in the shadow of a nearby pillar some time ago, watching over his royal charge but granting the space needed to greet his guests and speak to his sister in relative privacy. Mahaad must have noticed their glances - he had been watching Atem the whole time, a silent, familiar eye upon his back - but his thoughts remained masked beneath a sedate, attentive expression, and the prince had no time to peer beneath it before Set spoke again, as though he had never looked away. "Though I have not sat in a classroom for many years- I instructed in scriptures and arithmetic for a time, but my great charge has long been the security of the temple itself- From within during my monthly shifts, and without when I was not on formal duty."

"A great responsibility," the prince murmured, meeting the priest's sapphire stare look for unbending look. He could easily believe the claim, too, after that afternoon. Set must have spent years punishing criminals - any who dared disrespect the temple and its laws. Wouldn't such a man be eager to proclaim war on a country that dared raise a hand against his king?

But… It was curious that Set ever had such authority. He could not be much older than Atem himself, and the priest had no known family connections to rush his promotion to power. Was he simply that capable, or had he earned support from some unknown, influential corner? The prince might well have probed the matter… Had he not his own questions to ask- Ones that made him stare coolly down into his wine rather than let Set read his emotions as he said, "I will keep your experience in mind… But I have a question for you, priest. While in Karnak- Did you know my brother?"

Atem could sense the weight in Set's silence even before it coaxed his gaze back to the man, the disgruntled reluctance on his face and in his short "Yes, my prince," more telling than any open words.

Still, Atem's expression hardened, his warm reds narrowing critically on Set's flat countenance before he gave a sharp, prompting gesture. "Pray, tell me- What do you make of him? I would have the truth."

It was long in coming, though, the silence dragging on as Set searched the prince's face, judging what he should say- Not out of tact or compassion, clearly, but out of concern of how the young royal may react. Atem stared back, as unbending as he, until the priest threw caution to the wind and spoke- Unhesitating. Blunt. Harsh. "I do not know Prince Sawheru well, but I judge him to be intelligent- A great blessing that he lets go to waste."

A shift of movement out of the corner of his eye warned the prince that Mahaad was moving- Looking to intervene. Atem halted him with a hand without turning to look, schooling his own expression into stony stillness. Whatever the impertinence, however it rankled, he had asked for the truth. And, reluctant as he may be to accept it, how could he judge if it were deserved?

"-he would skip or sleep through one out of every three lessons we shared," the priest continued after the first hiccup of uncertainty, quietly rolling on as though he were not speaking to the boy's own royal brother. "-or that I taught. His mind was rarely in the classroom, and if he was not there, he had likely slipped out of the temple entirely," Set guessed dryly, completely unaware of the alarm he set off in Atem's heart. "And I doubt he has changed since. A moon ago, on the day before I left the temple, I spotted him with a small crowd - most of them lowly temple staff. They were playing some game, racing along the edge of the sacred lake at the Temple of Mut, the prince carried upon the shoulders of a guard, hollering loud enough to draw my notice from across the courtyard."

Atem- He did not speak, but his stony expression cracked beneath the image Set painted. His concern for his brother wandering unguarded outside the security of Karnak was nothing next to that idea- The image of Sawheru, playing in the daylight with… Friends?

The small boy he remembered cried at the very idea of friends…

And if he had them, then Melinia must be right. He was happy there… And Father was planning to take him away from that… Drag him from the temple, for what?

For this?

Atem looked about the loud, crowded hall with a ponderous eye as Set said "To be clear, the prince may have come of age this year, but he acts more like a child than a man" with a note of finality, and concern. For all knew that Sawheru was to return the next morning- And by the priest's clear opinion, he was not ready for whatever responsibility the pharaoh clearly meant to give him.

But if he expected anger on his brother's behalf, or open agreement, the man was to be disappointed. Atem barely acknowledged the end of his denunciation, his eyes slow to unglaze, blink, and focus on the priest who had begun to frown at his silence. Before he could decide to actually question him, the prince gave a quick, distracted nod and wave of the hand. "…thank you, Priest Set. Do not let me keep you- This banquet is yours."

"-as you say." The priest bowed, never taking his sharp, studying eyes off of the prince. He clearly wanted to ask something, but for all his candor, even Set would not ignore a direct order. He stepped away after no more than a pause, approaching a distant circle made up of his fellow newly appointed priests and a few nobles.

Atem let his own gaze slide back to the dance, watching as the men moved in sync with a pair of ladies who joined the fray for a routine of complex acrobatic moves, timed to music wafting from nearby harps and flutes. He watched, but he did not truly see, the light catching on their exposed skin making him blink- The bodies little more than a blur of movement as he watched… And suddenly moved, too restless to remain still.

As a round of applause rose for the latest flip or twirl, the prince slid out a nearby doorway and onto the outer balcony that ran along the palace's northern wall. There were courtiers there, too, but they milled about in little groups and pairs, seeking a quiet word, and the few who noticed him were discouraged from approaching with no more than a passing wave. He needed privacy. He needed to think- To… To look at the place. For there- Across the rooftops of the closest buildings, beyond the pylons and obelisks- There it was, a massive, rolling expanse of stone in the distance, just downriver from Waset, lit by a thousand little lights that blended together to blink in the starlight.

Karnak, little more than a stone's throw away.

If what Set was true… Would Sawheru thank them for removing him from the place? It was never his choice to go to the Karnak, but that did not mean he would chose to leave it now. And what did Father mean to do with him once he was back? Would the prince simply continue his rise to priesthood from within the palace? Had the pharaoh changed his mind entirely about the prince's future?

It was impossible to say, but Atem knew some things for sure. His father must think he was helping, and he would reveal whatever he had planned on the morrow, in front of everyone, and Sawheru… He would likely go along with it, whatever he wished. Who could deny the divinity of the pharaoh, the will of a father, and the pressure of the court?

He had been too long away. How could Sawheru possibly know that it was safe to say no?

"…my prince?" Atem didn't turn, feeling no shock as Mahaad materialized behind him, uncertainty and concern coating his words. "Will you return to the feast?"

"-no." Atem raised his glass and downed what little wine remained in one long gulp, swallowing it down with a deep, deciding breath. "I will go to my chambers and change. Do the same, Mahaad - no finery - and meet me in the stables." Setting the cup on the stone ledge, he turned, staring into the priest's baffled eyes with steady, frowning conviction.

He knew what he had to do.

"We are going to see my brother."


Ancient Egyptian Terms
Senet – Ancient board game, often compared to backgammon. Seemed to have religious significance.
Mehen – 'The game of the snake'. A board game carved in the shape of a snake, won by skill rather than luck.

Original Egyptian Incarnations
Sawheru – Yuugi
Melinia – Mai
Shukura – ?