Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.
This is unbeta-ed, as you can see by the abundance of commas and semi-colons. I like commas and semi-colons. Lots.
You probably already know this, but a brief bit of Egyptian religious history: the god Set killed his brother, Osiris, in order to take over the throne of Egypt. Then Horus, Osiris' son, killed Set and took his rightful place as ruler. That's the story behind their babbling later down.
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I will tell you a story.
The demon's hair was white. The angel's hair was black.
No. Wait. The first is a demon, certainly, but the second is no angel. Hm...no savior, either. He did indeed save people, but he had selfish motivations.
Perhaps that is the root of the trouble. No deity's term works for this case: these are men. They should be called so.
The evil man's hair was white. The good man's hair was black.
But. Again, this does not work. Self-sacrifice does not a good man make. Selfish determination does not an evil man make. They are still not defined.
I would use their names, but they no longer have them. A nuisance, that. Perhaps their titles?
The thief's hair was white. The pharaoh's hair was black.
There, that will do.
~~~~~
The thief's hair was white. The pharaoh's hair was black. The irony was amusing perhaps, to a detached spectator, but those directly involved did not share the sentiment.
But it mattered no more; the thief's hair was no longer white, but brown. The sticky, matted brown of dried blood which had nearly covered the whole of his face. His eyes burned as he stared through the tangled mess at the pharaoh.
The pharaoh was little better. He was bleeding profusely and panting from sheer exertion; blood and sweat mingled as they ran down his arms and dripped off his fingertips onto the cold stone floor of the arena.
They glared at each other as they stood, neither refusing to fall--one out of pride, one out of determination. The Shadow Realm swirled about their feet, drawn to the essence of human life scattered upon the floor.
The spell to seal the Realm required blood, and life. Two had died already for the cause, one willingly, one not. Now the pharaoh had decided that the thief would be the last sacrifice for the safety of Egypt. The thief had no desire for that honor. He fought.
The duel had been so taxing that the injuries manifested themselves physically. As yet more blood fell and spread across the ground, the Shadow Realm stopped swirling and hardened around them, forming an unbreakable barrier, trapping them within its sphere. It would not open until the last of the spell had been completed, and then only for the briefest of moments, to allow the caster an escape.
Shadows and lightening drew close to the two men, so near that it was only through fortune they were neither smothered nor burnt. Fortune, and destiny.
Drawing breath into his aching lungs, the pharaoh began to chant again and threw up a shield to defend himself against the thief's coming attack. His words slowed as the thief instead drew himself up, then laughed.
The thief lifted his Ring and began to speak to it, the words torn from his ragged throat but proud nonetheless. The pharaoh's chant, which had faltered at the first movement, now ended all together as he realized what the other was doing. "Spawn of Set!" he cursed, then began his spell anew, the words spilling from his lips in an attempt to finish ahead of time.
The thief ended a scant moment before, and the Ring began to glow. With a smirk, the man met the enraged pharaoh's eyes. "Spawn of Set? History has been re-written, then. You have failed, Horus-king!" he shouted as the light enveloped him. A moment later, the empty body collapsed upon the shadowed floor of the arena. The Ring clattered as it hit the stone, while the glow dispersed and left it only its plain golden gleam.
The pharaoh cursed bitterly, for as long as he was able to spare the breath, and watched the shifting Realm around him. The spell had been said, the blood offered, the body killed. It should be completed.
But it was not.
The words were not spoken, aloud or in the pharaoh's mind; he simply knew them. What had gone wrong?
It is not enough. The blood was given, but not the life. It is not complete.
The thief had locked himself in the Ring. His ka had not been given over to the Realm, only the hollow body and the blood inside.
More must be given. It is still unfinished.
Another sacrifice would have to be made. The pharaoh cursed the fellah, that spawn of Set, and asked Ma'at to find him the worst of the unworthy. Now another would have to die for the protection of Egypt.
But there was no way to leave and gather another offering.
The pharaoh straightened, staring at the body on the other side of the arena which flickered as the Realm began to consume it. The thief had not only broken the spell, he had trapped him within this place. How had he dared...?
Yet the matter lay at hand. Tendrils of shadow curled about his ankles as he glared at the corpse in the distance, watching as it faded completely. All that remained was the Ring.
If there were time, he could study it, learn the secret that the thief had used and then break it open, thus forcing the man to suffer the destiny that had been chosen for him.
But there was no time now. The shadows clung to him, covering his feet and creeping along his legs. He was weary from the fight, the spell, the realization of his failure; and the Realm sensed this, and came for him. The pharaoh could not hold it back forever. He cursed the knowledge of his own mortality that the thief had thrust upon him.
It is still unfinished.
The pharaoh knew this. Without the completion of the spell, the Shadow Realm would still be open and its monsters free to ravage the land. His reign would forever be associated with the destruction of Egypt. He would not allow that.
But there was no one left to offer here, and he could not leave to collect another.
The blood, which had slowed as it trailed along his arms, collected in his clenched fists and fell to the ground. Only a few drops, but the sound magnified in the prison of the Realm. The shadows slid away from his legs and converged upon the stones again, seeking the fresh blood promised.
It is still unfinished.
...No. Such a price was too high. The pharaoh had never intended this.
And yet, there was nothing else. He could not leave here, he was too weakened, and pride refused for him to allow the monsters to continue the destruction of his kingdom. More had to be offered to seal the Shadow Realm, be it life or blood, and all that could be found of either rested in him.
Angered, the pharaoh began to recall the words the thief had used to kill himself, weighing each and making sure he had remembered them correctly. As the shadows began to curl about him once more, the pharaoh lifted his Puzzle and whispered the curse into the darkness.
The glowing had not come from the Ring, as he had originally thought, but from himself. The curse to bind himself within his Puzzle drew its strength from him directly, and he was nearly too weak to sustain it.
The blood completes the requirement. No life needs be taken from this one.
The pharaoh's body sunk to the floor of the arena, landing with a cracking noise upon the Puzzle, and the shadows blanketed it. The ka within broke apart as Puzzle shattered, and a lifetime of memories were scattered.
The last trace of the glow faded, leaving only the pieces of the Puzzle to reflect the lightening. Moments later, the Shadow Realm withdrew from the earth, and Egypt stood peaceful for five thousand years.
~~~~~
And this is the end of my story. Only it isn't, because stories never truly end. This one hasn't.
For beginnings lead to endings, which lead to beginnings, which lead to endings which lead to beginnings which lead to endings and to beginnings again....
