Konnichiwa, minna-san. My first post is actually on schedule! However,
don't get used to it because I know that, no matter how much I promise
myself I will meet deadlines, they inevitably get pushed back by less
important things such as life and the process of living it.
Everyone, meet Nicole Silverwolf. (holds up sign saying "wave") She is
- author of many amazing fanfics (including May It Be; read this, people)
- fellow student struggling under the evils of post-secondary education
- my new pre-reader!
If this chapter is actually good, it is because she made many helpful suggestions. =) Xie xie.
I have taken artistic liberty in the fic. For example, as Nicole pointed out to me, I explain Yami's name as meaning 'little dark'. I know it doesn't translate like that, so don't spear me for it (runs away from Lord of the Flies). The meaning is only in a connotative sense.
Personal notes and little tidbits on foreign words and their meanings after the story. Don't want you to fall asleep before you actually get to chapter six!
Chapter Seven: Beginnings
The grand hall of the palace, flooded with the cool grey light of early morning. The hall was filled with people gathered in loose lines, waiting to have their cases heard by the Living Horus. They brought with them the smells and colours of ordinary life. Sand mixed with jet-black plaits, simple linen clothes were brown with many washings and faces were grey with dirt, but the hall itself remained immaculate. Though the crowd was large, they made little noise. Only a quiet murmur rippled through the hall. The only clear voice to be heard was the deep baritone words of the pharaoh.
The pharaoh was seated at the front of the hall, patiently listening to the problems of the people and proffering required judgement. As Ra climbed to its peak, the masses of people did not thin but continued to snake in disorganised lines through the hall.
The pharaoh rose from his golden throne. Immediately, the entire hall fell on to their knees. The Son of Horus and Amun-Ra surveyed them for a regal moment, before smiling kindly and bidding them to rise. They did so with bowed heads of respect as the divine king was escorted from the hall by a phalanx of guards, leaving a judge with clear grey eyes in his place.
Amenhotep dismissed his train with a regal sweep of his ceremonial ankh as they approached his quarters. Two took up position outside the door to his rooms. The pharaoh entered, making his way to a dressing table. Carefully, he removed the heavy double crown and golden ceremonial adornments and placed them beside the crook and ankh. He sighed, glad to be rid of the burdens. The air rippled beside him and a moment later, Azrak appeared.
"Ahalan, Amenhotep." The pharaoh greeted the Guardian with a brief smile.
"Ahalan, Azrak." His smile faded. "Have you punished the Magician yet?"
"The Council of Elders had a meeting to judge his actions. He has been punished but." The Sage frowned. It would be difficult for his partner to accept that what the Council had done was wrong.
"But what?"
"The Council judged him to be innocent of any wrong-doing, yet they condemned him to imprisonment."
"There must be some mistake in the judgement, but he deserves the imprisonment. He trespassed into my son's Soul Room," Amenhotep replied coldly.
"You do not understand. Sihrr has done nothing wrong." He explained what the Magician had testified. Amenhotep listened with crossed arms.
"There is no denying he was in Yu-gi-oh's Soul Room. But I believe he had a right to be there."
The pharaoh bristled. "Azrak, don't tell me you seriously believe he is my son's Guardian."
"It is the only explanation. He does not have the skill to force entry into a Soul Room. He saved your son. He never told Yu-gi-oh his name, yet your son knew it."
"I don't care about the details. Yami was hurt, he was in the Soul Room; all evidence points to his guilt."
"Do not let your emotions cloud your judgement, Amenhotep. Use the Eye of Horus; see the truth."
"Divine One?" The pharaoh and his Guardian turned to face the guard. "The young prince seeks your audience."
[We will continue this conversation later.] Azrak disappeared.
"Let him in." The guard bowed and returned with a grave little boy. Father and son waited in silence for the guard to leave. When the servant did so, the pharaoh relaxed and allowed himself to smile.
"SabaH el-kheir, little one," he said, scooping up his son. Yami grinned and hugged the pharaoh around the neck.
"Are you feeling better, Yami?" The boy nodded then frowned. Amenhotep noticed.
"What bothers you?" Yami hesitated, a look of childish uncertainty crossing his face.
"You can tell me anything," Amenhotep encouraged gently. Quickly, he checked on his wife through their telepathic link. He found her still sleeping and decided not to disturb her. No need to worry her when she was still so exhausted. He turned his attention back to his son.
"Ab, something happened to me last night, didn't it? I don't remember most of it but I remember something strange." His forehead scrunched up slightly. "Most of all, I remember blue eyes. No one I know has blue eyes, ab. Who was that?"
"I think you must have had a very strange dream yesterday, Yami."
"But it seemed so real."
"Sometimes, dreams can seem very real. But no matter how real they seem, they are not." The child contemplated for a moment.
"I woke up this morning and I felt something strange." Amenhotep's red eyes closely studied his son's face. "I wanted to remember a name. The eyes had a name, but I forgot. I kept trying to remember but I couldn't. And then, I felt something else. This," -he struggled for a word- "pulling inside." His childish crimson eyes sobered in a moment of maturity. "It felt safe and it felt right. But then, it stopped. I know it has something to do with the thing I can't remember but I need to find it. I need to remember." Yami took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly, trying not to feel upset. He felt the arms under him shift into a more comfortable position.
"Shh, little dark. It's alright," Amenhotep soothed. He continued murmuring comforting words. He could feel the tense anxiety of the child's emotions, as if they were a frayed rope stretched too tightly. Yet, he could also detect an underlying current of steel. Reaching out, he projected feelings of calm and reassurance. To his surprise, he felt his attempts rebuffed by a determination that caught him off-guard. Yami's untrained will was almost strong enough to reject his magic. Amenhotep let a bit more power flow into his magic to increase its influence. He was rewarded when the crimson eyes began to soften then close. Soon, Yami was asleep in his arms.
Amenhotep laid him carefully on a cushioned reclining couch. He couldn't help but feel impressed by his son's strength. Few had the ability to resist his magic. When old enough to train, Yami would be one of the most promising apprentices in the manipulation of Shadow Power. But not until then, he thought, gazing tenderly at the sleeping child. Yami moved in his sleep and cried softly.
"Sihrr. don't go."
The Egyptian froze. That name. There was no possible way that his son should have remembered anything of his encounter with the Realm. Yet, he had clearly spoken the Shadow being's name. It would be dangerous to let him recall any more. He made his decision. He placed a hand on his son's forehead to channel the powerful magic needed for a Memory Enchantment.
[Wait.] Amenhotep felt a hand on top of his own. [Don't do this.]
[How can I not?] He turned to face his Guardian. [I need to protect my son. The memories are too dangerous.]
[Amenhotep, the memories have no physical power over the boy. They are not the danger.]
[Everything is dangerous.]
[Something is dangerous only when it has the power of your fear over you.] When the pharaoh did not reply, Azrak continued.
[Why do you refuse to see the truth? What are you afraid of?]
The pharaoh was about to reply in anger when he caught the Guardian's concerned look. He hesitated. His anger slowly ebbed away, replaced by feelings of fear and doubt that rolled over him. What if he was wrong? But he couldn't be wrong; he had faced the dangers of the Realm and knew its dark power. He was afraid for his son. But, he asked, am I afraid for myself as well? Yes, yes I'm very afraid. The Realm is a danger for all those whose lives are touched by its Shadow. He wanted to shelter his son from the Darkness. But he knew he couldn't. He hadn't. The Realm had almost claimed him and he had not been there to save his son. He had failed in his duty as a father. Instead, the Magician of Darkness had saved him. It hurt to admit it. As much as he tried to deny it, he couldn't. He was not strong enough to protect his child.
[I am afraid. of the Dark.] The Guardian put an arm around his partner's tired shoulders.
[You are a child of the Dark, but you are safe as long as I am your Guardian. I am bound to protect you. Little Yu-gi-oh has the same destiny. He too needs a Guardian.]
[But so soon?]
The Sage nodded. [He will need guidance.]
Amenhotep sighed in resignation. He had wanted to protect his son for as long as possible. Now, he only hoped that Yami's path would not be a difficult one. [How do we convince the Council to release Sihrr then?]
The Sage smiled grimly.
[We don't.]
Sihrr felt as if his mind had been yanked up from calm settled depths to a turbulent and icy surface. Sitting up, he held his head and groaned. Living without magic was exhausting. He felt even emptier when he felt the lifelessness of the severed connection between him and the child. Damn curse. Damn Council. Damn life. His head throbbed while his heart slowly caved in from the hollowness.
Then, he felt it. A subtle twist of magic penetrated the shimmering walls of the Hexagram Curse. Two tall forms appeared. He leapt to his feet, ignoring the dizziness that assaulted him, dimly aware that he was clutching something in his hand. It was the Pharaoh and the Guardian.
"We don't have much time." The Guardian stepped forward, azure eyes intensely solemn. He extended a hand to the Magician, who regarded it wearily. "The boy you rescued; are you willing to give up everything for him?"
His heart leapt with irrational joy but was instantly crushed by reason and logic. They had already taken everything away from him, including the child. The emptiness in his heart reminded him they were no longer connected. His honour as a warrior was tarnished; he would be an outcast in his society. What was he supposed to say?
"Why?" he asked.
"Because you are his chosen Guardian."
Sihrr felt as if he had been slapped in the face. "If I am his Guardian, then why am I treated like some wrong-doer?!"
The Sage shook his head. "That was the doing of the Council. They do not understand the mistake of their actions. You are the child's Guardian."
"What proof do you have of that?"
"I have no proof but what you feel in your heart. And what he feels in his."
"I can't feel anything," he replied bitterly, "except emptiness." The Sage looked at him with an expression of pity. Impaled by the Sage's sympathy, the magician felt vulnerable and weak. He hated that others could see him like this.
"It is the Hexagram curse. It is blocking your connection as well as your magic." Sihrr looked at the elder magician. The expression spoke of past hurt and pain, fear of trusting again, wariness at being betrayed by others and a small glimmer of hope struggling to survive under it all. The various emotions tore him in different directions.
"Please, there is not much time. You must decide."
He couldn't.
Amenhotep saw the Magician hesitate. He stepped forward. "Think of your partner. My son. His name," he paused, almost reluctant to give his son's name; "is Yami. It means 'little dark'. "
"Yami." He whispered the name. He could hear the little boy call his name. Sihrr made his decision.
"What must I give up?"
"You will most likely be an outcast, once the Council discovers that you have escaped and gone against their judgement," the Sage stated frankly.
So that was the price.
"It doesn't matter."
"Are you sure? What of your clan and your family?"
"I have no family. I will always be a warrior of the Azima, but I want to be Yami's Guardian." He said it quietly, but there was blue fire behind the words. The pharaoh and his Guardian smiled.
"Come then." The Sage took the Magician's free hand and concentrated. Chanting softly, he disentangled the bindings of the Curse from the Magician. There was a soft sigh of relief as Sihrr felt magic flood through him again. Relaxing, he let the Sage's magic carry them away from the Realm and into the mortal world. He whispered a silent good-bye to the barren wilds of Sahrae, the little village of the Azima he had grown up in and the warrior's life that he had known.
He opened his eyes, blinking from the unaccustomed brightness of sunlight. He was in a stately room with the pharaoh and the Sage. Sihrr moved his limbs experimentally and found that being in the mortal world was no different. His magic was intact. He became aware that he was still holding the card that the Trap Master had given him but he also noticed something else. The golden cord! It hummed and danced again with life, as if in joy.
The pharaoh moved to a couch and picked up something that was obscured from the Magician's view. He spoke softly, and Sihrr could hear a sleepy response. His nerves quivered and his stomach flip-flopped as the Egyptian slowly turned around.
"Yami, I believe the person you were looking for has found you."
Crimson eyes met sapphire. The little prince jumped down from his father's arms and hugged the Magician around the knees.
"Sihrr!" The Magician crouched down and returned the embrace, feeling a surge of magic flow between them. His partner. It was the most exhilarating happiness he had ever felt. He was so wrapped up in emotion that he failed to notice the dark Eye of Horus that glowed on his forehead. He was only aware of the small boy in his arms.
Yami buried his face in the long purple hair. This time, he had won.
Vocabulary and Explanations
"Ab" = father
"Ahalan" = hello
"SabaH el-kheir" = good morning
I use a mixture of Egyptian and Arabic for this fic. I would use pure Egyptian, but it's freaking hard to find a translator site for all the words I need! Just a few interesting morsels:
- Azrak's name means blue, for the colour of his eyes (I'm a HUGE fan of eye colour, if you haven't noticed!)
- Sihrr's name remains a mystery =). Take a guess! Anyone who can guess right will get. umm. (rummages around pockets) a Halloween kit-kat bar.
- Sihrr's clan name, Azima, actually has no relevance. I was looking down the long list of Arabic words but there wasn't anything significant, so I just chose a really cool sounding word. Or else (I'm not sure which) I just made up the word.
- Karrah: that, again, probably doesn't mean anything, but in my story, it means commoner (in a bad sense)
Personal Notes
Maria: thank you so much for reviewing! =) Whenever I got stuck writing, I would go and read your comment. Thanks for the inspiration and encouragement.
Nicole: hehehe. mid-terms are over, so you have no excuse for not writing! If I'm writing (ouch! Don't crack so hard, woman!) then you have to write too!
Everyone, meet Nicole Silverwolf. (holds up sign saying "wave") She is
- author of many amazing fanfics (including May It Be; read this, people)
- fellow student struggling under the evils of post-secondary education
- my new pre-reader!
If this chapter is actually good, it is because she made many helpful suggestions. =) Xie xie.
I have taken artistic liberty in the fic. For example, as Nicole pointed out to me, I explain Yami's name as meaning 'little dark'. I know it doesn't translate like that, so don't spear me for it (runs away from Lord of the Flies). The meaning is only in a connotative sense.
Personal notes and little tidbits on foreign words and their meanings after the story. Don't want you to fall asleep before you actually get to chapter six!
Chapter Seven: Beginnings
The grand hall of the palace, flooded with the cool grey light of early morning. The hall was filled with people gathered in loose lines, waiting to have their cases heard by the Living Horus. They brought with them the smells and colours of ordinary life. Sand mixed with jet-black plaits, simple linen clothes were brown with many washings and faces were grey with dirt, but the hall itself remained immaculate. Though the crowd was large, they made little noise. Only a quiet murmur rippled through the hall. The only clear voice to be heard was the deep baritone words of the pharaoh.
The pharaoh was seated at the front of the hall, patiently listening to the problems of the people and proffering required judgement. As Ra climbed to its peak, the masses of people did not thin but continued to snake in disorganised lines through the hall.
The pharaoh rose from his golden throne. Immediately, the entire hall fell on to their knees. The Son of Horus and Amun-Ra surveyed them for a regal moment, before smiling kindly and bidding them to rise. They did so with bowed heads of respect as the divine king was escorted from the hall by a phalanx of guards, leaving a judge with clear grey eyes in his place.
Amenhotep dismissed his train with a regal sweep of his ceremonial ankh as they approached his quarters. Two took up position outside the door to his rooms. The pharaoh entered, making his way to a dressing table. Carefully, he removed the heavy double crown and golden ceremonial adornments and placed them beside the crook and ankh. He sighed, glad to be rid of the burdens. The air rippled beside him and a moment later, Azrak appeared.
"Ahalan, Amenhotep." The pharaoh greeted the Guardian with a brief smile.
"Ahalan, Azrak." His smile faded. "Have you punished the Magician yet?"
"The Council of Elders had a meeting to judge his actions. He has been punished but." The Sage frowned. It would be difficult for his partner to accept that what the Council had done was wrong.
"But what?"
"The Council judged him to be innocent of any wrong-doing, yet they condemned him to imprisonment."
"There must be some mistake in the judgement, but he deserves the imprisonment. He trespassed into my son's Soul Room," Amenhotep replied coldly.
"You do not understand. Sihrr has done nothing wrong." He explained what the Magician had testified. Amenhotep listened with crossed arms.
"There is no denying he was in Yu-gi-oh's Soul Room. But I believe he had a right to be there."
The pharaoh bristled. "Azrak, don't tell me you seriously believe he is my son's Guardian."
"It is the only explanation. He does not have the skill to force entry into a Soul Room. He saved your son. He never told Yu-gi-oh his name, yet your son knew it."
"I don't care about the details. Yami was hurt, he was in the Soul Room; all evidence points to his guilt."
"Do not let your emotions cloud your judgement, Amenhotep. Use the Eye of Horus; see the truth."
"Divine One?" The pharaoh and his Guardian turned to face the guard. "The young prince seeks your audience."
[We will continue this conversation later.] Azrak disappeared.
"Let him in." The guard bowed and returned with a grave little boy. Father and son waited in silence for the guard to leave. When the servant did so, the pharaoh relaxed and allowed himself to smile.
"SabaH el-kheir, little one," he said, scooping up his son. Yami grinned and hugged the pharaoh around the neck.
"Are you feeling better, Yami?" The boy nodded then frowned. Amenhotep noticed.
"What bothers you?" Yami hesitated, a look of childish uncertainty crossing his face.
"You can tell me anything," Amenhotep encouraged gently. Quickly, he checked on his wife through their telepathic link. He found her still sleeping and decided not to disturb her. No need to worry her when she was still so exhausted. He turned his attention back to his son.
"Ab, something happened to me last night, didn't it? I don't remember most of it but I remember something strange." His forehead scrunched up slightly. "Most of all, I remember blue eyes. No one I know has blue eyes, ab. Who was that?"
"I think you must have had a very strange dream yesterday, Yami."
"But it seemed so real."
"Sometimes, dreams can seem very real. But no matter how real they seem, they are not." The child contemplated for a moment.
"I woke up this morning and I felt something strange." Amenhotep's red eyes closely studied his son's face. "I wanted to remember a name. The eyes had a name, but I forgot. I kept trying to remember but I couldn't. And then, I felt something else. This," -he struggled for a word- "pulling inside." His childish crimson eyes sobered in a moment of maturity. "It felt safe and it felt right. But then, it stopped. I know it has something to do with the thing I can't remember but I need to find it. I need to remember." Yami took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly, trying not to feel upset. He felt the arms under him shift into a more comfortable position.
"Shh, little dark. It's alright," Amenhotep soothed. He continued murmuring comforting words. He could feel the tense anxiety of the child's emotions, as if they were a frayed rope stretched too tightly. Yet, he could also detect an underlying current of steel. Reaching out, he projected feelings of calm and reassurance. To his surprise, he felt his attempts rebuffed by a determination that caught him off-guard. Yami's untrained will was almost strong enough to reject his magic. Amenhotep let a bit more power flow into his magic to increase its influence. He was rewarded when the crimson eyes began to soften then close. Soon, Yami was asleep in his arms.
Amenhotep laid him carefully on a cushioned reclining couch. He couldn't help but feel impressed by his son's strength. Few had the ability to resist his magic. When old enough to train, Yami would be one of the most promising apprentices in the manipulation of Shadow Power. But not until then, he thought, gazing tenderly at the sleeping child. Yami moved in his sleep and cried softly.
"Sihrr. don't go."
The Egyptian froze. That name. There was no possible way that his son should have remembered anything of his encounter with the Realm. Yet, he had clearly spoken the Shadow being's name. It would be dangerous to let him recall any more. He made his decision. He placed a hand on his son's forehead to channel the powerful magic needed for a Memory Enchantment.
[Wait.] Amenhotep felt a hand on top of his own. [Don't do this.]
[How can I not?] He turned to face his Guardian. [I need to protect my son. The memories are too dangerous.]
[Amenhotep, the memories have no physical power over the boy. They are not the danger.]
[Everything is dangerous.]
[Something is dangerous only when it has the power of your fear over you.] When the pharaoh did not reply, Azrak continued.
[Why do you refuse to see the truth? What are you afraid of?]
The pharaoh was about to reply in anger when he caught the Guardian's concerned look. He hesitated. His anger slowly ebbed away, replaced by feelings of fear and doubt that rolled over him. What if he was wrong? But he couldn't be wrong; he had faced the dangers of the Realm and knew its dark power. He was afraid for his son. But, he asked, am I afraid for myself as well? Yes, yes I'm very afraid. The Realm is a danger for all those whose lives are touched by its Shadow. He wanted to shelter his son from the Darkness. But he knew he couldn't. He hadn't. The Realm had almost claimed him and he had not been there to save his son. He had failed in his duty as a father. Instead, the Magician of Darkness had saved him. It hurt to admit it. As much as he tried to deny it, he couldn't. He was not strong enough to protect his child.
[I am afraid. of the Dark.] The Guardian put an arm around his partner's tired shoulders.
[You are a child of the Dark, but you are safe as long as I am your Guardian. I am bound to protect you. Little Yu-gi-oh has the same destiny. He too needs a Guardian.]
[But so soon?]
The Sage nodded. [He will need guidance.]
Amenhotep sighed in resignation. He had wanted to protect his son for as long as possible. Now, he only hoped that Yami's path would not be a difficult one. [How do we convince the Council to release Sihrr then?]
The Sage smiled grimly.
[We don't.]
Sihrr felt as if his mind had been yanked up from calm settled depths to a turbulent and icy surface. Sitting up, he held his head and groaned. Living without magic was exhausting. He felt even emptier when he felt the lifelessness of the severed connection between him and the child. Damn curse. Damn Council. Damn life. His head throbbed while his heart slowly caved in from the hollowness.
Then, he felt it. A subtle twist of magic penetrated the shimmering walls of the Hexagram Curse. Two tall forms appeared. He leapt to his feet, ignoring the dizziness that assaulted him, dimly aware that he was clutching something in his hand. It was the Pharaoh and the Guardian.
"We don't have much time." The Guardian stepped forward, azure eyes intensely solemn. He extended a hand to the Magician, who regarded it wearily. "The boy you rescued; are you willing to give up everything for him?"
His heart leapt with irrational joy but was instantly crushed by reason and logic. They had already taken everything away from him, including the child. The emptiness in his heart reminded him they were no longer connected. His honour as a warrior was tarnished; he would be an outcast in his society. What was he supposed to say?
"Why?" he asked.
"Because you are his chosen Guardian."
Sihrr felt as if he had been slapped in the face. "If I am his Guardian, then why am I treated like some wrong-doer?!"
The Sage shook his head. "That was the doing of the Council. They do not understand the mistake of their actions. You are the child's Guardian."
"What proof do you have of that?"
"I have no proof but what you feel in your heart. And what he feels in his."
"I can't feel anything," he replied bitterly, "except emptiness." The Sage looked at him with an expression of pity. Impaled by the Sage's sympathy, the magician felt vulnerable and weak. He hated that others could see him like this.
"It is the Hexagram curse. It is blocking your connection as well as your magic." Sihrr looked at the elder magician. The expression spoke of past hurt and pain, fear of trusting again, wariness at being betrayed by others and a small glimmer of hope struggling to survive under it all. The various emotions tore him in different directions.
"Please, there is not much time. You must decide."
He couldn't.
Amenhotep saw the Magician hesitate. He stepped forward. "Think of your partner. My son. His name," he paused, almost reluctant to give his son's name; "is Yami. It means 'little dark'. "
"Yami." He whispered the name. He could hear the little boy call his name. Sihrr made his decision.
"What must I give up?"
"You will most likely be an outcast, once the Council discovers that you have escaped and gone against their judgement," the Sage stated frankly.
So that was the price.
"It doesn't matter."
"Are you sure? What of your clan and your family?"
"I have no family. I will always be a warrior of the Azima, but I want to be Yami's Guardian." He said it quietly, but there was blue fire behind the words. The pharaoh and his Guardian smiled.
"Come then." The Sage took the Magician's free hand and concentrated. Chanting softly, he disentangled the bindings of the Curse from the Magician. There was a soft sigh of relief as Sihrr felt magic flood through him again. Relaxing, he let the Sage's magic carry them away from the Realm and into the mortal world. He whispered a silent good-bye to the barren wilds of Sahrae, the little village of the Azima he had grown up in and the warrior's life that he had known.
He opened his eyes, blinking from the unaccustomed brightness of sunlight. He was in a stately room with the pharaoh and the Sage. Sihrr moved his limbs experimentally and found that being in the mortal world was no different. His magic was intact. He became aware that he was still holding the card that the Trap Master had given him but he also noticed something else. The golden cord! It hummed and danced again with life, as if in joy.
The pharaoh moved to a couch and picked up something that was obscured from the Magician's view. He spoke softly, and Sihrr could hear a sleepy response. His nerves quivered and his stomach flip-flopped as the Egyptian slowly turned around.
"Yami, I believe the person you were looking for has found you."
Crimson eyes met sapphire. The little prince jumped down from his father's arms and hugged the Magician around the knees.
"Sihrr!" The Magician crouched down and returned the embrace, feeling a surge of magic flow between them. His partner. It was the most exhilarating happiness he had ever felt. He was so wrapped up in emotion that he failed to notice the dark Eye of Horus that glowed on his forehead. He was only aware of the small boy in his arms.
Yami buried his face in the long purple hair. This time, he had won.
Vocabulary and Explanations
"Ab" = father
"Ahalan" = hello
"SabaH el-kheir" = good morning
I use a mixture of Egyptian and Arabic for this fic. I would use pure Egyptian, but it's freaking hard to find a translator site for all the words I need! Just a few interesting morsels:
- Azrak's name means blue, for the colour of his eyes (I'm a HUGE fan of eye colour, if you haven't noticed!)
- Sihrr's name remains a mystery =). Take a guess! Anyone who can guess right will get. umm. (rummages around pockets) a Halloween kit-kat bar.
- Sihrr's clan name, Azima, actually has no relevance. I was looking down the long list of Arabic words but there wasn't anything significant, so I just chose a really cool sounding word. Or else (I'm not sure which) I just made up the word.
- Karrah: that, again, probably doesn't mean anything, but in my story, it means commoner (in a bad sense)
Personal Notes
Maria: thank you so much for reviewing! =) Whenever I got stuck writing, I would go and read your comment. Thanks for the inspiration and encouragement.
Nicole: hehehe. mid-terms are over, so you have no excuse for not writing! If I'm writing (ouch! Don't crack so hard, woman!) then you have to write too!