*~*Disclaimer*~* Yadda, yadda, yadda........you all know what I'm gonna say. Now, LEMME TELL MY STORY!!!! Oh, btw, when it's a thought, it'll be, from now on, in these lil star things * * ok? That means 'it's a thought'! And if you see something like this: *~* etc, etc, etc...*~* that means that I'm flashing the story back and forth in time, or switching settings. You'll either see *~*Present*~* or *~*3003 BC*~* for time, or you'll see *~*Pharaoh's chamber*~* or sumthing. If there's not a *~* *~* time or place signature on it, it means that I'm stickin with the same time as before, ok?
*~*3003 BC*~*
"Yamara! YAMARA!"
The burning hot, desert sun was scorching the fertile lands of Egypt, and its inhabitants along with it on this longest day of the year. Her skin char broiled and her red lips dry and cracked, Yamara Doushin glanced lazily to her left, brushing her long ebony hair out of her eyes. She caught sight of white silken pants and smiled, glancing up towards her best friend. Squinting, she leaned up, forgetting her harvesting for figs for now, and faced her friend for the first time that day.
"Midnight, what is it this time? Priest Seto being impossible again? You know, you did just disturb me from harvesting the last of the figs this year." Standing up, her back stiff and rigid, Yamara faced Midnight, thankful for the rest.
Midnight's eyes, deep magenta to match the ruby red of her hair, began to burn fire, a pyre of light flashing in the daytime. "That priest, I swear, will be the death of me YET! Do you know what he did to me just a little while ago? He mixed crocodile scales with my healing salve. And do you know what that does?"
Grinning despite the hardship, the younger woman replied, "Let me see... I don't know anything about the magicks you practice, but I am willing to bet my life that whatever the High Priest did, it was catastrophic."
"That wasn't the HALF of it," groaned the Captain of the Guard, toying with the sharpened scimitar on her belt buckle, "He ended up making the whole thing explode."
*By the gods*, Yamara mused in her mind, adjusting her simple linen dress,*That priest is so love sick over Midnight that he probably can't put one foot in front of the other...* She sighed, her heart heavy. *In a way, I envy Midnight. At least she has someone who cares for her, even if she doesn't show her caring for him in return.* Smiling slightly, Yamara rationalized, *She doesn't show it, but she's told me many a time that she does feel something for him... Guess he will never know about it.*
"Midnight... it's only a little bit of flirting; I'm sure it wasn't all THAT serious. I mean, he wouldn't intentionally try and ruin it COMPLETELY. He knows how important the Shadow Games are to you, and wouldn't want to see you get hurt."
Midnight huffed, annoyed and indignant, "if it were my way, I would have thrown him out into the streets with all the other low lives and beggar boys out there..." she clenched her teeth, "That man is the very essence of Hell incarnate."
"Well, he can't be all that bad..."
Her black and ruby haired best friend stared at Yamara, as if she was the ghost of Cleopatra herself. "ARE YOU MAD? HE'S Set! He's the DEVIL! He should be left to burn in the Sahara!!!" Her eyes flickered slight tinges of gold, and for a moment, Yamara swore she could feel her knee-length, glossy black hair stick out and stand on end. She could feel the magicks brewing and forming around her in the air around her.
There was no doubt about it; although born a common peasant, Midnight was the god's child. Said to be blessed on her birth by Anubis himself, she was born on the bewitching hour, on all Hallow's Eve, earning her the name that she was bestowed. Priests far and wide felt the energy and cosmic forces that surrounded this phenomenal child, and all were rejected by her. It seemed to be in her destiny that she would become the strongest of the strong, the fiercest of the fierce, and the bravest of the brave. She was more suited to the captain of the Guard than anyone alive, and she took upon that mantle with pride. She could create pillars of fire, glaciers of ice, or cracks of thunder and lightning in an instant. To say the least, the display of her power brought her from peasant to Captain from day one.
It was the kind of life Yamara wished she had known; to see the insides of the palace walls, to see the face of Egypt's dear pharaoh, to study the ancient scrolls and stacks of papyrus that the best of scholars read everyday. She always had dreamed of a better life for herself, but still she stood, in a linen dress, with only a small gold trinket around her neck for anything close to jewelry.
The occasion of their meeting, however, was far from ironic. Leading the best of lives, the raven and ruby haired woman had caught her foot in a cobra trap. Using the best of her abilities, Yamara combined speed and expert lock picking skills to free Midnight's foot, mere seconds away from critically wounding the bravest of captains. The two women, although from seemingly different worlds had suddenly realized that their worlds had collided, and became fast friends.
The sounds of hoof beats interrupted Yamara's thoughts and the two ladies' conversation. Three velvet black stallions raced closer and closer to them, kicking up whirlwinds of dust and sand. The riders, clad in expensive rich clothing and trinkets, marked them as men of importance, from the Egyptian palace and the Pharaoh's company himself.
As they came closer, Yamara and Midnight could see the riders in all their arriving glory, the sun glinting and glittering off their golden armlets, chains and rings. The rider in front, flanked on either side by his companions, has silky hair the color of the sun, blazing gold in the noon day light. He was wearing a silken tunic of high quality, the triangular pattern on his collar setting off his longish hair. Also wearing sandals, he had the look of an Egyptian first classman, someone very close to the Pharaoh. Usually, it was not hard to figure out who this first classman was. After all, Egypt could only afford to have one scheming, fun loving Jono in its golden lands of sand.
The man on the left side of Jono was the very image of justice; clad in only silken pants and a few gold trinkets, including a gilded, scrolling, gold threaded belt. Sheathed in between the folds, was a sharp and deadly scimitar, inscribed with Egyptian hieroglyphs of varying importance. The man's ebony black hair was spiky and hung long down his broad and muscular shoulders, the deep tan contained there complimenting his facial features quite nicely. If there was ever a woman thief that ever faced Midnight's right hand man of the guard, she would have stopped dead cold at the sight of Lieutenant Shadi.
The third person in the party was not a man, but a woman, riding her stallion like an expert. Also dressed in the finest of silk, her hair was shoulder length, not long enough to even touch her golden neck piece around her shoulders, and dark as chocolate. Her eyes, a mesmerizing and shimmering blue, were kind, generous eyes, full of compassion for the people of Egypt. It was no wonder why the Pharaoh would pick someone caring as Teana as his best friend. She cared deeply for the people, and would rather stay and suffer with them than to enjoy the luxuries of the palace. She was adored by the people, and was so down to Earth that she knew of the people's sufferings, and would gladly find the time to come meet her people to offer her help.
It was clear now that the riders upon their velvety black stallions were coming straight toward Yamara and Midnight, both peasant and captain watching and waiting. Before they both knew it, the stallions were right in front of them, and Shadi immediately was half off his horse.
"Captain, High Priest Seto has urgent news upon your return to the palace." he stated, words crisp and precise. "As I understand it, the situation has something to do with an explosion?"
Midnight scowled, furiously. Growling, she replied, "That priest should be taken out to the desert to ROT." She sighed, knowing that she had to continue her guard duties anyway. "Alright Shadi, I will come with you."
"Then we shall be on our way, as soon as you retrieve your horse. Let's make haste to the Pharaoh's palace."
Yamara sighed, hating to see her best friend go so soon. "I will see you some other time, Midnight." she murmured, as Midnight called her horse Jasmine to her, and mounted the horse with ease. "You have plenty to discuss with the High Priest, I assume."
"Eh, she'll be back, they always do come back to da friends they got." declared Jono, interrupting the conversation. "Even if I gotta take her back here myself, she'll be back!" he grinned.
"But wait," interjected Teana, her eyes lighting up for a second, turning her attention to Yamara. "Miss? Won't you be attending the Matrimonial Dance later this evening?"
"Most likely not, I have no interest in dancing with dozens of enthralling men, throwing themselves at me." replied the lady peasant, twisting a piece of her hair between two fingers. "A man is as shallow as the banks of the Nile if he only bases his ideas on beauty, and is foolish if he wishes to find a bride using that excuse."
Coldly and disapprovingly, Shadi shook his head, steering his horse around in circles in the direction of the palace. "It is tradition that all unwed women attend. It is sinful to think otherwise, and Osiris will curse the names of those crude enough to break tradition."
Pausing to consider this, Yamara pulled on her belt cords, unsure and nervous about whether or not to stick to her original decision. Seeing this as a sign of uncertainty, Midnight's eyes went black, dark ebony pools of darkness and despair. Gathering her magicks to her, she emitted a powerful surge through her body and out her fingers; rippling golden spikes of lightning crashed mere millimeters away form Yamara's right foot, making the younger woman yelp in fear and shirk her bravery.
In a feral, almost growling voice, the child of Anubis himself roared, her steely voice speaking not only in Yamara's ringing ears, but also echoing in her very mind.
"Yamara Doushin, you are COMING TO THE MATRIMONIAL DANCE, or I will char your hide to ash!!!!!"
Her wide eyes darting around, looking at the crowd of now staring peasants, Yamara cowered to her knees, fearful of the power Midnight had at her disposal. Even after so many years of knowing her, Yamara still was afraid of what Midnight could become with that amount of power. Feebly, she mumbled "alright", the only sound she could possibly make at a time like this.
The three rider, however, were used to this display by now, since working with Midnight was always quite an adventure, and a challenge. For the most part, they were unfazed, however Jono's eyes wandered more and more, concerned with the growing crowd and keeping the powers of the Captain out of his mind; Teana only flinched, sympathy for Yamara shining in her brilliant blue eyes.
Finally, unable to stand the silence, the silk wearing sympathist voiced her opinion. "It's alright Yamara; you might even find your husband there! At the Dance, there will be food, dancing, and it is rumored that the Pharaoh himself will make an appearance!"
Yamara looked at the dark haired girl, shocked and surprised. "The Pharaoh? The God among men? At the Dance..." she paused, thinking.
"Yeah!" Teana beamed, "I believe he is seeking a wife."
"I'm surprised he would do such a thing! Although I would not be surprised to see that he would have no luck in finding a wife."
Midnight gasped, appalled at such a thought. "Yamara!"
"Let me finish" was the simple reply that Yamara gave. "I would not be surprised to see him come up empty handed, because no woman on Earth is worthy of being in such company as the Pharaoh's." She sighed, "To see the Pharaoh in person..." Gazing off in a daydream, Yamara smiled slightly, her voice soft at the mention of his name. "To see the Pharaoh, the son of the gods in person. Aye, to that, I will come and dance to."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Somewhere Inside the Palace Walls*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Deep inside the palace depths, in the Pharaoh's personal chambers, Yami began to pace, nervous and lost in thought about the Matrimonial Dance.
*If I don't take a wife before tomorrow, my sixteenth year of life, I know I will lose my kingdom!* He moaned slightly at that thought. *But I can't just pick any lady in all of Egypt; she has to be the RIGHT ONE, not only for me, but for my people as well...*
His thoughts trailed off, and, sighing, he began to fiddle with all forty rings on his fingers, as well as the dozens of armlets and golden chains that he had gotten used to wearing to show his wealth. As if suddenly realizing this fact, out loud he questioned, "Yes, they are to show my wealth, but to whom am I showing it to?"
*The Pharaoh of Egypt is supposed to be a living god,* deep in reverie, Yami mused at his own title, and smiled slightly. *However, I am afraid that I am only human, only flesh and blood...*
His mind wandering again, Yami amused himself with how many excuses he could use to get his mind off the Matrimonial Dance, and his upcoming marriage. Unsurprisingly, the Shadow Games were at the top of his list, his favorite game of skill, cunning, and strategy. Encouraged to play the thrilling game as a means of planning strategy, Yami had became the best of the best, not failing to win when he needed a victory badly. It was considered to be the ultimate challenge to face the Pharaoh, or, in Yami's case, to face the few worthy of challenging him. He never lost a duel, not once, in all the duels he had played in his almost sixteen years. The only one noble and daring enough to even come close to defeating him was High Priest Seto, who almost obliterated Yami's favorite monster to play, the Dark Magician. He had come so close, close enough that he was one attack away from shattering the stone tablet containing the awesome powers, as the Dark Magician had.
*Seto really lives up to his dubbed name,* thought Yami, adjusting his silk, milky white pants. *The 'Dragon Master' almost killed my Dark Magician with one of his Blue Eyes White Dragons.*
However, when in trouble, Yami always kept his cool, a contrast to his fiery red hair and his fierce demeanor. When always faced with opposition, the young Pharaoh would always brush his blonde bangs out of his eyes, and would plan his escape from near defeat. The match against Seto was no different. His move was brilliant; using the hidden abilities of the Dark Magician, he had his faithful, magic wielding friend deal itself and the High Priest's Blue Eyes in matching sarcophagi. Then, in a flicker of movement and mysticism, the Magician switched places with the Blue Eyes, granting the Dark magician life, and bringing the Dragon beast to its end in a rain of scimitars. With easy access to his life pool, the Dark Magician obliterated the priest's health, and ended the match with the young pharaoh as the victor.
*I'm anxious to face Seto again,* thought Yami, directing his gaze lazily around the room. The pyre flames of the flame lanterns around his bed were what drew his attention, mesmerized by how quickly the flames rose, and fell. It was hypnotic to watch them flicker and burst, to watch them shoot up and curl, only to blaze and then die.
"Like life," he murmured, feeling sleepy. It was as if he had not slept in ages; the fatigue kept growing and growing in his mind and his body. Resisting at first, he continued with his thoughts, but not even the Pharaoh of all of Egypt could escape the grips of slumber from its catch. Tired, he pulled back the dark red satin sheets of his bed, and slowly began to doze off. Before his eyes closed completely, his last words rang throughout the chamber walls.
"The dance is but a sleep away, and tonight will be a night I will not soon forget..."
*~*3003 BC*~*
"Yamara! YAMARA!"
The burning hot, desert sun was scorching the fertile lands of Egypt, and its inhabitants along with it on this longest day of the year. Her skin char broiled and her red lips dry and cracked, Yamara Doushin glanced lazily to her left, brushing her long ebony hair out of her eyes. She caught sight of white silken pants and smiled, glancing up towards her best friend. Squinting, she leaned up, forgetting her harvesting for figs for now, and faced her friend for the first time that day.
"Midnight, what is it this time? Priest Seto being impossible again? You know, you did just disturb me from harvesting the last of the figs this year." Standing up, her back stiff and rigid, Yamara faced Midnight, thankful for the rest.
Midnight's eyes, deep magenta to match the ruby red of her hair, began to burn fire, a pyre of light flashing in the daytime. "That priest, I swear, will be the death of me YET! Do you know what he did to me just a little while ago? He mixed crocodile scales with my healing salve. And do you know what that does?"
Grinning despite the hardship, the younger woman replied, "Let me see... I don't know anything about the magicks you practice, but I am willing to bet my life that whatever the High Priest did, it was catastrophic."
"That wasn't the HALF of it," groaned the Captain of the Guard, toying with the sharpened scimitar on her belt buckle, "He ended up making the whole thing explode."
*By the gods*, Yamara mused in her mind, adjusting her simple linen dress,*That priest is so love sick over Midnight that he probably can't put one foot in front of the other...* She sighed, her heart heavy. *In a way, I envy Midnight. At least she has someone who cares for her, even if she doesn't show her caring for him in return.* Smiling slightly, Yamara rationalized, *She doesn't show it, but she's told me many a time that she does feel something for him... Guess he will never know about it.*
"Midnight... it's only a little bit of flirting; I'm sure it wasn't all THAT serious. I mean, he wouldn't intentionally try and ruin it COMPLETELY. He knows how important the Shadow Games are to you, and wouldn't want to see you get hurt."
Midnight huffed, annoyed and indignant, "if it were my way, I would have thrown him out into the streets with all the other low lives and beggar boys out there..." she clenched her teeth, "That man is the very essence of Hell incarnate."
"Well, he can't be all that bad..."
Her black and ruby haired best friend stared at Yamara, as if she was the ghost of Cleopatra herself. "ARE YOU MAD? HE'S Set! He's the DEVIL! He should be left to burn in the Sahara!!!" Her eyes flickered slight tinges of gold, and for a moment, Yamara swore she could feel her knee-length, glossy black hair stick out and stand on end. She could feel the magicks brewing and forming around her in the air around her.
There was no doubt about it; although born a common peasant, Midnight was the god's child. Said to be blessed on her birth by Anubis himself, she was born on the bewitching hour, on all Hallow's Eve, earning her the name that she was bestowed. Priests far and wide felt the energy and cosmic forces that surrounded this phenomenal child, and all were rejected by her. It seemed to be in her destiny that she would become the strongest of the strong, the fiercest of the fierce, and the bravest of the brave. She was more suited to the captain of the Guard than anyone alive, and she took upon that mantle with pride. She could create pillars of fire, glaciers of ice, or cracks of thunder and lightning in an instant. To say the least, the display of her power brought her from peasant to Captain from day one.
It was the kind of life Yamara wished she had known; to see the insides of the palace walls, to see the face of Egypt's dear pharaoh, to study the ancient scrolls and stacks of papyrus that the best of scholars read everyday. She always had dreamed of a better life for herself, but still she stood, in a linen dress, with only a small gold trinket around her neck for anything close to jewelry.
The occasion of their meeting, however, was far from ironic. Leading the best of lives, the raven and ruby haired woman had caught her foot in a cobra trap. Using the best of her abilities, Yamara combined speed and expert lock picking skills to free Midnight's foot, mere seconds away from critically wounding the bravest of captains. The two women, although from seemingly different worlds had suddenly realized that their worlds had collided, and became fast friends.
The sounds of hoof beats interrupted Yamara's thoughts and the two ladies' conversation. Three velvet black stallions raced closer and closer to them, kicking up whirlwinds of dust and sand. The riders, clad in expensive rich clothing and trinkets, marked them as men of importance, from the Egyptian palace and the Pharaoh's company himself.
As they came closer, Yamara and Midnight could see the riders in all their arriving glory, the sun glinting and glittering off their golden armlets, chains and rings. The rider in front, flanked on either side by his companions, has silky hair the color of the sun, blazing gold in the noon day light. He was wearing a silken tunic of high quality, the triangular pattern on his collar setting off his longish hair. Also wearing sandals, he had the look of an Egyptian first classman, someone very close to the Pharaoh. Usually, it was not hard to figure out who this first classman was. After all, Egypt could only afford to have one scheming, fun loving Jono in its golden lands of sand.
The man on the left side of Jono was the very image of justice; clad in only silken pants and a few gold trinkets, including a gilded, scrolling, gold threaded belt. Sheathed in between the folds, was a sharp and deadly scimitar, inscribed with Egyptian hieroglyphs of varying importance. The man's ebony black hair was spiky and hung long down his broad and muscular shoulders, the deep tan contained there complimenting his facial features quite nicely. If there was ever a woman thief that ever faced Midnight's right hand man of the guard, she would have stopped dead cold at the sight of Lieutenant Shadi.
The third person in the party was not a man, but a woman, riding her stallion like an expert. Also dressed in the finest of silk, her hair was shoulder length, not long enough to even touch her golden neck piece around her shoulders, and dark as chocolate. Her eyes, a mesmerizing and shimmering blue, were kind, generous eyes, full of compassion for the people of Egypt. It was no wonder why the Pharaoh would pick someone caring as Teana as his best friend. She cared deeply for the people, and would rather stay and suffer with them than to enjoy the luxuries of the palace. She was adored by the people, and was so down to Earth that she knew of the people's sufferings, and would gladly find the time to come meet her people to offer her help.
It was clear now that the riders upon their velvety black stallions were coming straight toward Yamara and Midnight, both peasant and captain watching and waiting. Before they both knew it, the stallions were right in front of them, and Shadi immediately was half off his horse.
"Captain, High Priest Seto has urgent news upon your return to the palace." he stated, words crisp and precise. "As I understand it, the situation has something to do with an explosion?"
Midnight scowled, furiously. Growling, she replied, "That priest should be taken out to the desert to ROT." She sighed, knowing that she had to continue her guard duties anyway. "Alright Shadi, I will come with you."
"Then we shall be on our way, as soon as you retrieve your horse. Let's make haste to the Pharaoh's palace."
Yamara sighed, hating to see her best friend go so soon. "I will see you some other time, Midnight." she murmured, as Midnight called her horse Jasmine to her, and mounted the horse with ease. "You have plenty to discuss with the High Priest, I assume."
"Eh, she'll be back, they always do come back to da friends they got." declared Jono, interrupting the conversation. "Even if I gotta take her back here myself, she'll be back!" he grinned.
"But wait," interjected Teana, her eyes lighting up for a second, turning her attention to Yamara. "Miss? Won't you be attending the Matrimonial Dance later this evening?"
"Most likely not, I have no interest in dancing with dozens of enthralling men, throwing themselves at me." replied the lady peasant, twisting a piece of her hair between two fingers. "A man is as shallow as the banks of the Nile if he only bases his ideas on beauty, and is foolish if he wishes to find a bride using that excuse."
Coldly and disapprovingly, Shadi shook his head, steering his horse around in circles in the direction of the palace. "It is tradition that all unwed women attend. It is sinful to think otherwise, and Osiris will curse the names of those crude enough to break tradition."
Pausing to consider this, Yamara pulled on her belt cords, unsure and nervous about whether or not to stick to her original decision. Seeing this as a sign of uncertainty, Midnight's eyes went black, dark ebony pools of darkness and despair. Gathering her magicks to her, she emitted a powerful surge through her body and out her fingers; rippling golden spikes of lightning crashed mere millimeters away form Yamara's right foot, making the younger woman yelp in fear and shirk her bravery.
In a feral, almost growling voice, the child of Anubis himself roared, her steely voice speaking not only in Yamara's ringing ears, but also echoing in her very mind.
"Yamara Doushin, you are COMING TO THE MATRIMONIAL DANCE, or I will char your hide to ash!!!!!"
Her wide eyes darting around, looking at the crowd of now staring peasants, Yamara cowered to her knees, fearful of the power Midnight had at her disposal. Even after so many years of knowing her, Yamara still was afraid of what Midnight could become with that amount of power. Feebly, she mumbled "alright", the only sound she could possibly make at a time like this.
The three rider, however, were used to this display by now, since working with Midnight was always quite an adventure, and a challenge. For the most part, they were unfazed, however Jono's eyes wandered more and more, concerned with the growing crowd and keeping the powers of the Captain out of his mind; Teana only flinched, sympathy for Yamara shining in her brilliant blue eyes.
Finally, unable to stand the silence, the silk wearing sympathist voiced her opinion. "It's alright Yamara; you might even find your husband there! At the Dance, there will be food, dancing, and it is rumored that the Pharaoh himself will make an appearance!"
Yamara looked at the dark haired girl, shocked and surprised. "The Pharaoh? The God among men? At the Dance..." she paused, thinking.
"Yeah!" Teana beamed, "I believe he is seeking a wife."
"I'm surprised he would do such a thing! Although I would not be surprised to see that he would have no luck in finding a wife."
Midnight gasped, appalled at such a thought. "Yamara!"
"Let me finish" was the simple reply that Yamara gave. "I would not be surprised to see him come up empty handed, because no woman on Earth is worthy of being in such company as the Pharaoh's." She sighed, "To see the Pharaoh in person..." Gazing off in a daydream, Yamara smiled slightly, her voice soft at the mention of his name. "To see the Pharaoh, the son of the gods in person. Aye, to that, I will come and dance to."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Somewhere Inside the Palace Walls*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Deep inside the palace depths, in the Pharaoh's personal chambers, Yami began to pace, nervous and lost in thought about the Matrimonial Dance.
*If I don't take a wife before tomorrow, my sixteenth year of life, I know I will lose my kingdom!* He moaned slightly at that thought. *But I can't just pick any lady in all of Egypt; she has to be the RIGHT ONE, not only for me, but for my people as well...*
His thoughts trailed off, and, sighing, he began to fiddle with all forty rings on his fingers, as well as the dozens of armlets and golden chains that he had gotten used to wearing to show his wealth. As if suddenly realizing this fact, out loud he questioned, "Yes, they are to show my wealth, but to whom am I showing it to?"
*The Pharaoh of Egypt is supposed to be a living god,* deep in reverie, Yami mused at his own title, and smiled slightly. *However, I am afraid that I am only human, only flesh and blood...*
His mind wandering again, Yami amused himself with how many excuses he could use to get his mind off the Matrimonial Dance, and his upcoming marriage. Unsurprisingly, the Shadow Games were at the top of his list, his favorite game of skill, cunning, and strategy. Encouraged to play the thrilling game as a means of planning strategy, Yami had became the best of the best, not failing to win when he needed a victory badly. It was considered to be the ultimate challenge to face the Pharaoh, or, in Yami's case, to face the few worthy of challenging him. He never lost a duel, not once, in all the duels he had played in his almost sixteen years. The only one noble and daring enough to even come close to defeating him was High Priest Seto, who almost obliterated Yami's favorite monster to play, the Dark Magician. He had come so close, close enough that he was one attack away from shattering the stone tablet containing the awesome powers, as the Dark Magician had.
*Seto really lives up to his dubbed name,* thought Yami, adjusting his silk, milky white pants. *The 'Dragon Master' almost killed my Dark Magician with one of his Blue Eyes White Dragons.*
However, when in trouble, Yami always kept his cool, a contrast to his fiery red hair and his fierce demeanor. When always faced with opposition, the young Pharaoh would always brush his blonde bangs out of his eyes, and would plan his escape from near defeat. The match against Seto was no different. His move was brilliant; using the hidden abilities of the Dark Magician, he had his faithful, magic wielding friend deal itself and the High Priest's Blue Eyes in matching sarcophagi. Then, in a flicker of movement and mysticism, the Magician switched places with the Blue Eyes, granting the Dark magician life, and bringing the Dragon beast to its end in a rain of scimitars. With easy access to his life pool, the Dark Magician obliterated the priest's health, and ended the match with the young pharaoh as the victor.
*I'm anxious to face Seto again,* thought Yami, directing his gaze lazily around the room. The pyre flames of the flame lanterns around his bed were what drew his attention, mesmerized by how quickly the flames rose, and fell. It was hypnotic to watch them flicker and burst, to watch them shoot up and curl, only to blaze and then die.
"Like life," he murmured, feeling sleepy. It was as if he had not slept in ages; the fatigue kept growing and growing in his mind and his body. Resisting at first, he continued with his thoughts, but not even the Pharaoh of all of Egypt could escape the grips of slumber from its catch. Tired, he pulled back the dark red satin sheets of his bed, and slowly began to doze off. Before his eyes closed completely, his last words rang throughout the chamber walls.
"The dance is but a sleep away, and tonight will be a night I will not soon forget..."