Chapter 5: The Boy King, Beloved by All

This new room was much bigger then the other one. Whereas the other one was shaped like a cross, all the walls covered with the story of the magic stones, this one was a rectangle, with numerous pillars placed in neat rows like a grove of stone trees. And the story in this place was something truly incredible.

Alex's torch sputtered and went out. Then the professor's. The three looked at each other sheepishly, and crouched on the floor for a moment to reassemble themselves. The professor, because he was the one doing the translating, took the remaining torch, and Alex and Sarah lit candles. Soon they were back, listening to Professor Champollion as he carefully worked out what the ancient writing was saying…

After the unleashing of the Shadow Powers, the Pharaoh was again the supreme force in the land. With each rival he locked in shadows his spells grew stronger. The summonings, which at first had been little more then drawings on stone, began to move and breath. They began to cause damage, real damage, to things in the mortal world. And because the pharaoh held all the most powerful creatures, his rule was unquestioned.

Some kings feared this power, the power to summon destruction out of the very stones. But to maintain his position, the king had to be the best duelist of all, and by the Twelfth dynasty the priesthood that had command of the temples where the duel stones resided, had produced many gifted young magicians to oppose him. The strongest of these was Seto Sutekh-Sokar. His talents were such that he was made high priest at the age of twelve. His ruthless nature was apparent in his snapping blue eyes, and the Pharaoh feared him, until one rose who blew the talented Seto out of the water, so to speak.

He was a prince, the seventeenth prince of the Twelfth Dynasty, the mightiest dynasty ever to rule Egypt, and the last in a line of great kings. Conspirators in the halls spoke of him in fearful tones, and whispered that he must be the son of a demon. He never cried, even when he was born. Some feared he was simple, but his violet eyes burned with an intensity that quickly abolished that rumor, at least to those closest to him. His mother watched in silent awe of this thing she had produced, and yet could not shake the feeling that he was not hers, in some way. She wondered if the rumors were true, could he really a demon, or a god come down to earth? His quietness never troubled her, there was too much fire in his eyes for him to be simple, and she assured her husband that he would speak when he was ready. Sure enough, at the end of his fourth year he did begin to speak; full sentences, with none of the babble that normally accompanies childhood speech. His voice was boyish, but it had a quiet authority underneath it and commanded obedience. All who knew him knew he was different.

Never one for the frivolous pursuits of childhood, at the age of six he suggested to his father that the Fayum, the salty marshland west of the Nile Valley, might be reclaimed and irrigated, to liberate the royal house from being completely dependent on the provinces for food and supplies. The royal treasury was already rich with gold from the Nubian expeditions, and an independent food source would further strengthen their position. The king was intrigued by this idea, although dismayed when his son insisted on being the leader down into the treacherous bog. Schemers dwelled with hope on the possibility of an accident, but the boy's mother was not worried. She convinced the king to let the prince have his way. A royal magician went with him, for the prince would still need to learn to play Dark Games, and the marsh was the ultimate place to do this, away from the eyes of the conspirators.   

 Traditionally, the Middle Kingdom pharaoh's placed their heirs in command of the military troops, to let the people become aquatinted with their future ruler. This young prince received this commanding power at a much younger age then most. At the age of seven, he led a single group down to the Fayum to make his idea a reality. There, the men came to love him, this strange small creature with the crown on his brow, and the fire in his eye and the strength in his voice that was not that of a child, mucking around in the bog and filth in common man's clothes, building dams and working just like one of them. When crocodiles or catastrophe took one of his men, he would fall grim and silent for days. He alone seemed immune to the diseases of the bog, and when most of his men fell ill with a tropical fever he looked after them himself. He and his teacher-magician would go to find herbs and brew medicines, which worked with amazing effect. The men would gladly lay down their lives for him.     

"They loved him for his courage, they loved him for his heart, they loved him for his confidence…He was loyal and true to his friends, deadly to his enemies, for none surpassed him in the Dark games… None could play the Dark games with such skill…such skill could only have been a gift from the gods…No crown did he wear, for he had been crowned by Ra himself…and behold, he was wise and good…" read Champollion from the wall. Sarah and Alex were speechless, staring around them with a mixture of fascination and bewilderment.

The story went on.

Time went by. In two years the Fayum was habitable, and peasant families were moved in to begin farming. The prince sent his father a letter asking for permission to begin a city here, pointing out the positives of making this new city their capital (difficult for invaders to access, totally self-maintaining, close to the river for easy transport). While the king was hesitant about moving the capital from the ancient historical Memphis to some place in a swamp, he blessed his son on the matter of a city, and more troops were sent down to aid the construction.

The city rose at an almost uncanny rate. Many credited this with the prince's impeccable management skills. There were whispers about the prince's mere presence filling the air with an unholy strength that let the men work from sunup to sun down, scarcely breaking a sweat all day, however, these rumors were never confirmed and the prince himself never believed them.

The mud cottages in the city were complete and construction was beginning on the stone temples four years after the prince first came to the Fayum. The first two harvests had been bountiful, and optimism was high.

However, there was trouble brewing.

Fourteen-year old Seto Sutekh-Sokar had been high priest for two years. Since surviving the rites of ascension his ruthlessness had intensified. Four two years he gathered his followers and resources, and now he was ready to make his move. One day came when the smirking Seto, flanked by his followers, went to the Pharaoh while he was holding court and smoothly issued his challenge.

  Seto challenged Pharaoh to a duel in the old fashion: if Pharaoh won, Seto and all his followers would be banished to the Shadow realm for all eternity; if Seto won, he king, his wife, and son would all go to the shadows forever, and Seto would become the new Pharaoh. Then the young High Priest closed by stating that the King should stop cowering and accept that if he couldn't defend his crown he didn't deserve to keep it. No man truly given his power by the gods could ever be so afraid of him, a mere priest, correct? The king is nothing but a street mongrel trying to lead a pack of jackals, and he, Seto, would tear him to pieces for it.  

The Pharaoh was trapped. It was widely known that Seto Sutekh-Sokar was the most talented duelist ever to yet surface, and the truth was that the aging king did fear him. But Seto had laid his trap well; although under normal circumstances the king could have him executed on the spot for those taunts, one duelist challenging another may disregard courtesy and say what he likes to call his opponent out. The only way to respond to such taunts was to accept the duel, and show the young High Priest the falsity of his words, those insults would hang over him forever else. The two headed down to the dueling arena, followed by an apprehensive court.   

The duel was intense. Pharaoh started by calling the Curse of Dragon, and the air was filled by the shrieks of the flying beast. Seto responded with the Gyateno Megami in defense, and the attack of the dragon was nullified. The king sent out Summoned Skull, which took out the Megami, but Seto turned over his Trap Hole, banishing the Summoned Skull back to the shadows. Then Seto called Swordstalker, which destroyed the Curse of Dragon and gnawed at the king's life force. Gritting his teeth, the king called upon the Red-Eyes Black Dragon, but Seto activated a Negate Attack spell, and his Swordstalker came through intact. Seto then cast Dark Energy, and equipped his monster with the Sword of Dark Destruction, and the Red Eyes fell.

One must take into account this is the most primitive of descriptions. No words can really describe the smell of burning, the sound of the monsters' battle cries, the shear intensity with which duels were conducted. Each man had his life on the line, and every time you took a hit you got weaker, and weaker, until the loser lost his hold altogether and fell into the gates of darkness, never to return. When a monster attacked you heard the steel, you saw the carnage, when magic was invoked you saw the fabric of reality shift as the spells took shape, when traps were activated you saw the struggles of the doomed creature.

Yes, the description above is very bare bones indeed, but if I even attempted to describe the indescribable I should waste far too much f your valuable time, as well as making a mockery of my feeble literary skills. Instead I shall, how do you say it…"Cut to the chase."

Eventually the duel seemed to be almost over. Seto had almost no life force left, and no monsters strong enough to protect him from Pharaoh's legendary Dark Magician. The king also had a Sword Arm of Dragon on the field in attack mode, left over from a few previous turns.

The king was starting to relax. Unless Seto could come up with a monster strong enough to defeat the Dark Magician (and the pharaoh had exclusive privilege to all monsters above that level) Seto would leave his lifeforce open and the king would win. "The end is at hand, young peasant. You lack the strength to defeat me, although you have put up a very good fight. I will confess; this is one of the most thrilling duels I have ever played."

Set did something very strange. He chuckled. If you could even call it a chuckle, there was so much oily malice in it. "You think I you've won because you toasted some small monsters? I haven't even gotten started yet."

"What are you talking about, boy?"

Seto's stern blue eyes turned as hard and cold as ice. "Boy…I haven't been that since I passed the test to become high priest two years ago. You know, old man, about the rite to become high priest? No? Well, I'll tell you. Any attempting to ascend to the position is sent to the Shadow Realm. Trapped in the nightmare of unreality, shifting shadows that defy all reason, somehow one must keep enough wits about them to sense, for a shadow creature, find it, vanquish it, chain it to one's will. Then, in a superhuman feet, one must somehow cling to the monster's energy, ride it, until at last it carries them back to the mortal world. A task few have the courage to attempt, and still I cannot tell you how many of those who did try have failed and died in the attempt. But I did it, at age twelve. I doubt you can claim to have done something equal. And that rite is going to be your downfall."

"What are you talking about?"

"I want to show you the beast I called from the shadows; the strongest ever to be harnessed by a lone boy. The monster sent from the gods as sign of their favor, as proof that nothing shall ever stand in my way!" He threw his arms skyward. "Behold! The Blue-Eyes White Dragon!"

The dueling stone rose from the floor. The stone engraving faltered, quivered, and breathed as the door to shadows was opened and an enormous white beast suddenly towered over everyone. Shining like the moon, its blue eyes seemed a fire, burning from within, not unlike Seto's own.

 The Pharaoh could not believe what he saw.

"Blue-Eyes White Dragon," snarled Seto, his blue priest's cloak flaring out behind him in the magical winds. "Attack with White Lightning!"

The beast let out a roar that filled the air. A sphere of white light flew from its mouth as it rained destruction on the Pharaoh's Sword Arm of Dragon, extinguishing the last of the Pharaoh's life force.

 The Pharaoh cried out as he left his soul leaving, sucked towards the shadowy gates that suddenly yawned before him…

His wife was suddenly beside him, a wraith as her soul also was pulled to the opening. She looked at him desperately. "Our son!"

The king understood. Even now he was still Pharaoh, and he held the right to wield all the powers of darkness…in his last moments, he made one wish with all his soul…and his wife beside him, adding her wish to his…

Seto was laughing, victory was at last his.

"At last! I present my claim to the throne of Egypt! All bow before the new Pharaoh!"

"No."

Seto started. He looked around quickly to see who had spoken.

The Dark Magician. He stood there on the battle floor, like he had during the duel. Seto had not attacked him, because it was the Sword Arm of Dragon that would annihilate the king's -- former king's-- life. It had it's arms crossed, and was glaring at him with those unholy eyes.

"You have no right to the throne of the Two Lands."

"Wha-What? You're a duel monster, how can you…"

"Hail, the new King of Egypt." he said, raising his staff high, then striking it down again, the magic shockwaves filling the air. Seto's Blue-Eyes shrieked and retreated back into the darkness…

The young Prince, the lightning crown on his brow vivid, his fierce violet eyes bright from unshed tears of anger and grief. He raised his hand and pointed at Seto with two fingers, passion making his voice resonate around the stone dueling arena.  

"I shall make you pay Seto Sutekh-Sokar, for what you have done to my family, what you have tried to do to my kingdom. By the secret name of Ra, I swear it!"

Seto was momentarily too surprised to speak.

The Dark Magician went over to the Prince, looked at him for a moment, and sank to one knee. "I answer only to the true Pharaoh," he said, "and so are you coroneted."

He never spoke again.

The new Pharaoh glared a challenge. "It's time to duel!"

The duel was one not to be forgotten. Seto relied heavily on his Blue-Eyes White Dragon, which was stronger then anyone had imagined, but the Pharaoh dueled with a skill that came directly from the gods. His traps and spells, combined with his monsters and his genius, carried him to victory. Seto Sutekh-Sokar screamed as his life faded away, the dark gates of the shadow realm opening before his eyes…

For a moment he could still see the new king, standing before the swirling vortex that was rapidly engulfing him, but he was not going to beg…He was the youngest High Priest ever, and he would never bow to anyone…

"It's true, isn't it?" said the king. "Your pride was such that could not stand being second to anyone, not even your king. The powers of darkness allow me to see into your heart Seto Sutekh-Sokar. Your heart is full of malice and bravado, toying with your opponents, torture and utter lack of mercy."

Striking out in his anger Seto cried, "You're pretty unmerciful yourself, delaying what I know is coming! Just get it over with!"

The Pharaoh paused for a moment. On his brow, the Eye of the Thousand Years glowed. "You shall return from the darkness, Seto! You have done it once before, although this time it will be much harder. But you will make it back, and maybe this time the visions in the shadows will show you something other then cruelty and thirst for power." He raised his hand and pointed with two fingers. Seto clenched his teeth as his heart was torn asunder and his soul cast deep into the realm of shadows.

It was true that he would come back. And when he did, he had two new Blue-Eyes White Dragons harnessed to his will, and a hole in his heart where the prince had torn out the darkness that had burrowed there, like a parasite. Deprived of the imperviousness that being full of darkness gave him, Seto resented the new pharaoh, and cursed him for what he had been through. However, the people who worked with the young High Priest noticed that he took no more pleasure in tormenting his opponents.     

So began the reign of the King of Games.

He was ten.

(End Chapter 5)