You might recognize me by the name Yami. The 'author' of "Darkworld", has
used the name several times because my real name is not nearly as romantic
sounding; made of a series of ancient Egyptian syllables considered
nonsense in your language.
But this time, I am not asking her to tell the tale. This story is mine, and mine alone.
Whether you believe it or dismiss it as fiction, among the sea of fictions around you; that is your choice completely.
My name is Yami. And I come to tell you my tale. One that began three thousand years ago and would, ironically, make you doubt me even more.
*******************************************
We are a world that lies like a shadow inside your own. We come out only at night. We can dominate, betray, attack, and love within our self-maintained society.
the only restriction is that our world cannot be discovered by humans
because the humans would do anything to destroy us
for we are against the will of
God
*****************************************
The Pharaoh's Tale (Part 1 of 2)
"You may not." He glared at me with his stern ruby eyes. "I command you to stay here."
Father was being a prick again. Ever since my birth I have been confined within the palace walls. As big as the palace may be; as nice as the people are inside; it is not enough for me. I want to see what lay beyond.
"Just once?" I begged again, knowing that it wouldn't make a difference.
Father said nothing. As Pharaoh, his power of authority was overwhelming; as my father, he was just as authoritative. But he was right. He had just reason to keep me confined within the palace. It was our curse, the curse of the royal family.
We are hunters. We drink blood from the innocent in order to sustain our own lives. We are virtually immortal if not exposed to Ra's piercing light or those of Ra's kindred; fire.
Father always carried out his conquests when Ra disappeared over the horizon and Nut claimed the skies with her dark veil. As Pharaoh, he needed to retain the loyalty and trust of his followers. He had to convince them that his avoidance for sunlight and appearances at nightfall had reason. And what could be a better reason than to explain that he was on a conquest to destroy demons, since demons appeared only at night? Yes, my father was lofty. He was not only preserving the royal secrecy but also 'saving' his people from the demons. They praised my father and his conquests.
Father ignored my last pleading looks before heading towards the palace doors. A pair of sturdy guards stood attentive on either side of the barred entrance. "Stay here, Yami. Don't do anything rash. When you succeed me as Pharaoh, you will have your handful of duties. But now, you should wait. Patience is also a part of growing up."
I fumed as my father passed regally through the now-open palace doors and out the gates to the outside world. I knew he treasured me, even more so after my mother's death, but he treated me like an infant! It was ridiculous - I was already at twelve years of age.
How long did my father expect to keep me inside this Ra-forsaken palace? My only opportunity for a chance at freedom had made its exit with my father and his elite army of loyal followers.
There was always a last resort. I had stayed away from this option since it involved begging, pleading, and a greater exertion of mental prowess than I could spare, especially after bargaining with my father. And even if I managed to get away with it, I would still be in big trouble if I were caught.
Sometimes, the most exhilarating things are the illicit ones.
************************************************
"I cannot approve of that, young prince. What did your father say?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes. This was the Priest-in-training Mahaado's typical response after almost anything I proposed. Yesternight I wanted to dye my hair with a powder-blue substance that most women use as facial make-up, though Mahaado was quick to reject that proposal too. I have never met anyone his age, barely a few years older than mine that could be so methodical.
"Please Mahaado?" I whined, knowing all to well that I sounded childish and immature for my years. "No one will know if I go out for just a couple of minutes."
"I cannot-"
"But I'm hungry!" I protested, "and there's nothing to eat here." I began to sulk in my typical spoiled brat-like attitude.
Mahaado fell silent. I knew he was contemplating things, weighing the lesser of the two consequences with his conscience. It was no secret to him the royal family's true nature of 'hunger', since he too was one of us, though not as powerful as any of the Royal Family. He knew I could not harm any normal human working in the palace in my father's absence, for fear of arousing suspicion.
"Fine." The priest-in-training nodded stiffly, as if burdened with a load beyond his sixteen or so odd years. "I shall escort you outside."
I gave my best exasperated sigh. "Honestly, Mahaado, do you think I need an escort to hunt with? I'm not _that_ young and I can take care of myself. Besides, if you keep on babying me like that, how am I supposed to learn the roles and responsibilities of being the future Pharaoh?"
At last defeated, Mahaado gave a weak nod. Strands of his deep-violet hair escaped the plain cloth headdress he donned on his head. "Very well, young prince. I shall give you exactly ten candleflickers [1] to nourish yourself and come back. Do not stray too far outside the palace, and make sure you inform one of the guards monitoring the gate of your departure."
"Yes, Mahaado," I intoned dully. Inside, my heart was clamouring. A priest, even a priest-in-training, was allowed permission to access all the gates of the palace. I would be free to see everyone outside the palace walls. I grinned smugly. I had surpassed my father's almighty instructions of confinement.
Bare seconds later, I was out the palace door, tasting the first breaths of freedom.
***************************************************
The desert night air was cooler than I had expected, and I spent a few minutes just staring in awe at the deep blue sky and single glowing face of the moon above. I felt like I was gazing into an intricate tapestry, alive with reeling senses and sounds. I could taste the acrid desert air, and feel it brush against my skin in tingling tremours. I heard the rustle and sway of trees, free from any coddling hand, growing tall and proudly amongst the desert sand.
I laughed and heard my voice echo in the vast empty landscape. I had distanced myself as far from the palace as possible so that it appeared only a vague, glittering beetle in the distance. Then, with exhilaration, I shoved my feet into the cool white sands and propelled myself into the infinite distance, enjoying the feel of chill, live wind brushing against my hair and the individual grains of sand burying between my toes.
I felt like a bird escaping from its eternal cage. Just then, running and laughing in the Egyptian desert sands, I would have forsaken my immortality, my essence, just to experience the freedom. I could not imagine how much I would give to see Ra's light unveiled within the same freedom.
A light I had only heard but never seen.
A sudden shadow blotted out the pale moonlight. I winced as a cacophonous symphony of cries resounded over my head, looking up just to catch the sight of what seemed like a cloud of feathered beings. They appeared almost human, arms stretching into long wings, feet clawed and scaled, tapered into talons. Multicoloured feathers perforated their skin, melding with their equally flamboyant clothing.
I felt a dull rumble behind me. Looking back, I saw a gigantic cloud of yellow sand bearing a sea of warriors riding large, powerful horses. My heart plummeted. Riding in the very front of the assault, eyes fixated on the bird-creatures flying madly in the air, was none other than my father. The Pharaoh.
I forced my legs to move even before I regained my wits. Digging my heels through the soft desert sand in hasty effort, I ran as far as possible away from the dustcloud of father and horses. My actions were too slow; I knew he would immediately spot me at this rate. In a last-minute scrabble of wits, I threw myself down onto the ground, flattening myself as much as possible. The thunderous roars passed by me, and all I could hear for the longest time were the neighs of the horses, the grunts of the warriors, my father's commands, and the shrill screeching of the bird-human creatures.
The roars, screeches, and cries continued. I lay still, breath coming in short loud gasps. The once-gentle sand grated against my skin. I jerked, surprised, as the shaft of an arrow flit past me, burrowing harmlessly behind me into the desert sand. The soft whispers of arrows being drawn and released accompanied the ear-wrenching cries of those who suffered their attacks.
I kept my head down, but when the screeches and roars did not diminish and grew louder, I was tempted to see exactly what was going on. I wanted to see my father in action.
There he was, riding on his beautiful white stallion, powerful arms cradling a bow and drawn arrow. With an almost effortless shrug, he released the shaft, watching it plunge straight into the heart of its target before fetching another shaft from his sack. All of them, father and his warriors, looked so brave and valiant fighting the strange bird-humans, that I felt my blood fill with adrenaline and lusted to be by their side, drawing arrows, watching in satisfaction as my targets shrieked horribly and fell.
A brilliant stream of colours suddenly flashed by my vision. I blinked before I realized what had happened; one of the bird-humans had fallen right in front of me. I lay there, unmoving, as the creature flopped and gasped horribly, eyes bulging, lips opening and closing wordlessly. A bubble of foam-pink dribbled down its chin, and its clawed fingers grasped vainly at an arrow protruding from its chest. As I stared, transfixed and horrified at the same time, the bird-creature stopped, noticing my presence. It glared at me with hate-filled ruby eyes, the unexpectedly human face contorted in a snarl of rage. I thought the creature would leap at me in anger and my muscles tensed, adrenaline pumping, ready for the onslaught.
The bird-creature's amber irises lolled to the top, whites of its eyes flashing before it fell lifelessly onto the ground in a heap of flesh and feathers. Blood dribbled down from the arrow still stuck in its chest, snaking a path across the desert sand.
My blood-lust was aroused momentarily at the sight, but I was too repulsed to obey it. The reek of blood was too strong around me; not just amongst the carcasses of the bird-humans, but also from my father's army, his comrades, some lying half-dead on the sand, moaning profusely in pain, various organs ripped from their bodies.
It was then that I realized why father's elite army hunted only at night. They were as powerful and immortal as any of the Royal Family, bound to serve the darkness forever. How my father had manipulated them, how he had manipulated Mahaado's lineage I was reluctant to understand. All I realized then was that there were many of us, blood-drinkers and night- hunters. The Royal Army was a multitude of demons!
I could have laughed at the irony - demons fighting demons - but I quickly sobered. I was born into the cursed lineage and thus I was no better. I could become no better than my father; and as much as I denied it, I knew one day that I too would seduce younglings and half-adults to join my army and create another camaraderie of demons.
The truth stunned me. My own revelation made my blood run cold. If the humans whom my father ruled ever found out about this.
I was up and running before I could stop myself. They were winning, my father and his army of night-hunters. My feet were pounding aimlessly across the piles of slain and injured bodies, scarlet collecting on my heels. I ran, mind whirling, ignoring the surprised shout of a familiar voice. My form was weaponless and bare against this clashing army, this desert of carnage.
There was an awful chorus of shrieks, and I looked up just in time to catch another bushel of feathers. Instead of plummeting, the bird-human pumped its wings in a powerful sweep downwards, barely rising above my figure. I realized too late what was happening as a pair of icy, scaled talons suddenly grabbed my bare shoulders and jerked upwards. The creature was trying to pull me into the air!
Another bird-human joined the assault, talons clawing and gouging into my skin, leaving bloody scratches on my once-ivory shoulders and arms. I knew I had been foolish. I had plunged myself deep into the enemy ranks in my confusion. There was no way for my father to reach me without suffering a livid counterattack, and the arrows' limited range only heightened his anger and frustration. Even my furious struggles did nothing to qualm the onslaught - there were simply too many of them around me.
I could hear my father's enraged snarls even as I was hauled into the air, rising in the middle of a whirlwind of feathers, claws and shrieks to a dizzying height. I whimpered in remorse, wondering if father was upset and angry with me. Yet, I was already too far up to hear him, borne by the raucous bird-humans high into the night sky, wind whipping dangerously around my helpless, swaying figure. The group of bird-humans that had cluttered around me thinned out, rejoining the battle fray. I was a lead weight carried by a single bird-human, its talons clamped painfully onto my arms to keep me in the air.
I briefly wondered where it was taking me. Most likely as a hostage to be used as leverage. If I left the bird-humans to their devious schemes, I would become a source of grief for my father and the entire kingdom of Egypt.
I reacted spontaneously. Shifting my weight to one side, I forced my left arm lower until my face was level with one of the bird-human's scaly ankles. I twisted my head to one side and plunged my teeth straight into the creature's foul skin.
The bird-human screeched and thrashed furiously, releasing its hold on one of my arms in an attempt to use its talons to bat away my head. I quickly pulled my mouth away from the foul creature and jerked my body to one side. Caught completely off balance, the bird-human screeched and flapped awkwardly as the both of us descended rapidly. Just before hitting the ground, I wrenched my trapped arm free and fell onto the sandy desert ground meters away from the bird-human.
Slowly, painfully, I picked myself up from the ground. I heard a rustle of feathers; the bird-human had also gotten back onto its feet. I turned to face its burning orange eyes, eyes that looked like unfiltered starbursts, and for a single moment, I saw it not as a hideous creature that sought to kidnap and kill me but something exotic and beautiful. The creature was absolutely stunning in its deviation, wings fanning out like a trophy peacock.
It hissed angrily at me and I felt no revulsion. I no longer had the will to fight it.
The bird-human advanced towards me, arms fanned out, finger talons ready to gouge and claw at my face. Its eyes flashed with anger and deep hatred.
I saw it run towards me, saw the danger I had put myself in, and did nothing. At least, I thought I did nothing.
A wave of nausea hit me. It was as if, in that split-second frame that the bird-human was charging at me, time had slowed down. The nausea swept through my body, causing me to involuntarily recoil. I shivered, knees collapsing altogether, as all the feeling left my body save a burning sensation within my veins.
There's no possible way for me to explain this. It was as if pure Energy, the very essence thriving in my blood, had pooled into a single concentrated attack. Something was burning, emblazoned on my forehead, because the next moment, all the Energy escaped from it in a horrendous roar of sound and light.
The bird-human gave an awful screech and then was there no longer. It had been wiped out completely. Nothing remained.
Wide-eyed, I stared. With trembling fingers, I felt my forehead but there was nothing. The strange flaring Energy, the nausea, the sheer thrill of power had disappeared the moment the attack had wiped out the bird- creature.
I would have liked to have said that my first experience with Magick, the ancient Magick passed down from my family generation by generation along with our curse, was a profound and self-inspiring experience. Truthfully, all I felt was guilt and shame. I didn't know what I had done.
But I know now. The Magick that courses through the Royal family's blood - it is what makes us demons.
**************************************************
I was hungry beyond description. It had been hours since I had last 'nourished myself' - as Mahaado kindly put it - and the lack of _anything_ warm and pulsating was driving me insane. Even in my half-delirious mind, I could spot the vacant wisps of Ra's boat already rising over the horizon. My heart quailed. My father: he had warned me about the dangers of sunlight.
My eyes burned just staring at the tendrils of light reflecting off the quickly fleeting night sky. I picked up my pace, hungry and desperate. Was this how I would die; starving, left to be incinerated by Ra's flames of judgement? Was I to pay for the actions of my kind?
No. I was alone. I had no one. I belonged to no one.
I did not know if the sudden shadow that loomed over me was real or just an illusion of my delirious, fevered mind. I cannot fully remember if I begged it to help me or if it acted on its own accord. I had given up already, surrendered to Ra's will. I felt my body hit the ground before I blacked out.
****************************************************
Cold water splashed over my face. I grunted, batting at the air in annoyance before snapping my eyes open. I looked about my unfamiliar surroundings . Somehow, I was in a large cave, lying on a pile of straw. Intricate stone beams, much like half-completed obelisks, protruded from above and below the ground at random intervals. Hues of multicoloured light emitted from what seemed like rocks embedded into the roof of the cavern. I could hear the drip-drops of water falling in this large expanse.
There was no one in sight. Yet, if I was alone, who had brought me here? And who had dumped water over me? My throat was searing, and I rubbed it in attempts to soothe the pain. A dull ache was numbing my body, dampening my senses.
I coughed hoarsely. "Hello?" My voice echoed slightly in the cavern.
I was about to try again when I suddenly erupted into a fit of coughs. I clutched my stomach, trying to calm the pangs of hunger. My nerves felt like liquid fire, lungs saturated in pain with each breath I took.
Footsteps were approaching me, but they were dim. All I felt was the lust, the desire for blood, for something to quench the horrible thirst devastating my body.
There were many voices now, high and low, murmuring loudly to each other. Even in my half-comatose state I could hear them whisper disapprovingly at me, tongues clicking in hushed anger.
A deep voice penetrated the mumblings. "Is this the one you found?" It sounded angry.
Another lighter voice responded. "Yes. I had no clue it was one of _them_ though."
I broke into another fit of coughs. Their voices were becoming dim now, barely audible.
"It's dying, you know. Without blood, it will perish." The first of the two voices said it with no trace of sympathy.
A pause and then another rumble of murmurs from the crowd.
Unable to endure the pain, I collapsed to one side, breathing irregularly, eyes blank and wide open like a fish out of water.
"He is my finding so I will deal with him." The second voice silenced the murmurs with its ultimatum. "Now I wish all of you to leave, including you, Elder."
There was a shuffle of feet and then silence. Only a single beating heart remained within the room. I could hear it, smell it, even from here.
A face approached my blurring vision. It appeared completely human, a youth perhaps around the same age as Mahaado. He had neatly cropped brown hair and startling blue eyes, as blue as the purest lapis lazuli.
And skin, a shade darker than mine, though not as tanned as most Egyptians. Skin, with millions of veins underneath, all pulsating at once, with warmth, with life, with-
"Here."
I looked down. He had shoved his forearm by my mouth, palm open. I trembled weakly, fighting all my screaming instincts as I looked into his face for permission. His pure blue eyes reflected no emotion.
At last, unable to control the desire, I summed up the last of my strength and clamped my lips against his forearm, fangs immediately protruding to penetrate his skin.
The sensation was overwhelming. Every one of my dying nerves was being reborn, rusting copper gilded over with gold. The feeling of it dribbling down my chin and coursing into my mouth could have made me cry in absolute reverence. I was being fed the blood of life, the powerful, intoxicating substance that rolled against my tastebuds burning with pleasure. And the taste, so sweet and tangy at the same time, thick and warm - so refined. It tasted nothing like the normal humans I drank from; more like drinking a well-preserved wine.
A tinge of conscience swept through me. I faltered, lost my blood- lust, and quickly pulled away . Exhausted, sated, and soothed again, I looked up gratefully at the blue-eyed figure.
By tasting a person's blood, I could also get a vague sense of who someone was. I knew this figure was not human; though exactly _what_ I did not know.
Silence. The figure looked at his already-healing forearm and then back at me. So cold, his blue eyes.
"Th-thank you," I stammered. I hastily wiped the dribbles of blood from my chin, resisting the urge to lick my hand. "I-"
"I'll make this simple for the both of us." The blue-eyed figure's words were cold and biting. "I rescue you, you obey me. Otherwise, you leave."
I felt like I had been slapped. Here he was, playing the saint and offering me life, only to treat me like shit right afterwards. What game was he playing here? I bit my lip to prevent a retort. "I. don't have anywhere to return to." Well, it was the half-truth anyway. "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it." A part of me couldn't believe that I had been reduced to this.
Incredulousness swept through the figure's expression. It was quickly followed by a detached bemusement, much like the expression of a cat watching its prey squirm. I was unnerved by his stare.
"Then I'll warn you right now. If you think you'll get any more pity from me, then go and cry mountains. I'll slap your ass raw and then laugh about it." The blue-eyed figure shrugged and turned away, losing interest in me.
Stunned by his choice of words, I was tempted to bite back at his comment. He wouldn't really hurt me would he?
I think this was the first time I learned what a literal meaning was.
***********************************************
He called himself Seto. I preferred to remember him as the slave driver, the cold, blue-eyed individual who stared at me every evening with his fixed half-frown. He made me follow him like a ladies' lapdog, sometimes even wearing a collar and leash around my neck to symbolize my inferiority to him.
He laughed at my flimsy means of self-defense and told me to 'fight unrestrained'. In the first few lessons, it meant for me to attempt to charge at him, only to get hurtled backwards by just one of his powerful blows. He wasn't afraid to attack me, to hurt me, damage me, break some of my bones. I remember that I was once so beaten up in a training session that it was only through my fleeting desire to live, to survive this ordeal that I somehow crawled back into my small resting place.
You see, though Seto mocked and laughed and punished me crudely, he was also the only one who offered me his blood. No one else dared to come near me, for fear of being infected with whatever disease my presence would bring, and most stared at me scornfully. The youths, the ones my age, would snicker at me, even without the presence of Seto or the leash.
And yet, I developed a fierce bond with Seto. Perhaps it was a bond enforced only by the blood he gave me, the blood which strengthened me and kept me alive. Perhaps it was a gratuitous bond. In any case, I felt a devotion that was almost attraction towards the cold blue-eyed figure. He hit me and I came back, asking for more.
*****************************************************
"Your name is Yami right?"
I turned at the voice, coming face to face with a youth about my age flanked by a group of his peers.
I forced a polite nod. Seto had long reinforced the meaning of politeness to me.
"Master Seto instructs you, doesn't he?"
The word 'Master' sounded funny with 'Seto', but, after much reasoning, I realized there was no difference. Wasn't the blue-eyed figure my sworn master and I his always dutiful slave? I nodded yet again, not liking where this conversation was going.
The youth guffawed. "I can't believe Master Seto would take someone like _you_. He's legendary among us." The youth's face grew ugly, bitter. "I was the next candidate for his student. And you're not even one of _us_."
I was getting sick of this by now. The same conversation always sprouted up every week, about the 'outcast' creature, about the one who was 'not like them', 'weak', and an 'inexcusable hassle'. I often wondered why they even tolerated my presence. Was it the guilt of knowing that I would die isolated in a desert without sustenance and exposed to fatal sunlight? In this semi-underground cavern, surrounded by warm teeming bodies, I was safe.
I bowed politely. "I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to go." It sounded humble, so unlike my previous royal self, though it was the guise that I had been taught to adopt. I rushed over to one side of the youth, head still bowed low.
The other grabbed me roughly by the arm. "You're not leaving yet," he hissed angrily in my ear, pulling me forcefully towards the upper hallways. My eyes widened. I never travelled any higher than the middle hallways in fear of sunlight. The other was deliberately trying to drag me outside!
The youth had a nasty grin on his face. He pointed to one of the sunlit exits of the cavern. "I want to see what Master Seto has taught you. That is, if you have enough wits, outcast."
Before I could protest or struggle, the gaggle of youths collected into one mass and proceeded to drag me out. My scream died halfway in my throat as a hand muffled my mouth.
Already, the sunlight was searing my eyes, forcing me to shut them. I could feel its unbearable heat as the group advanced, and I wondered if I could somehow break free, make a dash-
And suddenly I was outside. I cringed, waiting for the pain.
And waited. The thought 'still waiting' occurred in my mind. [2]
At last, I forced my eyes open, staring at the impatient faces glowering at me. The sunlight stung my eyes somewhat, but otherwise, had no effect, save caressing my skin with a soothing warmth. I was utterly confounded.
The original youth glared at me as if I had just discovered to count my toes. "You took Seto's blood, didn't you? Drinking blood from any of our kind, even if you were only mortal, does have potent effects. One of them is an immunity to flames."
I was still rendered speechless. A part of my mind was yammering about the sunlight, about seeing Ra's face for the first time, about a million wonders of gazing at a spectacle in _daylight_. Yet, the most predominant thought in my mind was a question. _What_ exactly were they - Seto, this youth, all of them in this dwelling?
The others had begun to form a circle around the first youth and me. I looked around nervously but there were no pity in their faces. The first youth grinned back at me confidently. "It is quite common for two students training under different Masters to challenge each other to duels [3] involving any form of physical or Energy-induced attack. The winner is the first one to draw blood on his opponent."
I had never heard about such a thing. The sheer idea of a battle between two youths like us appalled me, even though I had endured more than my share of pain with Seto. It just felt. wrong for me to attack anyone for fun. I didn't see any pleasure in killing or hurting anyone.
Ah, but who was I fooling? Am I not the natural killer, the _blood-sucker_ who must hurt or take the lives of others to live? How horrendous, and ironic at the same time.
I felt myself nodding mutely.
And then, even before I was ready, he attacked.
I narrowly missed his extended fist, falling on one knee to avoid the blow before hastily shuffling backwards. All of Seto's training tips meticulously drilled into my mind guided my actions, allowing me to dodge and retaliate to all of my opponent's offensive attacks without suffering any damage.
A thought occurred to me. How exactly did we draw blood without weapons?
Unfortunately, the thought caused me to lose my concentration, and I was slapped painfully on the chest, my butt hitting the ground hard. Cheeks flushed with humiliation even before the chorus of laughter rang out around me, I sprung to my feet, tapping into my vampiric reflexes to pinpoint every single twist of my opponent's motion. Muscles coiled with anticipation, I waited for my opponent to begin lunging at me once again before I moved as quickly as possible, darting underneath my opponent's outstretched arm and behind him. Immediately I wrapped my arm around my opponent's neck and twisted his other free arm behind him in the awkward angle Seto had shown - or rather, demonstrated - to me.
Elevated by the rapture of the battle, I firmly held my opponent's struggling frame and leaned my head closer to him, head by his ears.
"So," I whispered, soft enough only for him to hear, "I have to draw blood to win?" A wicked thought occurred in my mind, and I brushed my lips on his prone neck, deliberately letting my fangs touch his skin. "I wonder what you taste like?"
The response was immediate. The youth snarled and shoved me forcefully away, staring at me with wild green eyes. He spat at my stunned figure. "You bastard," he hissed. "_Demon_."
The others joined in with the youth's chants, screaming obscenities in my ears. My opponent hushed them with a dismissive wave of his hand. He grinned, rather mischievously. "You might be clever, _demon_, with your little tricks. But you see, we are the masters of all that live. Our species are above the filth of your kind."
And before I could even ask exactly what his kind was, he decided to show me.
The boy's figure began to grow and stretch, distorting into what seemed like a horrific mess of spines and limbs. Slowly, they began to tighten and rearrange themselves, skin darkening and forming millions upon millions of fine scales. Large, leathered wings shot from his back, unfolding in crooked snaps.
My heartbeat quickened tenfold. Staring back at me was no longer a human youth but a _dragon_.
It was easily ten feet high, a shade of pure green. It twisted its triangular head, beady eyes staring straight at me. I could see the layers of serrated teeth hiding within the creature's half-open jaw.
They were all _dragons_? Was that why they stared at me scornfully? Because I could never be one of them, never be as powerful or understand what it meant to shape-shift into something else?
Even in this moment of fear, of understanding the potential danger between what was a petty jealously, I couldn't help but be curious. Were they humans able to adopt the form of dragons or dragons able to become humans? Or had the integration become so complete that it no longer mattered?
The dragon, my opponent, screeched a defiant cry at me before snapping its wings fully open, bringing them forcefully downwards several times to rise into the air. I was overwhelmed just by the wing power of this creature. How I was expected to defeat it was beyond me - my primary concern was for my safety.
The creature flapped its wings before making a tight dive for me. Unsure where to expect the aerial assault, I could only hunch my frame and make myself a smaller target for the large creature. Unfortunately, one of the dragon's hind claws caught my tunic, snagging me effortlessly into the air. Again I was overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu, of the bird-humans stowing me away while my father stared at me in a mixture of anger and frustration.
Even as I hung there helplessly and tried to figure a way to get myself back onto the ground without killing myself in the process, I couldn't help but notice how _no one bothered to help me_. I really was the outcast; the demon; the one not fit to be part of this clan. I could have cried.
My opponent did not hesitate before flexing its wings, wriggling its legs in attempts to dislodge me. My shirt was immediately unhooked, and I felt myself falling. Falling from this height, I knew I would die.
I closed my eyes as a deep wave of nausea washed through me. I dismissed it for vertigo and braced myself for the impact.
Time began to distort. My descent seemed to slow down until I was floating. A rush of power began to collect within my veins and my head throbbed, forehead burning with energy. However, this time, instead of escaping from me in an offensive burst of power, the energy spread across my spine and collected there. The energy, the Magick, began to fuse with my very structure, my tissues and bones, moulding them to its will.
As time re-enacted itself and I began to fall again, I felt a shudder of air, a release of power, and then, I was no longer falling. Attached to my shoulder blades was a pair of pure ebony wings. They seemed to dance with a life of their own, manipulating the air to hold me up. And yet, they conceded to my conscious efforts to move them. The Magick coursing through my blood was far from finished. It fed me energy but it also burned with anger.
Snarling, I sped into the sky in quick wing beats, catching up with the altitude of my opponent. Though I was twice as small as the other's dragon- shifted form, the ancient Magick coursing through me made me confident, almost arrogant.
As I concentrated my Magick into an attack, I felt my hatred for my opponent, growing, climaxing into an intolerable rage. I wanted to maim him, rip him apart, tear and indulge in his insides, peel his skin and lick the flesh underneath, twist off the bones and-
I blinked as I realized that my opponent was no longer in the air. In my fury and heat of battle, I had unleashed my attack without control over it. I did not even know that I had attacked him.
And yet, he lay on the ground, a crumbled figure, wings pent pitifully. Blood dribbled from his serpentine mouth, and his neck was craned in an awkward position, too awkward to be considered normal.
I descended, letting the Magick, the unquenchable power recede back into me, dormant once more. With the loss of Magick went the hatred and bloodshed. My arms began to tremble, fingers twitching uncontrollably. I looked up, speechless, towards the others, my mouth hanging open trying to form some sort of coherent apology.
Several of the others backed away from me.
A hand suddenly clasped over my shoulder. Startled, I turned around, though I sensed his presence before I saw him.
A pair of cold blue eyes stared back at me, emotionless. "That's enough, Yami."
I bowed, head low. "Yes. master."
********************************************************
Wounds usually heal within time, as years pass by. Eventually, the tension between the green-eyed youth, Taesil, and I eased; we learned fighting tips from each other and a tentative friendship grew from our once- petty rivalry. Encouraged by the act, the other peers of the clan eventually began to accept me. In between lessons with Seto, I learned with them, fought and tousled with them. Even when they assumed their draconic forms to hunt or just fly, I would go amongst them on my Magick-crafted dragon wings.
True, I may not be one of them physically. Yet, as one of the peers kindly put it, I really had taken a place as one of them in heart.
It touched me to know that they accepted me; that I was one of them; that I belonged to somewhere now.
It made me ill prepared for the confrontation ahead.
**************************************************
Someone burst into my resting place, shaking me vigorously by the shoulders. Groggily, I forced my eyes open. A look of urgency was etched in the messenger's eyes.
"Yami. The upper hallway. T-"
I was up and out the exit before I heard his last words. Even as I ran, I could hear the anxious murmurs amongst the others. As I filtered through the crowd gathered on the top floor, I could make out a flicker of emerald green.
I sucked in a harsh breath, and my mind seemed to slow down to a stop.
Lying halfway between the cave entrance and the inside recesses of the hallway was a dragon of scarlet and green. At least, I thought was of a mixed hue until I noticed the way the crimson dribbled down freely across the dragon's back. I smelt the reek of blood everywhere on the creature. And still, my mind refused to acknowledge him.
I stood there, numb, watching the fallen creature with half-closed eyes. A heavy wooden spear still stuck out from the dragon's chest, though both had long stopped moving. The creature's eyes were wide open, clouded in an expression of indignation and surprise.
Someone nudged me; it was one of the Elders. "Yami. Whoever killed Taesil left a mark on him. Seto said you might recognize it."
Numbly, I walked under the Elder's guide. My mind was screaming that it was impossible - how could a _dragon_ be killed? I quivered slightly as the Elder's gnarled hands pointed to the dragon's flank. Etched deeply into the skin, piercing through the scales cleanly was a single, glowing insignia. The blood had long dried, though the marking was clear: a single eye-shaped structure represented by two arching horizontal lines.
The Sennen Eye. The mark of the Royal Family of Egypt and of the Pharaoh.
My face must have blanched. For the next moment, people, both ones I knew and had never met, were pressing against me, asking me who it was, demanding to know what they were up against. Jaws clamped painfully shut, I could only shake my head. Everything was spinning around me.
_They_ were coming; my father and his elite group of hunters, of slayers. I doubted they knew I was here. They had come to destroy everything 'demonic'.
Bitterness overwhelmed me. It was always like that, my father assuming the superior role, an arrogant gleam of confidence set on his face.
No, he was not my father nor mentor. My master was Seto and my kindred the dragons. My blood-father had never taught me anything, always an aloof, distant figure who barely visited me save to reprimand my every actions. No, he was not my father anymore - Seto had been a wiser and closer guardian than my actual one.
The _Pharaoh_ of Egypt was threatening to destroy my clan. That, and nothing else.
The words flowed, full of spite and malice from my tongue. I felt like an oracle, an omen of ill fortune. "The Pharaoh of Egypt is coming. He will attack with his army at nightfall. It is his will that he rids all of Egypt of anything not-human." Excluding himself and his army, of course. Yet, I couldn't admit the truth. I refused to acknowledge the Pharaoh as my father.
Everyone had snapped into full awareness. The news lying fearfully in their hearts had been awakened, spurring both urgency and anger. I stood there, watching everyone rush off, watching several Healers drag the corpse away. The stench of blood was fresh in my mind.
"He's coming, the Pharaoh."
I did not bother to turn around. I had felt Seto's presence near me a while ago.
"What will you say to him? Which way will you fight?"
"I _hate_ him." The words spat angrily from my mouth before I could reign it back in. "I'll go out and destroy him before he can even come close to here."
It never occurred to me exactly how old Seto was. Even among the Elders, the blue-eyed figure seemed older, hiding a deeper and more ancient secret. None of the others spoke about it; though there had been hints of Seto being 'not what he seemed'. It also occurred to me that I had never seen my master's dragon form.
Seto stared at me for a long time. "Brash words, prince of Egypt. Your royal lineage is notorious for its arrogance."
My cheeks burned but I wisely held my tongue. I glared at the blue- eyed figure. I would show him and my entire clan exactly where my loyalty lay and erase their lingering doubts about me.
It never occurred to me exactly how Seto knew my true identity.
********************************************
Midnight arrived too quickly.
We snuck into the half-moonlit desert not on dragon wing as our enemies would have thought, but as seemingly harmless humans.
I walked amongst them, cloak hooded to cover up my prominent hairstyle. I had tried several times to tame my hair, though it seemed to unnaturally jut out no matter what I did to it. Seto walked in the back alone but I could feel the strong aura of his presence, reassuring.
We suddenly stopped. A forerunner had scouted the scene, relaying all actions to us. I caught the message that the Pharaoh was moving at a startling pace on horseback towards the dwelling. We needed to intercept them before they got there.
Our group, about a hundred or so of us, moved quickly. We immediately doubled back, taking a shortcut through the cool desert sands in hopes of catching up to the Pharaoh and his army in time. None of us were foolish enough to expose ourselves in the air; though I knew that arrows were repelled by dragon-hide. Our attack relied purely on the element of surprise.
My nocturnal abilities allowed me to spot them before anyone else. I gazed spitefully at the rising sandcloud in the distance, and I could vaguely hear the rumbling of hooves pounding against the once-silent desert. I informed those next to me, the message travelling quickly until we were all prepared. The younger ones, my friends, were nervous, excited, and edgy. Truthfully, I felt sick, both physically and at heart. I had loathed facing this inevitable battle.
The drumming of hooves grew louder, and we lay low on the desert ground, just like how I had unwittingly done so long ago. I was older now, more experienced, but my past memories still haunted me. I wanted to be rid of them forever.
The pounding was now incredibly close, throbbing by my ears. I forgot who hissed "Now!", if there was such a person, but we were immediately upon the horseback army. I paused just a moment to analyze the scene, watching in half-awe as my dragon-shifted clan tore at the Pharaoh's army like children at a toy fest. Horses and warriors alike scattered in panic, belatedly drawing their weapons. Streams of flame erupted from the dragons' jaws, incinerating enemies alive, creating a massacre of burning flesh and screaming, flailing bodies.
I believed I nearly retched as my eyes tore up the sight. Nevertheless, I plunged into the thicket of the battle, mind set on only one target.
He rode on his pure white stallion, eyes regal and confident even as his scattered lines screamed and fell. With a loud, majestic shout, he signalled for his ranks to collect, gathering them into a ragged line.
I caught the gleam of blackened metal in their arrow shafts and my heart plummeted.
"Get back!" I screamed despite myself, despite the roar of battle and the triumphant cries of the dragons. "Don't get near them!"
It was too late.
I had heard of these weapons a long time ago. They were supposedly infused with Magick, burning with a livid, explosive substance. It was nicknamed 'liquid fire'.
Had it been just fire, the gel-like substance would have collected harmlessly on the dragons' scales and then dissipated. But it was not so benign. I watched helplessly as the Pharaoh's warriors drew arrows of the gleaming substance and launched them into the air. Those whom the substance hit immediately burst into brilliant blue flames, body writhing and screeching in agony.
I was dumbfounded. The sensations of the past, the attack against those bird-humans flashed in my mind. I was briefly struck with a moment of fear, wondering again if the winged beasts would capture me, when everything once again resettled. I _was_ one of them; the Pharaoh was my enemy.
Friends whom I had flown with, others who were too slow to dodge the attacks shrieked piteously as they combusted with unquenchable flames. They sizzled, too bright for my eyes to gaze at, burning flesh and bones alike. Dragons that had once soared majestically in the sky lay twisted and twitching as they were reduced into smouldering ashes before they hit the ground.
I watched, horrified, unable to act.
A sudden behemoth of pure white shot across my vision. I watched, stunned, as the chrome-plated creature spread its large wings the moment another volley of liquid fire hurtled towards the vulnerable dragons. The creature, a dragon unlike one I had ever seen, pivoted its wings and absorbed as much of the attack as possible. The liquid splattered against its plated hide and wings as harmlessly as water.
I knew who the dragon was before it stared at me deliberately with its lapis lazuli-blue eyes. Cold blue eyes wizened and isolated by experience.
The pure white dragon [4] pivoted in mid-air, sweeping its sheath- like wings underneath it before diving towards the ranks of opponents. Its claws gouged the enemy lines, scattering warriors and horses alike. A burst of sizzling, electrical Magick escaped its jaws, creating miniscule explosions in its wake.
And yet, the Pharaoh was unscathed. Deserted by his panicking warriors, yes, but untouched. Seto had left the Pharaoh for me.
I wished I could just stand there and watch. Yet, I would be accused of being the coward, and who was I to shirk from battle when my friends had died selflessly before me? Wasn't I here to avenge my clan?
Taking one last deep breath, I ran towards the still figure of my sole opponent. My feet did not stop until I reached him. I stood in front of his regal figure, looking up at the Pharaoh and his white stallion.
The Pharaoh inhaled sharply, staring down incredulously at me. He dismounted the stallion. "Yami."
I took a step back as he reached to touch my shoulders. I could feel his eyes, his unchanged face stare at me, almost too approvingly. He was looking at my cold face, my stubborn frown, slightly-tanned skin, and firm muscles. And for a single moment, I wanted no more than to embrace him, cry to him like the lost child I was, explaining what had happened over the years.
The cry of the dragons brought me back to reality. There was no sentimental pity here.
"Pharaoh." I nearly shivered at the icy tone of my own voice. "You come to attack my kindred. I stand in your way."
The Pharaoh looked at me oddly. "I apologize for-"
"-Killing my friends?" I smiled, not too nicely. "Why thank you." The bow I gave him was curt, mocking. Yes, thank you very much for locking me up in the palace for so many years and then abandoning me when I needed you. Bitterness clenched deepest in my heart.
Surprise, then indignation spread across the Pharaoh of Egypt's expression. I could see etched lines of weariness on his otherwise meticulously youthful face; a face as ageless and startlingly similar as my own. We could have passed for brothers. "This is no time for playing games. Just move aside, let us finish, and then I'll explain everything."
I shook my head, almost sadly. "No, you don't need to explain anything, _Pharaoh_. I know what you are up to. I know exactly how you betrayed me."
I wondered if that twisted expression on his face represented hurt or revulsion. My anger-filled mind told me it was the latter. I laughed, mocking him, the two of us isolated from everything else, a separate scene on a separate stage.
"Yami." The Pharaoh was still trying to reason. "I don't want to hurt- "
I interrupted him with a harsh, derisive bark of laughter. "You don't want to what? Hurt me? Tear up my soul and feed it to those harpies you fought? Why, how sentimental of you, how unlike your authoritative self, _Pharaoh_."
I cannot remember if it was he or I who initiated the fight. Suddenly, the two of us were sizing each other up. He carried a trim silver sword while all I had was the weapon Seto had given me years ago, a thin dagger carved out of an intricate wood that glowed with a soft-green sheen.
Both of us bared our weapons at each other, tentative to attack. I moved first, thrusting the dagger sideways and slapping the flat of the blade painfully against my opponent's shoulder. He was quick to react, shifting his sword to one side to pry the dagger loose. Both of us disengaged, looking at each other warily.
I moved, dagger point aimed at my opponent's chest, though it was easily warded off by the sword. Metal clacked against wood. My dagger was unyielding to the harder silver. My hand hummed numbly from the impact.
I felt the Magick before the Pharaoh released the attack. It was the same familiar essence that resided within me. Snarling, I thrust my dagger towards him, but I was repelled by the Magick, the energy throwing me several meters into the air.
Helplessly airborne, I could only call upon my own Magick, letting the wings unfurl from my back to keep me from falling gracelessly. Instead of landing and discarding my wings on the ground, I thrust my wings in mid- air and quickly distanced myself several meters. Quickly discarding them, I fell in perfect timing onto the ground behind my opponent.
The Pharaoh attempted to attack me with another burst of Magick, but I hastily counterbalanced it with the Magick with my own. Both energy- induced attacks collided in a burst of gleaming crimson light and clashing power before dissipating.
My opponent grimaced, readying another blast, but I was already prepared. I grabbed a fistful of the desert sand and thrust it into his face, making him lose concentration as the grainy substance irritated his vision. I then summoned my own recesses of Magick, pooling as much as possible without overtaxing myself.
The sensation came immediately. The insignia was there, burning on my forehead, the energy overwhelming me. With the rush of more potent Magick came the desire to destroy, tear, kill; and this time, I did not push the feeling aside. Instead, I dwelled on the euphoria, veins saturated with power. Before my opponent could recover, I released my own Magick-induced blast of energy, watching it slam like a barrier against him.
He did nothing to block the attack. He did not even construct a shield as the blow hit him full force, sending him plummeting into the air and then painfully back onto the ground.
I quickly sped towards his prone figure. I raised my dagger, watching its eerie green glow collect in the moonlight.
My opponent looked at me, defeated. His sword had been blasted harmlessly away, and he was lying prone on the sand. He did not even bother to struggle.
I gazed at him, full of rage and hatred, the Magick fuelling my body with a carnal desire to destroy. For a moment, the fingers grasping my dagger quivered, a slip of conscience escaping my euphoria, but it was soon banished. The sadistic nature of the Magick residing within me had prevailed again.
The dagger plunged blade-first into my opponent's chest, sinking deep into his pumping heart. I twisted it a few times, listening to the squelch of the blood collecting on his clothing, hearing the thudding of his heart slow down.
I breathed heavily, in spite of my trembling body. Raw emotions roiled within me, venomous, angry, victorious. "So you die, _Pharaoh_."
"Of course, my son." Hands not even straying to touch or remove the dagger, the Pharaoh closed his eyes. A small smile played on his lips.
I wanted to strangle him. He was mocking me. Somehow, he was triumphant, even in death. When sunlight came, his body would burn, twist into miserable ashes and fade away forever. I would never have to see it again.
His eyes stared at me vacantly. Their blank visage, so calm and confident, told me otherwise.
*************************************************
A snake without its head soon loses interest in life. Thus, the remainder of the Pharaoh's army, the ones who were not slain or left mortally injured, fled. Thus ended the reign of the Pharaoh Akunamukanon. I wondered who would succeed him in throne. Perhaps a human, ready to explain how Egypt had been possessed by a demon and would now prosper again under mortal blood? The secret, the truth, would be quickly revealed.
Daylight had come again. I watched as the golden disc of Ra spread over the littered bodies, withering and then disintegrating the slain members of the Pharaoh's army. I watched the Pharaoh's regal face loose its handsome beauty, shrivelling up into a gross, contorted mask before drying up completely and crackling into fine dust. Dust that could not be distinguished from the millions upon billions of grains of desert sand.
Seto was standing behind me again, indifferent but solemn. My clan, my kind, were picking up the fallen dragon bodies and carrying them away in a silent, mournful procession.
My mind was numb and my chest ached painfully.
"So they're gone. The battle is over."
I nodded mutely. Something wet was collecting on my eyes, and I hastily wiped it away with my blood-stained hand.
"The Pharaoh Akunamukanon." Seto shrugged at the name. "He has ruled Egypt for a long time. Once, before this fated conflict occurred, I dared to fight him. It was before his conquest to destroy all 'demons', and he spared my life by teaching me a lesson."
I glanced sharply at Seto. The blue-eyed figure unclasped his tarnished cloak and craned his head to one side. Emblazoned on the side of his bare neck was a red marking, consisting of two symmetrical curves joined to form an eye-like pattern. The Sennen Eye had been carved crudely onto his skin like a tattoo.
I wondered, annoyed, why Seto was showing me this; what kind of irony lay in his words. It clicked.
Even with Magick, I doubted I could defeat Seto. And for the late Pharaoh to be able to defeat Seto - his power would have been out of my league. If he had had the will to fight...
But he didn't. He had ruled for a long time.
The Pharaoh, my _father_ had deliberately let me win because he knew it was his time. He knew that, though immortal, he would be succeeded by another.
You see, though a human would seize the mortal throne of Egypt, the immortal throne, passed through my ancestors, still resided in my blood. I was the Pharaoh of the night-hunters, of the handful left scattered in the world. I wondered if they knew; if they would hate me for it, for betraying their kind.
We, mortals and immortals alike, have an innate desire to be special, unique, immune to the spiteful properties of life. How vicious, how proud I had been in that moment when I had triumphed over my father and gained false vengeance.
And now that the gross reality hit me, I realized exactly how distorted my false emotions and illusions had been. The hurricane of reality, of life, was at last sucking me in.
Amazing how life can change with just one sentence, one truth.
I believe I cried then. I fell on my knees onto the sandy ground and wept bitterly, because I was overwhelmed, because I had deceived myself, because I could not fully understand what I had done. I sobbed like a mewling kitten without dignity or self-restraint as the hot desert air pounded my face and the sun god Ra stared mutely at me with its disc-like visage.
I don't need truths in my life. I only wish for the wisdom to realize them.
End Part 1
*******************************************************
End notes:
[1] Units of time back in my youth.
[2] A quote Zoo told me was appropriate for the moment.
[3] I do realize that they now have cards called 'Duel Monsters', though that is not to be mistaken with these duels
[4] Apparently, some people argue that the Blue Eyes White Dragon is a female. I assure you that Seto is very male.
But this time, I am not asking her to tell the tale. This story is mine, and mine alone.
Whether you believe it or dismiss it as fiction, among the sea of fictions around you; that is your choice completely.
My name is Yami. And I come to tell you my tale. One that began three thousand years ago and would, ironically, make you doubt me even more.
*******************************************
We are a world that lies like a shadow inside your own. We come out only at night. We can dominate, betray, attack, and love within our self-maintained society.
the only restriction is that our world cannot be discovered by humans
because the humans would do anything to destroy us
for we are against the will of
God
*****************************************
The Pharaoh's Tale (Part 1 of 2)
"You may not." He glared at me with his stern ruby eyes. "I command you to stay here."
Father was being a prick again. Ever since my birth I have been confined within the palace walls. As big as the palace may be; as nice as the people are inside; it is not enough for me. I want to see what lay beyond.
"Just once?" I begged again, knowing that it wouldn't make a difference.
Father said nothing. As Pharaoh, his power of authority was overwhelming; as my father, he was just as authoritative. But he was right. He had just reason to keep me confined within the palace. It was our curse, the curse of the royal family.
We are hunters. We drink blood from the innocent in order to sustain our own lives. We are virtually immortal if not exposed to Ra's piercing light or those of Ra's kindred; fire.
Father always carried out his conquests when Ra disappeared over the horizon and Nut claimed the skies with her dark veil. As Pharaoh, he needed to retain the loyalty and trust of his followers. He had to convince them that his avoidance for sunlight and appearances at nightfall had reason. And what could be a better reason than to explain that he was on a conquest to destroy demons, since demons appeared only at night? Yes, my father was lofty. He was not only preserving the royal secrecy but also 'saving' his people from the demons. They praised my father and his conquests.
Father ignored my last pleading looks before heading towards the palace doors. A pair of sturdy guards stood attentive on either side of the barred entrance. "Stay here, Yami. Don't do anything rash. When you succeed me as Pharaoh, you will have your handful of duties. But now, you should wait. Patience is also a part of growing up."
I fumed as my father passed regally through the now-open palace doors and out the gates to the outside world. I knew he treasured me, even more so after my mother's death, but he treated me like an infant! It was ridiculous - I was already at twelve years of age.
How long did my father expect to keep me inside this Ra-forsaken palace? My only opportunity for a chance at freedom had made its exit with my father and his elite army of loyal followers.
There was always a last resort. I had stayed away from this option since it involved begging, pleading, and a greater exertion of mental prowess than I could spare, especially after bargaining with my father. And even if I managed to get away with it, I would still be in big trouble if I were caught.
Sometimes, the most exhilarating things are the illicit ones.
************************************************
"I cannot approve of that, young prince. What did your father say?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes. This was the Priest-in-training Mahaado's typical response after almost anything I proposed. Yesternight I wanted to dye my hair with a powder-blue substance that most women use as facial make-up, though Mahaado was quick to reject that proposal too. I have never met anyone his age, barely a few years older than mine that could be so methodical.
"Please Mahaado?" I whined, knowing all to well that I sounded childish and immature for my years. "No one will know if I go out for just a couple of minutes."
"I cannot-"
"But I'm hungry!" I protested, "and there's nothing to eat here." I began to sulk in my typical spoiled brat-like attitude.
Mahaado fell silent. I knew he was contemplating things, weighing the lesser of the two consequences with his conscience. It was no secret to him the royal family's true nature of 'hunger', since he too was one of us, though not as powerful as any of the Royal Family. He knew I could not harm any normal human working in the palace in my father's absence, for fear of arousing suspicion.
"Fine." The priest-in-training nodded stiffly, as if burdened with a load beyond his sixteen or so odd years. "I shall escort you outside."
I gave my best exasperated sigh. "Honestly, Mahaado, do you think I need an escort to hunt with? I'm not _that_ young and I can take care of myself. Besides, if you keep on babying me like that, how am I supposed to learn the roles and responsibilities of being the future Pharaoh?"
At last defeated, Mahaado gave a weak nod. Strands of his deep-violet hair escaped the plain cloth headdress he donned on his head. "Very well, young prince. I shall give you exactly ten candleflickers [1] to nourish yourself and come back. Do not stray too far outside the palace, and make sure you inform one of the guards monitoring the gate of your departure."
"Yes, Mahaado," I intoned dully. Inside, my heart was clamouring. A priest, even a priest-in-training, was allowed permission to access all the gates of the palace. I would be free to see everyone outside the palace walls. I grinned smugly. I had surpassed my father's almighty instructions of confinement.
Bare seconds later, I was out the palace door, tasting the first breaths of freedom.
***************************************************
The desert night air was cooler than I had expected, and I spent a few minutes just staring in awe at the deep blue sky and single glowing face of the moon above. I felt like I was gazing into an intricate tapestry, alive with reeling senses and sounds. I could taste the acrid desert air, and feel it brush against my skin in tingling tremours. I heard the rustle and sway of trees, free from any coddling hand, growing tall and proudly amongst the desert sand.
I laughed and heard my voice echo in the vast empty landscape. I had distanced myself as far from the palace as possible so that it appeared only a vague, glittering beetle in the distance. Then, with exhilaration, I shoved my feet into the cool white sands and propelled myself into the infinite distance, enjoying the feel of chill, live wind brushing against my hair and the individual grains of sand burying between my toes.
I felt like a bird escaping from its eternal cage. Just then, running and laughing in the Egyptian desert sands, I would have forsaken my immortality, my essence, just to experience the freedom. I could not imagine how much I would give to see Ra's light unveiled within the same freedom.
A light I had only heard but never seen.
A sudden shadow blotted out the pale moonlight. I winced as a cacophonous symphony of cries resounded over my head, looking up just to catch the sight of what seemed like a cloud of feathered beings. They appeared almost human, arms stretching into long wings, feet clawed and scaled, tapered into talons. Multicoloured feathers perforated their skin, melding with their equally flamboyant clothing.
I felt a dull rumble behind me. Looking back, I saw a gigantic cloud of yellow sand bearing a sea of warriors riding large, powerful horses. My heart plummeted. Riding in the very front of the assault, eyes fixated on the bird-creatures flying madly in the air, was none other than my father. The Pharaoh.
I forced my legs to move even before I regained my wits. Digging my heels through the soft desert sand in hasty effort, I ran as far as possible away from the dustcloud of father and horses. My actions were too slow; I knew he would immediately spot me at this rate. In a last-minute scrabble of wits, I threw myself down onto the ground, flattening myself as much as possible. The thunderous roars passed by me, and all I could hear for the longest time were the neighs of the horses, the grunts of the warriors, my father's commands, and the shrill screeching of the bird-human creatures.
The roars, screeches, and cries continued. I lay still, breath coming in short loud gasps. The once-gentle sand grated against my skin. I jerked, surprised, as the shaft of an arrow flit past me, burrowing harmlessly behind me into the desert sand. The soft whispers of arrows being drawn and released accompanied the ear-wrenching cries of those who suffered their attacks.
I kept my head down, but when the screeches and roars did not diminish and grew louder, I was tempted to see exactly what was going on. I wanted to see my father in action.
There he was, riding on his beautiful white stallion, powerful arms cradling a bow and drawn arrow. With an almost effortless shrug, he released the shaft, watching it plunge straight into the heart of its target before fetching another shaft from his sack. All of them, father and his warriors, looked so brave and valiant fighting the strange bird-humans, that I felt my blood fill with adrenaline and lusted to be by their side, drawing arrows, watching in satisfaction as my targets shrieked horribly and fell.
A brilliant stream of colours suddenly flashed by my vision. I blinked before I realized what had happened; one of the bird-humans had fallen right in front of me. I lay there, unmoving, as the creature flopped and gasped horribly, eyes bulging, lips opening and closing wordlessly. A bubble of foam-pink dribbled down its chin, and its clawed fingers grasped vainly at an arrow protruding from its chest. As I stared, transfixed and horrified at the same time, the bird-creature stopped, noticing my presence. It glared at me with hate-filled ruby eyes, the unexpectedly human face contorted in a snarl of rage. I thought the creature would leap at me in anger and my muscles tensed, adrenaline pumping, ready for the onslaught.
The bird-creature's amber irises lolled to the top, whites of its eyes flashing before it fell lifelessly onto the ground in a heap of flesh and feathers. Blood dribbled down from the arrow still stuck in its chest, snaking a path across the desert sand.
My blood-lust was aroused momentarily at the sight, but I was too repulsed to obey it. The reek of blood was too strong around me; not just amongst the carcasses of the bird-humans, but also from my father's army, his comrades, some lying half-dead on the sand, moaning profusely in pain, various organs ripped from their bodies.
It was then that I realized why father's elite army hunted only at night. They were as powerful and immortal as any of the Royal Family, bound to serve the darkness forever. How my father had manipulated them, how he had manipulated Mahaado's lineage I was reluctant to understand. All I realized then was that there were many of us, blood-drinkers and night- hunters. The Royal Army was a multitude of demons!
I could have laughed at the irony - demons fighting demons - but I quickly sobered. I was born into the cursed lineage and thus I was no better. I could become no better than my father; and as much as I denied it, I knew one day that I too would seduce younglings and half-adults to join my army and create another camaraderie of demons.
The truth stunned me. My own revelation made my blood run cold. If the humans whom my father ruled ever found out about this.
I was up and running before I could stop myself. They were winning, my father and his army of night-hunters. My feet were pounding aimlessly across the piles of slain and injured bodies, scarlet collecting on my heels. I ran, mind whirling, ignoring the surprised shout of a familiar voice. My form was weaponless and bare against this clashing army, this desert of carnage.
There was an awful chorus of shrieks, and I looked up just in time to catch another bushel of feathers. Instead of plummeting, the bird-human pumped its wings in a powerful sweep downwards, barely rising above my figure. I realized too late what was happening as a pair of icy, scaled talons suddenly grabbed my bare shoulders and jerked upwards. The creature was trying to pull me into the air!
Another bird-human joined the assault, talons clawing and gouging into my skin, leaving bloody scratches on my once-ivory shoulders and arms. I knew I had been foolish. I had plunged myself deep into the enemy ranks in my confusion. There was no way for my father to reach me without suffering a livid counterattack, and the arrows' limited range only heightened his anger and frustration. Even my furious struggles did nothing to qualm the onslaught - there were simply too many of them around me.
I could hear my father's enraged snarls even as I was hauled into the air, rising in the middle of a whirlwind of feathers, claws and shrieks to a dizzying height. I whimpered in remorse, wondering if father was upset and angry with me. Yet, I was already too far up to hear him, borne by the raucous bird-humans high into the night sky, wind whipping dangerously around my helpless, swaying figure. The group of bird-humans that had cluttered around me thinned out, rejoining the battle fray. I was a lead weight carried by a single bird-human, its talons clamped painfully onto my arms to keep me in the air.
I briefly wondered where it was taking me. Most likely as a hostage to be used as leverage. If I left the bird-humans to their devious schemes, I would become a source of grief for my father and the entire kingdom of Egypt.
I reacted spontaneously. Shifting my weight to one side, I forced my left arm lower until my face was level with one of the bird-human's scaly ankles. I twisted my head to one side and plunged my teeth straight into the creature's foul skin.
The bird-human screeched and thrashed furiously, releasing its hold on one of my arms in an attempt to use its talons to bat away my head. I quickly pulled my mouth away from the foul creature and jerked my body to one side. Caught completely off balance, the bird-human screeched and flapped awkwardly as the both of us descended rapidly. Just before hitting the ground, I wrenched my trapped arm free and fell onto the sandy desert ground meters away from the bird-human.
Slowly, painfully, I picked myself up from the ground. I heard a rustle of feathers; the bird-human had also gotten back onto its feet. I turned to face its burning orange eyes, eyes that looked like unfiltered starbursts, and for a single moment, I saw it not as a hideous creature that sought to kidnap and kill me but something exotic and beautiful. The creature was absolutely stunning in its deviation, wings fanning out like a trophy peacock.
It hissed angrily at me and I felt no revulsion. I no longer had the will to fight it.
The bird-human advanced towards me, arms fanned out, finger talons ready to gouge and claw at my face. Its eyes flashed with anger and deep hatred.
I saw it run towards me, saw the danger I had put myself in, and did nothing. At least, I thought I did nothing.
A wave of nausea hit me. It was as if, in that split-second frame that the bird-human was charging at me, time had slowed down. The nausea swept through my body, causing me to involuntarily recoil. I shivered, knees collapsing altogether, as all the feeling left my body save a burning sensation within my veins.
There's no possible way for me to explain this. It was as if pure Energy, the very essence thriving in my blood, had pooled into a single concentrated attack. Something was burning, emblazoned on my forehead, because the next moment, all the Energy escaped from it in a horrendous roar of sound and light.
The bird-human gave an awful screech and then was there no longer. It had been wiped out completely. Nothing remained.
Wide-eyed, I stared. With trembling fingers, I felt my forehead but there was nothing. The strange flaring Energy, the nausea, the sheer thrill of power had disappeared the moment the attack had wiped out the bird- creature.
I would have liked to have said that my first experience with Magick, the ancient Magick passed down from my family generation by generation along with our curse, was a profound and self-inspiring experience. Truthfully, all I felt was guilt and shame. I didn't know what I had done.
But I know now. The Magick that courses through the Royal family's blood - it is what makes us demons.
**************************************************
I was hungry beyond description. It had been hours since I had last 'nourished myself' - as Mahaado kindly put it - and the lack of _anything_ warm and pulsating was driving me insane. Even in my half-delirious mind, I could spot the vacant wisps of Ra's boat already rising over the horizon. My heart quailed. My father: he had warned me about the dangers of sunlight.
My eyes burned just staring at the tendrils of light reflecting off the quickly fleeting night sky. I picked up my pace, hungry and desperate. Was this how I would die; starving, left to be incinerated by Ra's flames of judgement? Was I to pay for the actions of my kind?
No. I was alone. I had no one. I belonged to no one.
I did not know if the sudden shadow that loomed over me was real or just an illusion of my delirious, fevered mind. I cannot fully remember if I begged it to help me or if it acted on its own accord. I had given up already, surrendered to Ra's will. I felt my body hit the ground before I blacked out.
****************************************************
Cold water splashed over my face. I grunted, batting at the air in annoyance before snapping my eyes open. I looked about my unfamiliar surroundings . Somehow, I was in a large cave, lying on a pile of straw. Intricate stone beams, much like half-completed obelisks, protruded from above and below the ground at random intervals. Hues of multicoloured light emitted from what seemed like rocks embedded into the roof of the cavern. I could hear the drip-drops of water falling in this large expanse.
There was no one in sight. Yet, if I was alone, who had brought me here? And who had dumped water over me? My throat was searing, and I rubbed it in attempts to soothe the pain. A dull ache was numbing my body, dampening my senses.
I coughed hoarsely. "Hello?" My voice echoed slightly in the cavern.
I was about to try again when I suddenly erupted into a fit of coughs. I clutched my stomach, trying to calm the pangs of hunger. My nerves felt like liquid fire, lungs saturated in pain with each breath I took.
Footsteps were approaching me, but they were dim. All I felt was the lust, the desire for blood, for something to quench the horrible thirst devastating my body.
There were many voices now, high and low, murmuring loudly to each other. Even in my half-comatose state I could hear them whisper disapprovingly at me, tongues clicking in hushed anger.
A deep voice penetrated the mumblings. "Is this the one you found?" It sounded angry.
Another lighter voice responded. "Yes. I had no clue it was one of _them_ though."
I broke into another fit of coughs. Their voices were becoming dim now, barely audible.
"It's dying, you know. Without blood, it will perish." The first of the two voices said it with no trace of sympathy.
A pause and then another rumble of murmurs from the crowd.
Unable to endure the pain, I collapsed to one side, breathing irregularly, eyes blank and wide open like a fish out of water.
"He is my finding so I will deal with him." The second voice silenced the murmurs with its ultimatum. "Now I wish all of you to leave, including you, Elder."
There was a shuffle of feet and then silence. Only a single beating heart remained within the room. I could hear it, smell it, even from here.
A face approached my blurring vision. It appeared completely human, a youth perhaps around the same age as Mahaado. He had neatly cropped brown hair and startling blue eyes, as blue as the purest lapis lazuli.
And skin, a shade darker than mine, though not as tanned as most Egyptians. Skin, with millions of veins underneath, all pulsating at once, with warmth, with life, with-
"Here."
I looked down. He had shoved his forearm by my mouth, palm open. I trembled weakly, fighting all my screaming instincts as I looked into his face for permission. His pure blue eyes reflected no emotion.
At last, unable to control the desire, I summed up the last of my strength and clamped my lips against his forearm, fangs immediately protruding to penetrate his skin.
The sensation was overwhelming. Every one of my dying nerves was being reborn, rusting copper gilded over with gold. The feeling of it dribbling down my chin and coursing into my mouth could have made me cry in absolute reverence. I was being fed the blood of life, the powerful, intoxicating substance that rolled against my tastebuds burning with pleasure. And the taste, so sweet and tangy at the same time, thick and warm - so refined. It tasted nothing like the normal humans I drank from; more like drinking a well-preserved wine.
A tinge of conscience swept through me. I faltered, lost my blood- lust, and quickly pulled away . Exhausted, sated, and soothed again, I looked up gratefully at the blue-eyed figure.
By tasting a person's blood, I could also get a vague sense of who someone was. I knew this figure was not human; though exactly _what_ I did not know.
Silence. The figure looked at his already-healing forearm and then back at me. So cold, his blue eyes.
"Th-thank you," I stammered. I hastily wiped the dribbles of blood from my chin, resisting the urge to lick my hand. "I-"
"I'll make this simple for the both of us." The blue-eyed figure's words were cold and biting. "I rescue you, you obey me. Otherwise, you leave."
I felt like I had been slapped. Here he was, playing the saint and offering me life, only to treat me like shit right afterwards. What game was he playing here? I bit my lip to prevent a retort. "I. don't have anywhere to return to." Well, it was the half-truth anyway. "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it." A part of me couldn't believe that I had been reduced to this.
Incredulousness swept through the figure's expression. It was quickly followed by a detached bemusement, much like the expression of a cat watching its prey squirm. I was unnerved by his stare.
"Then I'll warn you right now. If you think you'll get any more pity from me, then go and cry mountains. I'll slap your ass raw and then laugh about it." The blue-eyed figure shrugged and turned away, losing interest in me.
Stunned by his choice of words, I was tempted to bite back at his comment. He wouldn't really hurt me would he?
I think this was the first time I learned what a literal meaning was.
***********************************************
He called himself Seto. I preferred to remember him as the slave driver, the cold, blue-eyed individual who stared at me every evening with his fixed half-frown. He made me follow him like a ladies' lapdog, sometimes even wearing a collar and leash around my neck to symbolize my inferiority to him.
He laughed at my flimsy means of self-defense and told me to 'fight unrestrained'. In the first few lessons, it meant for me to attempt to charge at him, only to get hurtled backwards by just one of his powerful blows. He wasn't afraid to attack me, to hurt me, damage me, break some of my bones. I remember that I was once so beaten up in a training session that it was only through my fleeting desire to live, to survive this ordeal that I somehow crawled back into my small resting place.
You see, though Seto mocked and laughed and punished me crudely, he was also the only one who offered me his blood. No one else dared to come near me, for fear of being infected with whatever disease my presence would bring, and most stared at me scornfully. The youths, the ones my age, would snicker at me, even without the presence of Seto or the leash.
And yet, I developed a fierce bond with Seto. Perhaps it was a bond enforced only by the blood he gave me, the blood which strengthened me and kept me alive. Perhaps it was a gratuitous bond. In any case, I felt a devotion that was almost attraction towards the cold blue-eyed figure. He hit me and I came back, asking for more.
*****************************************************
"Your name is Yami right?"
I turned at the voice, coming face to face with a youth about my age flanked by a group of his peers.
I forced a polite nod. Seto had long reinforced the meaning of politeness to me.
"Master Seto instructs you, doesn't he?"
The word 'Master' sounded funny with 'Seto', but, after much reasoning, I realized there was no difference. Wasn't the blue-eyed figure my sworn master and I his always dutiful slave? I nodded yet again, not liking where this conversation was going.
The youth guffawed. "I can't believe Master Seto would take someone like _you_. He's legendary among us." The youth's face grew ugly, bitter. "I was the next candidate for his student. And you're not even one of _us_."
I was getting sick of this by now. The same conversation always sprouted up every week, about the 'outcast' creature, about the one who was 'not like them', 'weak', and an 'inexcusable hassle'. I often wondered why they even tolerated my presence. Was it the guilt of knowing that I would die isolated in a desert without sustenance and exposed to fatal sunlight? In this semi-underground cavern, surrounded by warm teeming bodies, I was safe.
I bowed politely. "I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to go." It sounded humble, so unlike my previous royal self, though it was the guise that I had been taught to adopt. I rushed over to one side of the youth, head still bowed low.
The other grabbed me roughly by the arm. "You're not leaving yet," he hissed angrily in my ear, pulling me forcefully towards the upper hallways. My eyes widened. I never travelled any higher than the middle hallways in fear of sunlight. The other was deliberately trying to drag me outside!
The youth had a nasty grin on his face. He pointed to one of the sunlit exits of the cavern. "I want to see what Master Seto has taught you. That is, if you have enough wits, outcast."
Before I could protest or struggle, the gaggle of youths collected into one mass and proceeded to drag me out. My scream died halfway in my throat as a hand muffled my mouth.
Already, the sunlight was searing my eyes, forcing me to shut them. I could feel its unbearable heat as the group advanced, and I wondered if I could somehow break free, make a dash-
And suddenly I was outside. I cringed, waiting for the pain.
And waited. The thought 'still waiting' occurred in my mind. [2]
At last, I forced my eyes open, staring at the impatient faces glowering at me. The sunlight stung my eyes somewhat, but otherwise, had no effect, save caressing my skin with a soothing warmth. I was utterly confounded.
The original youth glared at me as if I had just discovered to count my toes. "You took Seto's blood, didn't you? Drinking blood from any of our kind, even if you were only mortal, does have potent effects. One of them is an immunity to flames."
I was still rendered speechless. A part of my mind was yammering about the sunlight, about seeing Ra's face for the first time, about a million wonders of gazing at a spectacle in _daylight_. Yet, the most predominant thought in my mind was a question. _What_ exactly were they - Seto, this youth, all of them in this dwelling?
The others had begun to form a circle around the first youth and me. I looked around nervously but there were no pity in their faces. The first youth grinned back at me confidently. "It is quite common for two students training under different Masters to challenge each other to duels [3] involving any form of physical or Energy-induced attack. The winner is the first one to draw blood on his opponent."
I had never heard about such a thing. The sheer idea of a battle between two youths like us appalled me, even though I had endured more than my share of pain with Seto. It just felt. wrong for me to attack anyone for fun. I didn't see any pleasure in killing or hurting anyone.
Ah, but who was I fooling? Am I not the natural killer, the _blood-sucker_ who must hurt or take the lives of others to live? How horrendous, and ironic at the same time.
I felt myself nodding mutely.
And then, even before I was ready, he attacked.
I narrowly missed his extended fist, falling on one knee to avoid the blow before hastily shuffling backwards. All of Seto's training tips meticulously drilled into my mind guided my actions, allowing me to dodge and retaliate to all of my opponent's offensive attacks without suffering any damage.
A thought occurred to me. How exactly did we draw blood without weapons?
Unfortunately, the thought caused me to lose my concentration, and I was slapped painfully on the chest, my butt hitting the ground hard. Cheeks flushed with humiliation even before the chorus of laughter rang out around me, I sprung to my feet, tapping into my vampiric reflexes to pinpoint every single twist of my opponent's motion. Muscles coiled with anticipation, I waited for my opponent to begin lunging at me once again before I moved as quickly as possible, darting underneath my opponent's outstretched arm and behind him. Immediately I wrapped my arm around my opponent's neck and twisted his other free arm behind him in the awkward angle Seto had shown - or rather, demonstrated - to me.
Elevated by the rapture of the battle, I firmly held my opponent's struggling frame and leaned my head closer to him, head by his ears.
"So," I whispered, soft enough only for him to hear, "I have to draw blood to win?" A wicked thought occurred in my mind, and I brushed my lips on his prone neck, deliberately letting my fangs touch his skin. "I wonder what you taste like?"
The response was immediate. The youth snarled and shoved me forcefully away, staring at me with wild green eyes. He spat at my stunned figure. "You bastard," he hissed. "_Demon_."
The others joined in with the youth's chants, screaming obscenities in my ears. My opponent hushed them with a dismissive wave of his hand. He grinned, rather mischievously. "You might be clever, _demon_, with your little tricks. But you see, we are the masters of all that live. Our species are above the filth of your kind."
And before I could even ask exactly what his kind was, he decided to show me.
The boy's figure began to grow and stretch, distorting into what seemed like a horrific mess of spines and limbs. Slowly, they began to tighten and rearrange themselves, skin darkening and forming millions upon millions of fine scales. Large, leathered wings shot from his back, unfolding in crooked snaps.
My heartbeat quickened tenfold. Staring back at me was no longer a human youth but a _dragon_.
It was easily ten feet high, a shade of pure green. It twisted its triangular head, beady eyes staring straight at me. I could see the layers of serrated teeth hiding within the creature's half-open jaw.
They were all _dragons_? Was that why they stared at me scornfully? Because I could never be one of them, never be as powerful or understand what it meant to shape-shift into something else?
Even in this moment of fear, of understanding the potential danger between what was a petty jealously, I couldn't help but be curious. Were they humans able to adopt the form of dragons or dragons able to become humans? Or had the integration become so complete that it no longer mattered?
The dragon, my opponent, screeched a defiant cry at me before snapping its wings fully open, bringing them forcefully downwards several times to rise into the air. I was overwhelmed just by the wing power of this creature. How I was expected to defeat it was beyond me - my primary concern was for my safety.
The creature flapped its wings before making a tight dive for me. Unsure where to expect the aerial assault, I could only hunch my frame and make myself a smaller target for the large creature. Unfortunately, one of the dragon's hind claws caught my tunic, snagging me effortlessly into the air. Again I was overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu, of the bird-humans stowing me away while my father stared at me in a mixture of anger and frustration.
Even as I hung there helplessly and tried to figure a way to get myself back onto the ground without killing myself in the process, I couldn't help but notice how _no one bothered to help me_. I really was the outcast; the demon; the one not fit to be part of this clan. I could have cried.
My opponent did not hesitate before flexing its wings, wriggling its legs in attempts to dislodge me. My shirt was immediately unhooked, and I felt myself falling. Falling from this height, I knew I would die.
I closed my eyes as a deep wave of nausea washed through me. I dismissed it for vertigo and braced myself for the impact.
Time began to distort. My descent seemed to slow down until I was floating. A rush of power began to collect within my veins and my head throbbed, forehead burning with energy. However, this time, instead of escaping from me in an offensive burst of power, the energy spread across my spine and collected there. The energy, the Magick, began to fuse with my very structure, my tissues and bones, moulding them to its will.
As time re-enacted itself and I began to fall again, I felt a shudder of air, a release of power, and then, I was no longer falling. Attached to my shoulder blades was a pair of pure ebony wings. They seemed to dance with a life of their own, manipulating the air to hold me up. And yet, they conceded to my conscious efforts to move them. The Magick coursing through my blood was far from finished. It fed me energy but it also burned with anger.
Snarling, I sped into the sky in quick wing beats, catching up with the altitude of my opponent. Though I was twice as small as the other's dragon- shifted form, the ancient Magick coursing through me made me confident, almost arrogant.
As I concentrated my Magick into an attack, I felt my hatred for my opponent, growing, climaxing into an intolerable rage. I wanted to maim him, rip him apart, tear and indulge in his insides, peel his skin and lick the flesh underneath, twist off the bones and-
I blinked as I realized that my opponent was no longer in the air. In my fury and heat of battle, I had unleashed my attack without control over it. I did not even know that I had attacked him.
And yet, he lay on the ground, a crumbled figure, wings pent pitifully. Blood dribbled from his serpentine mouth, and his neck was craned in an awkward position, too awkward to be considered normal.
I descended, letting the Magick, the unquenchable power recede back into me, dormant once more. With the loss of Magick went the hatred and bloodshed. My arms began to tremble, fingers twitching uncontrollably. I looked up, speechless, towards the others, my mouth hanging open trying to form some sort of coherent apology.
Several of the others backed away from me.
A hand suddenly clasped over my shoulder. Startled, I turned around, though I sensed his presence before I saw him.
A pair of cold blue eyes stared back at me, emotionless. "That's enough, Yami."
I bowed, head low. "Yes. master."
********************************************************
Wounds usually heal within time, as years pass by. Eventually, the tension between the green-eyed youth, Taesil, and I eased; we learned fighting tips from each other and a tentative friendship grew from our once- petty rivalry. Encouraged by the act, the other peers of the clan eventually began to accept me. In between lessons with Seto, I learned with them, fought and tousled with them. Even when they assumed their draconic forms to hunt or just fly, I would go amongst them on my Magick-crafted dragon wings.
True, I may not be one of them physically. Yet, as one of the peers kindly put it, I really had taken a place as one of them in heart.
It touched me to know that they accepted me; that I was one of them; that I belonged to somewhere now.
It made me ill prepared for the confrontation ahead.
**************************************************
Someone burst into my resting place, shaking me vigorously by the shoulders. Groggily, I forced my eyes open. A look of urgency was etched in the messenger's eyes.
"Yami. The upper hallway. T-"
I was up and out the exit before I heard his last words. Even as I ran, I could hear the anxious murmurs amongst the others. As I filtered through the crowd gathered on the top floor, I could make out a flicker of emerald green.
I sucked in a harsh breath, and my mind seemed to slow down to a stop.
Lying halfway between the cave entrance and the inside recesses of the hallway was a dragon of scarlet and green. At least, I thought was of a mixed hue until I noticed the way the crimson dribbled down freely across the dragon's back. I smelt the reek of blood everywhere on the creature. And still, my mind refused to acknowledge him.
I stood there, numb, watching the fallen creature with half-closed eyes. A heavy wooden spear still stuck out from the dragon's chest, though both had long stopped moving. The creature's eyes were wide open, clouded in an expression of indignation and surprise.
Someone nudged me; it was one of the Elders. "Yami. Whoever killed Taesil left a mark on him. Seto said you might recognize it."
Numbly, I walked under the Elder's guide. My mind was screaming that it was impossible - how could a _dragon_ be killed? I quivered slightly as the Elder's gnarled hands pointed to the dragon's flank. Etched deeply into the skin, piercing through the scales cleanly was a single, glowing insignia. The blood had long dried, though the marking was clear: a single eye-shaped structure represented by two arching horizontal lines.
The Sennen Eye. The mark of the Royal Family of Egypt and of the Pharaoh.
My face must have blanched. For the next moment, people, both ones I knew and had never met, were pressing against me, asking me who it was, demanding to know what they were up against. Jaws clamped painfully shut, I could only shake my head. Everything was spinning around me.
_They_ were coming; my father and his elite group of hunters, of slayers. I doubted they knew I was here. They had come to destroy everything 'demonic'.
Bitterness overwhelmed me. It was always like that, my father assuming the superior role, an arrogant gleam of confidence set on his face.
No, he was not my father nor mentor. My master was Seto and my kindred the dragons. My blood-father had never taught me anything, always an aloof, distant figure who barely visited me save to reprimand my every actions. No, he was not my father anymore - Seto had been a wiser and closer guardian than my actual one.
The _Pharaoh_ of Egypt was threatening to destroy my clan. That, and nothing else.
The words flowed, full of spite and malice from my tongue. I felt like an oracle, an omen of ill fortune. "The Pharaoh of Egypt is coming. He will attack with his army at nightfall. It is his will that he rids all of Egypt of anything not-human." Excluding himself and his army, of course. Yet, I couldn't admit the truth. I refused to acknowledge the Pharaoh as my father.
Everyone had snapped into full awareness. The news lying fearfully in their hearts had been awakened, spurring both urgency and anger. I stood there, watching everyone rush off, watching several Healers drag the corpse away. The stench of blood was fresh in my mind.
"He's coming, the Pharaoh."
I did not bother to turn around. I had felt Seto's presence near me a while ago.
"What will you say to him? Which way will you fight?"
"I _hate_ him." The words spat angrily from my mouth before I could reign it back in. "I'll go out and destroy him before he can even come close to here."
It never occurred to me exactly how old Seto was. Even among the Elders, the blue-eyed figure seemed older, hiding a deeper and more ancient secret. None of the others spoke about it; though there had been hints of Seto being 'not what he seemed'. It also occurred to me that I had never seen my master's dragon form.
Seto stared at me for a long time. "Brash words, prince of Egypt. Your royal lineage is notorious for its arrogance."
My cheeks burned but I wisely held my tongue. I glared at the blue- eyed figure. I would show him and my entire clan exactly where my loyalty lay and erase their lingering doubts about me.
It never occurred to me exactly how Seto knew my true identity.
********************************************
Midnight arrived too quickly.
We snuck into the half-moonlit desert not on dragon wing as our enemies would have thought, but as seemingly harmless humans.
I walked amongst them, cloak hooded to cover up my prominent hairstyle. I had tried several times to tame my hair, though it seemed to unnaturally jut out no matter what I did to it. Seto walked in the back alone but I could feel the strong aura of his presence, reassuring.
We suddenly stopped. A forerunner had scouted the scene, relaying all actions to us. I caught the message that the Pharaoh was moving at a startling pace on horseback towards the dwelling. We needed to intercept them before they got there.
Our group, about a hundred or so of us, moved quickly. We immediately doubled back, taking a shortcut through the cool desert sands in hopes of catching up to the Pharaoh and his army in time. None of us were foolish enough to expose ourselves in the air; though I knew that arrows were repelled by dragon-hide. Our attack relied purely on the element of surprise.
My nocturnal abilities allowed me to spot them before anyone else. I gazed spitefully at the rising sandcloud in the distance, and I could vaguely hear the rumbling of hooves pounding against the once-silent desert. I informed those next to me, the message travelling quickly until we were all prepared. The younger ones, my friends, were nervous, excited, and edgy. Truthfully, I felt sick, both physically and at heart. I had loathed facing this inevitable battle.
The drumming of hooves grew louder, and we lay low on the desert ground, just like how I had unwittingly done so long ago. I was older now, more experienced, but my past memories still haunted me. I wanted to be rid of them forever.
The pounding was now incredibly close, throbbing by my ears. I forgot who hissed "Now!", if there was such a person, but we were immediately upon the horseback army. I paused just a moment to analyze the scene, watching in half-awe as my dragon-shifted clan tore at the Pharaoh's army like children at a toy fest. Horses and warriors alike scattered in panic, belatedly drawing their weapons. Streams of flame erupted from the dragons' jaws, incinerating enemies alive, creating a massacre of burning flesh and screaming, flailing bodies.
I believed I nearly retched as my eyes tore up the sight. Nevertheless, I plunged into the thicket of the battle, mind set on only one target.
He rode on his pure white stallion, eyes regal and confident even as his scattered lines screamed and fell. With a loud, majestic shout, he signalled for his ranks to collect, gathering them into a ragged line.
I caught the gleam of blackened metal in their arrow shafts and my heart plummeted.
"Get back!" I screamed despite myself, despite the roar of battle and the triumphant cries of the dragons. "Don't get near them!"
It was too late.
I had heard of these weapons a long time ago. They were supposedly infused with Magick, burning with a livid, explosive substance. It was nicknamed 'liquid fire'.
Had it been just fire, the gel-like substance would have collected harmlessly on the dragons' scales and then dissipated. But it was not so benign. I watched helplessly as the Pharaoh's warriors drew arrows of the gleaming substance and launched them into the air. Those whom the substance hit immediately burst into brilliant blue flames, body writhing and screeching in agony.
I was dumbfounded. The sensations of the past, the attack against those bird-humans flashed in my mind. I was briefly struck with a moment of fear, wondering again if the winged beasts would capture me, when everything once again resettled. I _was_ one of them; the Pharaoh was my enemy.
Friends whom I had flown with, others who were too slow to dodge the attacks shrieked piteously as they combusted with unquenchable flames. They sizzled, too bright for my eyes to gaze at, burning flesh and bones alike. Dragons that had once soared majestically in the sky lay twisted and twitching as they were reduced into smouldering ashes before they hit the ground.
I watched, horrified, unable to act.
A sudden behemoth of pure white shot across my vision. I watched, stunned, as the chrome-plated creature spread its large wings the moment another volley of liquid fire hurtled towards the vulnerable dragons. The creature, a dragon unlike one I had ever seen, pivoted its wings and absorbed as much of the attack as possible. The liquid splattered against its plated hide and wings as harmlessly as water.
I knew who the dragon was before it stared at me deliberately with its lapis lazuli-blue eyes. Cold blue eyes wizened and isolated by experience.
The pure white dragon [4] pivoted in mid-air, sweeping its sheath- like wings underneath it before diving towards the ranks of opponents. Its claws gouged the enemy lines, scattering warriors and horses alike. A burst of sizzling, electrical Magick escaped its jaws, creating miniscule explosions in its wake.
And yet, the Pharaoh was unscathed. Deserted by his panicking warriors, yes, but untouched. Seto had left the Pharaoh for me.
I wished I could just stand there and watch. Yet, I would be accused of being the coward, and who was I to shirk from battle when my friends had died selflessly before me? Wasn't I here to avenge my clan?
Taking one last deep breath, I ran towards the still figure of my sole opponent. My feet did not stop until I reached him. I stood in front of his regal figure, looking up at the Pharaoh and his white stallion.
The Pharaoh inhaled sharply, staring down incredulously at me. He dismounted the stallion. "Yami."
I took a step back as he reached to touch my shoulders. I could feel his eyes, his unchanged face stare at me, almost too approvingly. He was looking at my cold face, my stubborn frown, slightly-tanned skin, and firm muscles. And for a single moment, I wanted no more than to embrace him, cry to him like the lost child I was, explaining what had happened over the years.
The cry of the dragons brought me back to reality. There was no sentimental pity here.
"Pharaoh." I nearly shivered at the icy tone of my own voice. "You come to attack my kindred. I stand in your way."
The Pharaoh looked at me oddly. "I apologize for-"
"-Killing my friends?" I smiled, not too nicely. "Why thank you." The bow I gave him was curt, mocking. Yes, thank you very much for locking me up in the palace for so many years and then abandoning me when I needed you. Bitterness clenched deepest in my heart.
Surprise, then indignation spread across the Pharaoh of Egypt's expression. I could see etched lines of weariness on his otherwise meticulously youthful face; a face as ageless and startlingly similar as my own. We could have passed for brothers. "This is no time for playing games. Just move aside, let us finish, and then I'll explain everything."
I shook my head, almost sadly. "No, you don't need to explain anything, _Pharaoh_. I know what you are up to. I know exactly how you betrayed me."
I wondered if that twisted expression on his face represented hurt or revulsion. My anger-filled mind told me it was the latter. I laughed, mocking him, the two of us isolated from everything else, a separate scene on a separate stage.
"Yami." The Pharaoh was still trying to reason. "I don't want to hurt- "
I interrupted him with a harsh, derisive bark of laughter. "You don't want to what? Hurt me? Tear up my soul and feed it to those harpies you fought? Why, how sentimental of you, how unlike your authoritative self, _Pharaoh_."
I cannot remember if it was he or I who initiated the fight. Suddenly, the two of us were sizing each other up. He carried a trim silver sword while all I had was the weapon Seto had given me years ago, a thin dagger carved out of an intricate wood that glowed with a soft-green sheen.
Both of us bared our weapons at each other, tentative to attack. I moved first, thrusting the dagger sideways and slapping the flat of the blade painfully against my opponent's shoulder. He was quick to react, shifting his sword to one side to pry the dagger loose. Both of us disengaged, looking at each other warily.
I moved, dagger point aimed at my opponent's chest, though it was easily warded off by the sword. Metal clacked against wood. My dagger was unyielding to the harder silver. My hand hummed numbly from the impact.
I felt the Magick before the Pharaoh released the attack. It was the same familiar essence that resided within me. Snarling, I thrust my dagger towards him, but I was repelled by the Magick, the energy throwing me several meters into the air.
Helplessly airborne, I could only call upon my own Magick, letting the wings unfurl from my back to keep me from falling gracelessly. Instead of landing and discarding my wings on the ground, I thrust my wings in mid- air and quickly distanced myself several meters. Quickly discarding them, I fell in perfect timing onto the ground behind my opponent.
The Pharaoh attempted to attack me with another burst of Magick, but I hastily counterbalanced it with the Magick with my own. Both energy- induced attacks collided in a burst of gleaming crimson light and clashing power before dissipating.
My opponent grimaced, readying another blast, but I was already prepared. I grabbed a fistful of the desert sand and thrust it into his face, making him lose concentration as the grainy substance irritated his vision. I then summoned my own recesses of Magick, pooling as much as possible without overtaxing myself.
The sensation came immediately. The insignia was there, burning on my forehead, the energy overwhelming me. With the rush of more potent Magick came the desire to destroy, tear, kill; and this time, I did not push the feeling aside. Instead, I dwelled on the euphoria, veins saturated with power. Before my opponent could recover, I released my own Magick-induced blast of energy, watching it slam like a barrier against him.
He did nothing to block the attack. He did not even construct a shield as the blow hit him full force, sending him plummeting into the air and then painfully back onto the ground.
I quickly sped towards his prone figure. I raised my dagger, watching its eerie green glow collect in the moonlight.
My opponent looked at me, defeated. His sword had been blasted harmlessly away, and he was lying prone on the sand. He did not even bother to struggle.
I gazed at him, full of rage and hatred, the Magick fuelling my body with a carnal desire to destroy. For a moment, the fingers grasping my dagger quivered, a slip of conscience escaping my euphoria, but it was soon banished. The sadistic nature of the Magick residing within me had prevailed again.
The dagger plunged blade-first into my opponent's chest, sinking deep into his pumping heart. I twisted it a few times, listening to the squelch of the blood collecting on his clothing, hearing the thudding of his heart slow down.
I breathed heavily, in spite of my trembling body. Raw emotions roiled within me, venomous, angry, victorious. "So you die, _Pharaoh_."
"Of course, my son." Hands not even straying to touch or remove the dagger, the Pharaoh closed his eyes. A small smile played on his lips.
I wanted to strangle him. He was mocking me. Somehow, he was triumphant, even in death. When sunlight came, his body would burn, twist into miserable ashes and fade away forever. I would never have to see it again.
His eyes stared at me vacantly. Their blank visage, so calm and confident, told me otherwise.
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A snake without its head soon loses interest in life. Thus, the remainder of the Pharaoh's army, the ones who were not slain or left mortally injured, fled. Thus ended the reign of the Pharaoh Akunamukanon. I wondered who would succeed him in throne. Perhaps a human, ready to explain how Egypt had been possessed by a demon and would now prosper again under mortal blood? The secret, the truth, would be quickly revealed.
Daylight had come again. I watched as the golden disc of Ra spread over the littered bodies, withering and then disintegrating the slain members of the Pharaoh's army. I watched the Pharaoh's regal face loose its handsome beauty, shrivelling up into a gross, contorted mask before drying up completely and crackling into fine dust. Dust that could not be distinguished from the millions upon billions of grains of desert sand.
Seto was standing behind me again, indifferent but solemn. My clan, my kind, were picking up the fallen dragon bodies and carrying them away in a silent, mournful procession.
My mind was numb and my chest ached painfully.
"So they're gone. The battle is over."
I nodded mutely. Something wet was collecting on my eyes, and I hastily wiped it away with my blood-stained hand.
"The Pharaoh Akunamukanon." Seto shrugged at the name. "He has ruled Egypt for a long time. Once, before this fated conflict occurred, I dared to fight him. It was before his conquest to destroy all 'demons', and he spared my life by teaching me a lesson."
I glanced sharply at Seto. The blue-eyed figure unclasped his tarnished cloak and craned his head to one side. Emblazoned on the side of his bare neck was a red marking, consisting of two symmetrical curves joined to form an eye-like pattern. The Sennen Eye had been carved crudely onto his skin like a tattoo.
I wondered, annoyed, why Seto was showing me this; what kind of irony lay in his words. It clicked.
Even with Magick, I doubted I could defeat Seto. And for the late Pharaoh to be able to defeat Seto - his power would have been out of my league. If he had had the will to fight...
But he didn't. He had ruled for a long time.
The Pharaoh, my _father_ had deliberately let me win because he knew it was his time. He knew that, though immortal, he would be succeeded by another.
You see, though a human would seize the mortal throne of Egypt, the immortal throne, passed through my ancestors, still resided in my blood. I was the Pharaoh of the night-hunters, of the handful left scattered in the world. I wondered if they knew; if they would hate me for it, for betraying their kind.
We, mortals and immortals alike, have an innate desire to be special, unique, immune to the spiteful properties of life. How vicious, how proud I had been in that moment when I had triumphed over my father and gained false vengeance.
And now that the gross reality hit me, I realized exactly how distorted my false emotions and illusions had been. The hurricane of reality, of life, was at last sucking me in.
Amazing how life can change with just one sentence, one truth.
I believe I cried then. I fell on my knees onto the sandy ground and wept bitterly, because I was overwhelmed, because I had deceived myself, because I could not fully understand what I had done. I sobbed like a mewling kitten without dignity or self-restraint as the hot desert air pounded my face and the sun god Ra stared mutely at me with its disc-like visage.
I don't need truths in my life. I only wish for the wisdom to realize them.
End Part 1
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End notes:
[1] Units of time back in my youth.
[2] A quote Zoo told me was appropriate for the moment.
[3] I do realize that they now have cards called 'Duel Monsters', though that is not to be mistaken with these duels
[4] Apparently, some people argue that the Blue Eyes White Dragon is a female. I assure you that Seto is very male.