Author's note: Ok, yet another boring chapter, but I promise the next one
will be more interesting! I know that Ancient Egypt was called Khemet but
forgive me for that (and any other mistakes I make). I AM NOT
GOD!!!!!!!!!! He He He.Just Kidding ^_^().
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! "_"
Chapter One
"Two shall be born of Life and Death."
The sun was setting. The silhouettes of the great pyramids were black on the horizon. A pair of dark horses made a rough trail in the smooth sand of the desert. The pharaoh was in the lead, urging his horse on. The high priest of the temple to Osiris rode a few feet behind him.
~Flashback~
Akunadin stared intently at the fire, it burned dark red, the result of the special herbs the priest had thrown on it. Amenhotep remained quiet, waiting for his brother to come out of his trance. Akunadin's face remained blank for a few minutes before he blinked slowly and extinguished the fire with a wave of his hand. Immediately the priest's face became animated, fear and despair flicking across his open features. The Pharaoh noticed this. "What did you see, brother." He asked calmly, though inside he was bubbling with apprehension. "The Queen.she is- she is dying." The priest said hoarsely. The Pharaoh gave a strangled cry and leapt to his feet, running towards his horse.
~End Flashback~
The lights of the palace were growing. The two riders were approaching the rear of the palace, the side that faced the open desert. The three guards at the gate had recognized the royal crown glinting on the Pharaoh's head and the gate was open for them. They both rode straight through without so much as a glance to either side. The Pharaoh continued to gallop through the courtyard, the horse's hooves clicking on the marble floor of the tropical garden. The high priest followed at a slower pace.
Amenhotep reached the doorway to the palace; he dismounted from his horse with a wild leap. Leaving the confused beast at the entrance he rushed into the palace.
He rushed up the stone steps to the wing that housed all of the royal chambers. His was at the opposite end, rising majestically above the vast city of Waht-Smenkht. His heart hammered heavily against his chest. Each breath was strained, the dark anxiety hanging over him clouding his mind. The Pharaoh grew tense as he approached the bedchamber. A crowd of servant's milled around the door, faces distraught with worry. The Queen Tiye was well loved by her people and they would mourn- Amenhotep shook his head, trying to banish such thoughts; his wife would not die if he could help it.
But, of course, he could not help it, and such vows were just daring Osiris to do his worst. How could he resist a challenge like that?
The dark wooden door opened a foot, just enough to let the midwife slip through before she shut it quickly behind her. She gazed up at the Pharaoh, her light blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears and he knew the answer to his unspoken question before either found a voice. "I'm sorry your Majesty," she whispered. Behind him he heard servants gasp and some break out into gentle sobs. A wave of pain crashed down on him, blocking out all other sensations. She was dead.
She was dead.
She was dead.
She was dead.
No matter how he thought of it he knew it could not be true. It was just a cruel joke, he would open the door and there she would be, smiling, still flushed from labor, holding his son. He had imagined the scenario too often to have it messed up by a silly trick. He rushed past the midwife and yanked open the door.
And there she was. Her mouth trapped in a perpetual frown, her lips pale, mirroring the color of her face, which was whiter than the sheets that were no longer that color, having been stained dark crimson. Her amethyst eyes were lifeless, their sparkle gone, gazing into space.
She was dead.
And he could no longer deny it. He stood there for what seemed like a millenium. Staring at her, trying to find a way for this to be untrue. He walked towards her, his body moving automatically, while his mind tried to deny her death. He touched her cold, stony cheek.
"My lord," a small voice behind him spoke. He turned around numbly. Acaya the midwife stood there, holding a small bundle in her arms.
"Your son," she said meekly. She held out the squirming bundle. He stuck out his arms automatically. She looked at them incredulously, stepping forward to stand by him. She slowly adjusted his arms and set the child in them. Amenhotep found himself gazing into a pair of deep purple eyes, mirror images of his wife's but they were full of light and life. It was as if Tiye had transferred her life to this child when she gave birth to him, and he was as close to her as Amenhotep could get now that the Queen was gone.
A small click caused the Pharaoh to look up from his smiling son. The royal physician had just stepped through the side door carrying another bundle. This one wriggled around furiously. For a moment Amenhotep stood numbly, looking from one child to the other. Then the baby the physician was carrying started to wail. The poor man hurried over, looking frazzled and stuffed the baby in the bewildered Pharaoh's arms, his eyes meeting his king's for a brief moment before turning away.
"Your daughter my lord," he announced and quickly backed out the door. Amenhotep was left looking down at two identical faces and two pairs of burning Amethyst orbs. One pair was bright and sparkling, one dark and burning. The daughter continued to wail at an unearthly pitch and the poor Pharaoh was forced to set them both down on the bed so he could cover his ears. Surprisingly the boy did not join in the symphony of howling and remained calm. He grabbed one of his sister's flailing hands and cooed. She immediately quieted down, whimpering softly. Amenhotep could only sigh gratefully until his gaze rested on the other occupant of the bed.
"When-" Amenhotep began and stopped, choking down the unborn wail in his throat, refusing to succumb to the urge to wail exactly as his daughter had.
"When did she-" he started again, gesturing towards the bed, a lone tear slipping down his cheek. Acaya fortunately caught his meaning.
"She died right after your son was born," Acaya said gratingly, another tear making a salty track down the side of her face. "The girl had to be pulled from her body afterwards. We didn't know if she would survive but she pulled through. You should be very.proud Your Majesty."
"Yes," he whispered. Suddenly all of the pain became too much to bear, the weight of everything pulled him to the floor, where he sobbed and wailed just like his daughter had. Acaya gently gathered the twins in her arms and left the room.
~Two hours later~
Amenhotep woke with a start, instantly suppressing the urge to cry as reality dealt him another hard blow. He had woken for a reason; he felt he was deliberately pulled out of his dreams for some reason. There was a shadow in the corner. It was far past sundown and the room was full of shadows, but this one was different, darker. It seemed to absorb the light, pulling all shadows towards it to form a cloak of darkness mirroring the night sky, minus the bright stars. The Pharaoh sat up with a start. The dark form slowly pulled itself away from the wall. It was in the shape of a man. For a fleeting instant Amenhotep thought it might be an assassin, hired to dispatch of him, and found he didn't care. He had nothing left to live for and he was not afraid, he and his wife would be together in the after life. The figure now stood before him, though he could not see its face Amenhotep could tell it was looking at him by the way his skin prickled under the gaze. The figure had remained shrouded in a protective cocoon of shadow even though the moonlight was shining directly on it. Somehow the Pharaoh felt as if he were cowering from the shadow. He pulled himself to his feet and stood face to face with the darkness. Even the change in position did not help, he still felt as if the figure were looking down on him and he was determined to face his death bravely, without feeling weak. After a long drawn out silence the figure spoke, slowly and softly.
"You have a great amount of courage, for a mortal," he said. His tones seemed as smooth as velvet and as soft as it too. There was no mouth that the Pharaoh could see and the voice seemed to emanate from all corners of the room, "I have come to tell you of your children's fate, will you hear me?" It was not a request, the tone suggested he had better comply or else there would be trouble. There was a dangerous edge to this man, and it was certainly a man judging by the voice. Amenhotep nodded.
"The child your wife bore is mine," the figure began. The Pharaoh felt something stir in him, fiery anger shooting through the cold desolation.
"What?!" He demanded, "How dare you say something like that! Tiye would never!" His anger was getting the better of him, he no longer cared how dangerous this stranger was, what he said was unacceptable.
"You mistake me mortal. She is your child in body; I would not take credit for your creation. However, she is mine in spirit because I have shaped her that way." The shadow explained cuttingly his voice sharp enough to shred Amenhotep's anger, and the Pharaoh felt as if he was once again a child, being rebuked by one of his elders.
"What are you talking about?" Amenhotep demanded putting up a rebellious facade. The figure stepped away from him. The dark form of an arm separated itself from the body of the shadow. With a small flick the shadows fluttered away, like bats taking off into the night.
Before him stood a man dressed in dark clothes. His garb was all black, black pants tucked into black boots and a black sash around his waist. He wore no shirt, only a silver necklace with a silver Ankh hanging down on his well-defined chest. He had a scimitar buckled on his right hip and a dagger on his left, both tucked into the sash. Hard muscles rippled under the smooth tan skin of his arms that were partially hidden by the black cape around his shoulders. He looked to be only in his mid twenties.
Despite his young body his eyes looked old, older than the Pyramids perhaps, and full of wisdom. They were dark, midnight black and perfectly framed by his high cheekbones. His eyes seemed to absorb the light of the stars and the moon. Their wisdom was layered, collected from many lifetimes and Amenhotep could only see past a few of them before the darkness became too great to penetrate.
"You and your wife created her, certainly, but I have molded her soul and given her many of my gifts to help her in this life. She is protected by the Gods and is as one of them. You will protect her and treat her as is fitting for her rank in this world. You will refer to her as your daughter. You will not tell anyone of her powers or heritage, I will come for her when I deem she is fit to live in Our realm." He ordered quickly and quietly in much the same tone a commander would order an army. Amenhotep could only stare up at him.
"Who are you?" he demanded. Who was this man to order around a king of Egypt? However, underneath all of his self-righteous indignation he could feel cold fear creeping up though he refused to acknowledge it. Subconsciously Amenhotep felt that this man had every right to order him around but his conscious was denying that for lack of solid evidence.
"I am Osiris," the man said ethereally.
A.N.- Ok if you could stand it enough to read all the way to the bottom you must have some tolerance for it. Sorry if it's slightly confusing I'll go through later and edit it but for now just click on the little button in the bottom left hand corner of the screen. Honestly it's not that hard, humor me and tell me what's wrong with it! Pretty Please? Don't make me use my puppy dog eyes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! "_"
Chapter One
"Two shall be born of Life and Death."
The sun was setting. The silhouettes of the great pyramids were black on the horizon. A pair of dark horses made a rough trail in the smooth sand of the desert. The pharaoh was in the lead, urging his horse on. The high priest of the temple to Osiris rode a few feet behind him.
~Flashback~
Akunadin stared intently at the fire, it burned dark red, the result of the special herbs the priest had thrown on it. Amenhotep remained quiet, waiting for his brother to come out of his trance. Akunadin's face remained blank for a few minutes before he blinked slowly and extinguished the fire with a wave of his hand. Immediately the priest's face became animated, fear and despair flicking across his open features. The Pharaoh noticed this. "What did you see, brother." He asked calmly, though inside he was bubbling with apprehension. "The Queen.she is- she is dying." The priest said hoarsely. The Pharaoh gave a strangled cry and leapt to his feet, running towards his horse.
~End Flashback~
The lights of the palace were growing. The two riders were approaching the rear of the palace, the side that faced the open desert. The three guards at the gate had recognized the royal crown glinting on the Pharaoh's head and the gate was open for them. They both rode straight through without so much as a glance to either side. The Pharaoh continued to gallop through the courtyard, the horse's hooves clicking on the marble floor of the tropical garden. The high priest followed at a slower pace.
Amenhotep reached the doorway to the palace; he dismounted from his horse with a wild leap. Leaving the confused beast at the entrance he rushed into the palace.
He rushed up the stone steps to the wing that housed all of the royal chambers. His was at the opposite end, rising majestically above the vast city of Waht-Smenkht. His heart hammered heavily against his chest. Each breath was strained, the dark anxiety hanging over him clouding his mind. The Pharaoh grew tense as he approached the bedchamber. A crowd of servant's milled around the door, faces distraught with worry. The Queen Tiye was well loved by her people and they would mourn- Amenhotep shook his head, trying to banish such thoughts; his wife would not die if he could help it.
But, of course, he could not help it, and such vows were just daring Osiris to do his worst. How could he resist a challenge like that?
The dark wooden door opened a foot, just enough to let the midwife slip through before she shut it quickly behind her. She gazed up at the Pharaoh, her light blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears and he knew the answer to his unspoken question before either found a voice. "I'm sorry your Majesty," she whispered. Behind him he heard servants gasp and some break out into gentle sobs. A wave of pain crashed down on him, blocking out all other sensations. She was dead.
She was dead.
She was dead.
She was dead.
No matter how he thought of it he knew it could not be true. It was just a cruel joke, he would open the door and there she would be, smiling, still flushed from labor, holding his son. He had imagined the scenario too often to have it messed up by a silly trick. He rushed past the midwife and yanked open the door.
And there she was. Her mouth trapped in a perpetual frown, her lips pale, mirroring the color of her face, which was whiter than the sheets that were no longer that color, having been stained dark crimson. Her amethyst eyes were lifeless, their sparkle gone, gazing into space.
She was dead.
And he could no longer deny it. He stood there for what seemed like a millenium. Staring at her, trying to find a way for this to be untrue. He walked towards her, his body moving automatically, while his mind tried to deny her death. He touched her cold, stony cheek.
"My lord," a small voice behind him spoke. He turned around numbly. Acaya the midwife stood there, holding a small bundle in her arms.
"Your son," she said meekly. She held out the squirming bundle. He stuck out his arms automatically. She looked at them incredulously, stepping forward to stand by him. She slowly adjusted his arms and set the child in them. Amenhotep found himself gazing into a pair of deep purple eyes, mirror images of his wife's but they were full of light and life. It was as if Tiye had transferred her life to this child when she gave birth to him, and he was as close to her as Amenhotep could get now that the Queen was gone.
A small click caused the Pharaoh to look up from his smiling son. The royal physician had just stepped through the side door carrying another bundle. This one wriggled around furiously. For a moment Amenhotep stood numbly, looking from one child to the other. Then the baby the physician was carrying started to wail. The poor man hurried over, looking frazzled and stuffed the baby in the bewildered Pharaoh's arms, his eyes meeting his king's for a brief moment before turning away.
"Your daughter my lord," he announced and quickly backed out the door. Amenhotep was left looking down at two identical faces and two pairs of burning Amethyst orbs. One pair was bright and sparkling, one dark and burning. The daughter continued to wail at an unearthly pitch and the poor Pharaoh was forced to set them both down on the bed so he could cover his ears. Surprisingly the boy did not join in the symphony of howling and remained calm. He grabbed one of his sister's flailing hands and cooed. She immediately quieted down, whimpering softly. Amenhotep could only sigh gratefully until his gaze rested on the other occupant of the bed.
"When-" Amenhotep began and stopped, choking down the unborn wail in his throat, refusing to succumb to the urge to wail exactly as his daughter had.
"When did she-" he started again, gesturing towards the bed, a lone tear slipping down his cheek. Acaya fortunately caught his meaning.
"She died right after your son was born," Acaya said gratingly, another tear making a salty track down the side of her face. "The girl had to be pulled from her body afterwards. We didn't know if she would survive but she pulled through. You should be very.proud Your Majesty."
"Yes," he whispered. Suddenly all of the pain became too much to bear, the weight of everything pulled him to the floor, where he sobbed and wailed just like his daughter had. Acaya gently gathered the twins in her arms and left the room.
~Two hours later~
Amenhotep woke with a start, instantly suppressing the urge to cry as reality dealt him another hard blow. He had woken for a reason; he felt he was deliberately pulled out of his dreams for some reason. There was a shadow in the corner. It was far past sundown and the room was full of shadows, but this one was different, darker. It seemed to absorb the light, pulling all shadows towards it to form a cloak of darkness mirroring the night sky, minus the bright stars. The Pharaoh sat up with a start. The dark form slowly pulled itself away from the wall. It was in the shape of a man. For a fleeting instant Amenhotep thought it might be an assassin, hired to dispatch of him, and found he didn't care. He had nothing left to live for and he was not afraid, he and his wife would be together in the after life. The figure now stood before him, though he could not see its face Amenhotep could tell it was looking at him by the way his skin prickled under the gaze. The figure had remained shrouded in a protective cocoon of shadow even though the moonlight was shining directly on it. Somehow the Pharaoh felt as if he were cowering from the shadow. He pulled himself to his feet and stood face to face with the darkness. Even the change in position did not help, he still felt as if the figure were looking down on him and he was determined to face his death bravely, without feeling weak. After a long drawn out silence the figure spoke, slowly and softly.
"You have a great amount of courage, for a mortal," he said. His tones seemed as smooth as velvet and as soft as it too. There was no mouth that the Pharaoh could see and the voice seemed to emanate from all corners of the room, "I have come to tell you of your children's fate, will you hear me?" It was not a request, the tone suggested he had better comply or else there would be trouble. There was a dangerous edge to this man, and it was certainly a man judging by the voice. Amenhotep nodded.
"The child your wife bore is mine," the figure began. The Pharaoh felt something stir in him, fiery anger shooting through the cold desolation.
"What?!" He demanded, "How dare you say something like that! Tiye would never!" His anger was getting the better of him, he no longer cared how dangerous this stranger was, what he said was unacceptable.
"You mistake me mortal. She is your child in body; I would not take credit for your creation. However, she is mine in spirit because I have shaped her that way." The shadow explained cuttingly his voice sharp enough to shred Amenhotep's anger, and the Pharaoh felt as if he was once again a child, being rebuked by one of his elders.
"What are you talking about?" Amenhotep demanded putting up a rebellious facade. The figure stepped away from him. The dark form of an arm separated itself from the body of the shadow. With a small flick the shadows fluttered away, like bats taking off into the night.
Before him stood a man dressed in dark clothes. His garb was all black, black pants tucked into black boots and a black sash around his waist. He wore no shirt, only a silver necklace with a silver Ankh hanging down on his well-defined chest. He had a scimitar buckled on his right hip and a dagger on his left, both tucked into the sash. Hard muscles rippled under the smooth tan skin of his arms that were partially hidden by the black cape around his shoulders. He looked to be only in his mid twenties.
Despite his young body his eyes looked old, older than the Pyramids perhaps, and full of wisdom. They were dark, midnight black and perfectly framed by his high cheekbones. His eyes seemed to absorb the light of the stars and the moon. Their wisdom was layered, collected from many lifetimes and Amenhotep could only see past a few of them before the darkness became too great to penetrate.
"You and your wife created her, certainly, but I have molded her soul and given her many of my gifts to help her in this life. She is protected by the Gods and is as one of them. You will protect her and treat her as is fitting for her rank in this world. You will refer to her as your daughter. You will not tell anyone of her powers or heritage, I will come for her when I deem she is fit to live in Our realm." He ordered quickly and quietly in much the same tone a commander would order an army. Amenhotep could only stare up at him.
"Who are you?" he demanded. Who was this man to order around a king of Egypt? However, underneath all of his self-righteous indignation he could feel cold fear creeping up though he refused to acknowledge it. Subconsciously Amenhotep felt that this man had every right to order him around but his conscious was denying that for lack of solid evidence.
"I am Osiris," the man said ethereally.
A.N.- Ok if you could stand it enough to read all the way to the bottom you must have some tolerance for it. Sorry if it's slightly confusing I'll go through later and edit it but for now just click on the little button in the bottom left hand corner of the screen. Honestly it's not that hard, humor me and tell me what's wrong with it! Pretty Please? Don't make me use my puppy dog eyes.
