Konton no Millennia

by Miss00Meg

The Pharaoh's patron goddess has resurrected herself in human form and is using Seto Kaiba to regain her Millennium Item and stop a new threat from exacting its vengeance on the pharaoh, not to mention the catalyst has a mind of her own!

20. Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter

A/N:  Don't have a heart attack, but yes, I'm finally updating!  No more author's notes until the end of the fic, though.  After that, there'll be a big long one summing up all questions/comments/complaints you might have until then, so it is now imperative that you put any and all comments/questions/complaints in your reviews.  I will answer all of it and explain my sequel for you.  Thanks.  And also, I'll let you know from who's perspective you're reading from in these chapters about ancient Egypt (they will be in first person, and the story unfolding before them will be as I have written everything before) as well am I going to include quotations at the start of certain chapters. Thanks for reading this far…I hope it's been worth it.  See ya at the end!  You're all so loyal; I'm going to make up for it in the end!

~Rena C.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Konton no Millennia

By, Rena Campbelle

Chapter Nineteen:  Abandon all hope, ye who enter.

"Our eyes met again, ah, I love the moment when I turn my eyes away from you; I know your feelings for me.

And I have the same feelings for you."

-Unknown

+~+Seto+~+

The sound of everyone's cries were deafening in my ears as the floor opened beneath us and we tumbled into a bright light.  I reached out for Rena and hooked my arm around her waist just as we fell.  But before I had even tightened my grip she had slipped through it.  No, she had disappeared out of it.  It was impossible though to find her, even if I had wanted to see the light surrounding us blinded us.  So I screwed my eyes shut and braced myself for the drop, hoping Rena would be safe.  My thoughts were soon cut short as I landed abruptly, the impact forcing the air out of my lungs.  My back went numb and I had the lightning-fast sensation of paralysis, I couldn't move my arms or legs.  Slowly though, feeling crept back into my limbs and I was able to stand, be it unsteadily. 

I ran my hands over my face, trying to get my eyes to focus on the sudden presence of light.  Eventually my vision returned, and then I started to become aware of my surroundings.  I was again in a dark room, though I noticed the glint of gold reflected by candles lit around the room.  Even stranger was that I was completely alone.  No trace could be seen or heard from the rest of our group.  

Just then, there was a sound of moving stone against stone, and footsteps echoed in the hallway.  My eyes flitted briefly around the room and I coiled myself to make a run for the shadows.  However as soon as my foot left the ground in a sprint, my body disappeared.  To this day I'm still not sure of how it happened, but as soon as there was a shift in my weight I became absolutely nothing.  The only experience I could ever compare it to was when Pegasus J. Crawford stole my soul from my body.  No pain coursed through me, as would have been expected—only doubt, the lack of existence knowing the fact that you were still real.  Only here my sight, my hearing, my senses were still alive, all with the exception of physical feeling.  But even then it was as they said; when one of your senses dies, the remaining become stronger, more adept, and never had I been so in tune with human emotion than when I had had my sense of reality stolen from me.  Without the ability to touch and discern definite boundaries of veracity, I was left susceptible to emotion, ranging thoughts of many colors and gradients, things I had barred myself from long ago.

Time I soon found was not a stable factor in this place, for as soon as I lost contact with my physical self, years melted into seconds, and everything was skewed and disoriented.  I found myself flung from the previous room and into the next.  I still regretted not having paid attention to my very first surroundings, for then if I had maybe I could've saved things.  If I had paid closer attention I could have saved them all. 

The hallway was lit with brilliant sunlight, filtering through open gaps in the wall.  The space itself was vast enough to house a small army; the walls made of smooth, +++++ marble and rose colored quartz, reflecting the sunlight with a gem-like glitter.  Purple cloth hung from the ceiling in decorative bolts, threaded with ancient Egyptian symbols and vibrant pictures of deities protecting the people of their Egypt.  Around the room were statues placed on alabaster pedestals of different gods and kings, of slender golden cats and lean ebony dogs.  The room was heavily inlaid with the thick essence of incense, though I could not breathe it in directly.

At the end of the aisle was a staircase of around eight steps, at the top of it had been placed a huge throne, fit only for the pharaoh of Egypt, inlaid with semi-precious stones and of course, gold set into the granite in such great quantities with such perfect craftsmanship the purple-gray rock could hardly be viewed beneath the glitter of the wealth of kings.  By it sat chairs of similar make, though smaller and less bejeweled.  Before the splendorous seats a small gathering of upper class Egyptian people had gathered in all their fine linens and jewelry, stepping as near the staircase as their positions in society would allow.  For now was there someone sitting in the pharaoh's seat, a boy of no more than twelve sat, surrounded by men both older and of greater wisdom. 

One of the men knelt beside the boy, placing both of his hands over the boy's.  Looking toward the ceiling, he whispered, "Father-god Amun, he who is hidden to gods and men, the great god, lord of all beneath his mother Nut, I give thee homage!  O Amun-Ra who dost rest upon Ma'at, as thou passest over the heavens every face seeth thee.  Thou dost wax great as thy majesty doth advance, and the rays upon all faces.  Thou art unknown, and no tongue hath power to declare thy similitude, only you thyself.  Now before you dost step a new son of your house, and now shineth thy face down to him, and serve him in your houses."

The man now stopped and looked at the boy, who too raised his eyes to the ceiling and said in a soft but unshakeable voice, "On this day of mournful joy I present myself before you as your son, the renewal of your light on this world.  Now that my own father hath joined you in your holy journey through the heavens as Osiris I take his place as the reborn Horus to see your will held in your Egypt.  On this day I claim myself to be the Great-god, the son of the hidden one on this earth and of the sun god, Ra, whom I take as my father.  Akhenamun is Pharaoh now."  Pausing the boy turned to look at the man, still clutching his hand lovingly.  "And my Oracle will be Djeten Wosret-ka-nen-nefrusennen.  My viziers," he acknowledged another two men, "Shall be Isesi Nacht-en-khepru and Nebeniwit Maa-inkheru.  They will serve as the advisors of my court."

"We will do what we can to aid you, my lord," Isesi vowed.

"Your coming of age has been marked with sorrows, good king," Nebeniwit interjected.  "The early death of your father was one of the darkest I have seen.  But now," he stopped to smile encouragingly at the boy.  "Egypt has a new king, a good king."  Isesi nodded beside him.

The boy sighed.  "Those my age would now be learning their father's craft, be it the pen, the adze, or the spear, but here I am the god for all my people."  He laughed nervously, but still retained his calm posture.

I could see the fear he held in his eyes, though he was skilled at masking it by the glaze of courage and wisdom not yet deserved of his years.  I watched in awe as the boy king was handed the crook and flail that was shown on all the bas-reliefs in every ancient Egyptian exhibit.  Then of course, the oddly shaped crown was placed over his head.  And it was not until then I noticed who this young boy reminded me so much of.  His eyes were glaringly violet and his hair, though tamer, was black tainted with a faint maroon, and his bangs seemed to possess a pale golden shimmer, setting him far apart from the dark haired, dark eyed servants. 

My newfound emotional complexes sprung up as I became protective of the boy, perhaps for the fact that I knew what it was like to struggle with childhood.  I understood the expectation to have to go from infancy to adulthood, and then to have only yourself to rely on.  He lost his father at so young an age, it wasn't right that he sit there, among the ranks of men more than double his own age.  It bordered on the nostalgic. 

Just then, a young boy, maybe a year older than Akhenamun stepped out from behind the Oracle Djeten.  My mind jumped for a few seconds as I remembered the name Megami had lamented for in the tomb.  It was possible that the two were the same. 

"I will stay by your side as well," this new young one said, kneeling beside Djeten. 

Djeten patted the new boy's head.  "Djeten Wosret-maa-ni-ib, my firstborn son, also pledges his allegiance to you once he comes into possession of the new priesthood."  The other Djeten nodded. 

Now, I was confused.  With the introduction of the new Djeten, how would I know which one was the one Megami mourned over?  It seemed important for me to find the man that caused Megami so much pain.  Rena had been affected by his loss too, as I understood, which made me even more intent to discover the identity of their shared grief.

Akhenamun smiled gratefully at the young Djeten.  "You have been my friend through much more than I can ever thank you for.  I will never forget how good you have been to me in times where I have been all but without hope."   

"It is my duty, Akhenamun," he murmured, bowing his head. 

The tender moment did not last, for again I felt a tugging from behind me, drawing me further from the conversation, and again into another dark room. 

Where I found myself now was another room, dark as the others had been, but light was more visible.  Candles flickered everywhere and at once the glimmer of gold and firelight caught my eyes.  I had become a spectator now; there was a heaviness settling on me and at once I knew somehow that this wasn't just our story now. 

"Remember life in lamentation…"

This was what had happened to us thousands of years ago.  All the questions I had…they'd be answered at last. 

+~+~+~+

Again I heard footsteps coming down a hallway.  Two men were walking towards me, though this time I wasn't as concerned about them seeing me.  For God's sake, I didn't even exist. 

"Yes, this is a very proud day for you, Djeten," the one said good-naturedly.

"It is," the taller of the two responded quietly. 

Hearing his name again, I was reminded of the urgency to learn who he was.  Megami had said he had given his life for her.  I didn't like the way this was developing already. 

"So then, do you believe you're ready for this task?" the good-natured voice asked. 

"All my life have I been bred for this position," he responded vaguely.  "If I am not ready then my father-god did not intend for it to be."

I really, really didn't like this.  I knew this voice, had known it all my life. 

"Well then, I shall leave you to your ceremony," the kindlier one of the two said and walked away before I could ever get a good look at his face.  But then I had a good idea whose voice his was as well. 

Then, the one named Djeten stepped into the light.  The best way I could describe seeing him was like looking into a mirror.  A very strange mirror that glimpsed into the past instead of the present, but nonetheless…that man had my face.  The weight I felt suddenly became heavier.  He was exactly my height, and our eyes had the same shape though his were a very dark blue, almost black.  His skin was darker than mine, tanned brown by the Egyptian sun.  His chest was bare and he was wearing a skullcap and one of those +++++ skirts that you see on the wall paintings.  His build was lean and athletic, like mine, and his face was set in a cold scowl, very much like mine. 

Djeten walked slowly across the room, my eyes following him the way a camera pans across the stage.  He stopped in front of an idol twice his height, clothed in linen, fresh offerings laid before its feet.  Djeten bowed low before it, a man bearing curved ram horns on either side of his head, that stared out past Djeten into an ethereal beyond, the firelight flickering against his numinous golden face. 

"I hope the father-god is pleased by his oracle's succession into your house," Djeten said boldly.  "Father-god Amun, he who is hidden to gods and men, the great god, lord of all beneath his mother Nut, I give thee homage!  O Amun-Ra who dost rest upon Ma'at, as thou passest over the heavens every face seeth thee.  Thou dost wax great as thy majesty doth advance, and the rays upon all faces.  Thou art unknown, and no tongue hath power to declare thy similitude; only you thyself."  His voice was terrible and powerful as he continued to praise his god. 

"Thou art One, even as is he that bringeth the tena basket.  Men praise thee in thy name, and they swear by thee, for thou art lord over them.  … Millions of years have gone over the world, and I cannot tell the number of those through which thou hast passed. Thy heart hath decreed a day of happiness in the name of 'Traveler'—" He stopped suddenly, his head snapping around.  "Who is there?" he called scornfully. 

"Djeten, would you still not be so kind to your faithful mentor?" a voice laughed raucously from the hallway.  Moving into the firelight, he held his hands casually before him.  Djeten relaxed as he came into sight.  He looked slightly taller than Djeten, chest bare save for a golden pectoral hung over his breast, and he wore a simple +++++ skirt, a more ornamented belt wrapped around his waist.  His head was shaved and he was wearing dark eyeliner like Djeten, only his eyes were a mahogany brown, nearly matching the tone of his flesh.

I stopped for a moment, staring intently at the man who had just entered.  He appeared so calm on the surface, so surreptitiously disarming despite his dark, mystical surroundings.  I recognized him as the other vizier in the Pharaoh Akhenamun's court. 

"Nebeniwit," Djeten nodded.  "Please forgive me—I only wish not to be so interrupted in the middle of my business."

"Of course," said Nebeniwit agreeably.  "I do understand the feeling.  But unfortunately, your appraisal must be cut short.  Your promotion is going to occur whether or not you are there to receive it.  Pharaoh is waiting for you." 

Djeten walked by him curtly, leaving the dark hallway for the world beyond.

+~+Yuugi+~+

I watched as the young priest passed Nebeniwit and walked out into the broad daylight.  Djeten's almost fixed likeness to Seto was unnerving, but it was nothing compared to the likeness I shared between Yami and Akhenamun.  I had seen Akhenamun's troubled eyes past mine every time I looked in the mirror.  Yami's soul had been infused into the Millennium Puzzle thousands of years ago, and if that were true, then this is what he truly looked like.  It wasn't pleasing to see that I had been made a paler, shorter, wimpier counterpart of my incarnate.

The scene spun and left the dark, cool temple chamber for the light and heat of the Egyptian sun.  Instead of the brightly lit palace of Akhenamun's coronation, I was in a new structure, though no less grand.  Tall alabaster columns lined an expansive courtyard, a long ritual pool sitting in a rectangular basin of marble and inlaid with gold, shining like the arms of Aten's rays, sat in place of a sacred lake.  Several lotus bushes and papyri plants had been planted along the far edge of the pool, creating an inlet of sacred water, not easily viewed by comers and goers in the temple where private rituals could be held without unwanted attention.  Behind me, two enormous pylons stood, flanking the two sides of the temple surrounding the colonnade courtyard.  On the walls everywhere were brightly colored paintings of the glories of the gods and many reliefs were there of pharaoh, making sacrifice to the gods, particularly to Amun.  I knew enough of ancient Egyptian mythology to be able to tell a few of the deities apart.  I knew Amun was the man with a great plume-like crown on his head, and it seemed there was not a way you could look where you could not see him standing against the walls, staring beyond the wearisome world, concerned with matters of a greater magnitude.

At the farthest end of the pool, away from the vegetation, a huddle of spectators had gathered similar to Akhenamun's coronation ceremony.  Only this time Akhenamun was the one conducting the services.  I recognized several noblemen from the previous ceremony, as well as Nebeniwit and Isesi, the viziers to the king, along with several priests, a leopard skin held amongst them.  Amid the small crowd of onlookers, stood Djeten, glaring as usual, who seemed to be the center of their attention.  Akhenamun stood next to him, wearing the two crowns of Egypt, carrying an ankh grafted in gold in one hand, and a pectoral inlaid with precious stones and inscribed with countless symbols, tales of novel length, in the other. 

Djeten was the least extravagant of all present, wearing only his simple linen skirt and papyrus sandals.  He wore no impressive cosmetics, not even his usual skullcap was with him, and his head was clean-shaven as were all priests present.  I couldn't help but enjoy the humor of seeing Kaiba's ancient look-alike's cranium shining in the sunlight. 

Akhenamun tapped Djeten's shoulder lightly, the young man bowed down before the pharaoh, while the equally young king tied the extravagant pectoral about his neck, no easy task seeing as how much shorter Akhenamun was compared to Djeten.  Then, Djeten entered the pool at the command of the pharaoh, wading in to his knees, and Akhenamun followed him, the water rising up nigh on his waist. 

"Djeten, you've made Egypt proud on this day," Akhenamun told him.  "And pharaoh is joyous to see you here in the eminence of my father-god.  So now do I baptize you in these waters, semblance of Nun and the creation of all things."  That said, he pushed Djeten's head deep under the water, and bringing him up, thrust him down again, and a third time when he had risen from the second.  Lowly he hummed one of the many religious songs of the priesthood, a hymn to the Nile and to Nun, who created the world from himself, rising out of the primeval wastes and becoming the father of all gods.  Djeten came up at last, gasping for breath as he cleared the primeval waters he had been dipped in. 

"The first step to the Initiation has begun.  All evil has been expunged from your self by these holy waters," said Akhenamun.  "Now do you partake in a ten day fast in the temple of Amun, Lord Djeten, to approve yourself before the god?"

Djeten nodded solemnly.  "I shall."

Akhenamun smiled heartily.  "Then come away from these viewers, let us go to where only the sanctified may step."  And he led him away from the others, Djeten still dripping from the wet.

Finally when they had reached the inner sanctums of the tomb, Akhenamun said, "It does please me and make me wretched to see you for the position of Oracle on this day," Akhenamun said dolefully. "To see your father the Osiris Djeten join those before him in the afterlife made my heart weep, but again, to see my truest servant, and closest friend," he added suddenly. "To see you take your father's place as the High Priest, the Oracle of Amun, moves me to joy.  I would not trust the position to any other, if any other did deserve it more than you."

Djeten spoke up quietly, "I have lived my life knowing this day would come.  The Osiris Djeten, my father, has raised me to take his place when he would leave the position to me."

"Do you not miss him?" Akhenamun asked quietly.

"I do as much as a son can miss his father," Djeten growled.  "But he was not a just priest, his word was not as strong as his religious strength."

"Silence Djeten, no ill will I allow you to speak of your father, the Osiris Djeten," Akhenamun demanded.  Djeten said nothing further. 

At last they stepped into the chamber of before, where the fully clothed statue of Amun stood, the choicest sacrifice laid before his feet.  Djeten kneeled before the feet of the statue as they entered. 

"Here is where you shall spend the next ten days with neither food nor drink, and if you are worthy Amun will come to you and fill you with his knowledge and spirit.  But do not partake of the god's food, and do not drink of his wine.  Share not his clothes, nor his incense, or the punishment will be far greater than any you can imagine." Akhenamun warned in a stoic voice.

"I could imagine a great deal," said Djeten dryly.  "I have no wish to steal what only Amun deserves.  Ten days will not sway my love for the gods, nor for my pharaoh." 

Akhenamun smiled faintly, and breaking his kingly statutes, he embraced Djeten.  "I know you won't Djeten, for you are like my brother, and are my closest friend."

"You have many friends," Djeten said, slightly stunned by the pharaoh's bold show of brotherly compassion.  "The soldier slave whom you once knew, and three more of his fellow friends.  Pharaoh would not forget them, or the princess Neferamun, whom you adopted as your sister."  Djeten named a few of Akhenamun's friends quickly, probably in attempt to free himself from the arms of the king.  

Akhenamun laughed.  "You are right again.  But now I must leave you.  May Amun find you worthy." 

"Thank you pharaoh," Djeten bowed low.  Smiling and issuing a last vote of confidence, the pharaoh turned and left, locking the stone door behind him. 

Hearing the resonating thump of the stone bar falling into place, Djeten kneeled before the feet of the golden idol; beginning to sing the two hundred verse hymnal he had been taught since he had first learned to speak.

I watched in awe as Djeten trembled before the statue, struck in wonder at his devoutness.  Djeten was a great and powerful man, loyal to his god and his king, whom he regarded as his brother; so much like Kaiba it was uncanny.  The scene contorted rapidly, and I now saw Akhenamun returning to his palace.  As he walked in a man charged at him, running past him, missing him by only a few inches.  Another, taller, man rushed out after the first, charging his companion, and tackling him to the ground. 

"Take it back, Kun!"

"Never!"

"Take it back!"

"NO!"

"NOW!"

The one named Kun, who was coincidentally, the victim of the brutal tackle, shouted in frustration.  "To take it back would be a lie, Ramsey, you great idiot!  Just admit to it that you spent a night in my sister's house!"

Ramsey blushed a deep red.  "I did no such thing!"  Picking himself up off Kun, the alleged visitor started shouting again, which soon turned into a small skirmish and then into an outright brawl. 

Akhenamun sighed, raising a finger to the bridge of his nose.  Kun was a servant, a low peasant Akhenamun had adopted as a friend in his youth, and they had stayed that way ever since.  Though he was loud, obnoxious, and slightly arrogant, Kun was a loyal and devoted friend, heedless of social boundaries.  Whenever they were together, which was often as Kun was one of the pharaoh's royal guard, Kun would wrestle with him and steal the crown from his head, fixing it upon his own and strutting about as his own kind of king while Akhenamun laughed at his friend's audacity, encouraged by it, and they would fool around as they had done when they were children, stealing the heads of the statues of the gods, taking apples from the sacred cattle, and running away to eat the juicy, rare fruit all by themselves. 

And Ramsey was his accomplice, like him a soldier of the royal guard, and the three of them together were a hard pair to match, unless Namen was with them, then they were invincible. 

And just then, the third soldier came outside, holding his side with one hand, and wiping away tears of mirth from his eyes, still chuckling to himself.  Again, Namen was a member of the pharaoh's guard, but he was of a higher rank, even though he was still partners' in crime with Kun and Ramsey.  "My lord," he grinned as he came forth.  "You should have seen it."  Namen looked over at Kun and Ramsey, who were still trying to beat each other bloody.  "My lord," he said again, bowing quickly.  Akhenamun waved it away dismissively.  He did not feel comfortable with his closest friends bowing before him when they had known each other for so long. 

"What has Kun done now?" he asked, uncertain of whether he honestly wanted his question answered.

"Kun accused Ramsey of sleeping in his sister's house," Namen snickered.  "And you know how Ramsey is."

"Of course," Akhenamun said.  "Ramsey became indignant and gave chase." 

"How else would it be?" Namen said, beginning to laugh again.

"How else indeed?" Akhenamun groaned.

+~+Jounochi+~+        

I could've sworn that I'd never let go of her hand, and yet, Mai had disappeared right out of my grip and I had lost her as we fell.  If she got hurt, someone was going to be beaten beyond recognition once I got my hands on them.   And not only Mai, but all the others as well.  Rena had fallen to pieces, and Yuugi had nearly gone into shock when he heard the psycho's voice that had done this to us.  Whatever "this" was, I had no idea, but so far my soul had been sucked out of my body and I had just witnessed a pint-sized version of Yami Yuugi become king of Egypt.

My attention was drawn soon though to three people walking down a hallway.  Two I recognized as Yami and Seto's past life people, and the third…the third was mine.  I sat (or floated) there in complete shock as the three people passed through me.  Getting ahead of them, I could see my pretty face shining out of every facet of this Egyptian kid.  He was exactly my height and slender width, and had my handsome, piercing eyes.  The only sad part was that all of my roguish blonde hair was missing and had been replaced by a black-haired wig or something.  But I still looked way better than Djeten. 

I realized suddenly that the three had been arguing amongst each other as I had been admiring my past self.  Coming about, I realized that Djeten and myself were having some kind of argument.

"I ask of you, no I beg of you my Lords, let me accompany you, just this once," Kun pleaded, more to Akhenamun than to Djeten, but it was Djeten who answered.

"It is not a place for servants!" Djeten reprimanded sharply. 

"I am no servant, but a soldier of the king's army.  And my Lord, I will be treated with respect," he answered coldly. 

"Such fair words should be backed by deeds," Akhenamun agreed.  "Come with us this once, Kun, and prove your service to your king."

"My service?" Kun asked warily.

Djeten allowed a small smile to slip.  "Has the brave soldier lost his guile?" he asked.

Akhenamun sighed.  "Djeten," he warned, and then looked at Kun.  "By your services I mean your protection of your pharaoh when we enter the Realm of Shadows.  It is not a safe place for either mortal or god and is ruled by the power of darkness."

"My Lord, then why do the nobles of the kingdom so often travel there?" Kun asked.

"We have for as long as I can remember, though the answer is unclear," Akhenamun said.  "I have never put great thought into the reason why we journey there, it has just always been a pleasant break from the trials of the day."

"I may know why," Djeten spoke up quietly.  "Knowing that my father did suffer his last breath there."

Kun looked at him in surprise.  "Your father died in the Realm of Shadows?"

"He did," the young man answered.  "He loved to go there and compete in the games that could be held.  For you see, the Realm of Shadows is a place controlled by the mind of the soul that goes there, and it was forged by Nun at the very beginning of the world as a place to keep all the sin and evil spent by it.  But as the sons of Ra became more powerful, they began to discover the secret to where the evil of the world did lie, and many hundreds of years ago, a great campaign was led against the entryway of the Shadow Realm, which had been closed by the gods, to keep the so easily corrupted mortal man from their great power.  But for once the gods did not succeed, and ever since that siege the Realm of Shadows was open to those with the strength of mind to command it, naturally, the pharaoh and his closest advisors. Only they have the spirit to control the deep evil of the shadows, transforming that seething menace into infallible power."  After his lengthy explanation, the young priest took a deep breath, relieving himself of a long time's tension.

"Such power, wouldn't it be too dangerous in the hands of mortals?  We are no perfect creatures," Kun pressed.

Akhenamun looked at him, sharing a look of displeasure and futility, as an old man that must surrender to his own age and frailty.  "The power of the Realm of Shadows is enough to give a man a taste of the immortality saved only for gods.  And once the taste of that sweet honey is felt on the lips, it never leaves, and men would do nothing to rid themselves of it when first the power of the shadows was tasted.  It became a drug, more potent than any created by a physician of Egypt, and too precious to let go.  Those who allow the darkness to leave them in turn never leave the darkness.  Reduced to half men, walking around blind to the light of the sun, they have become dependent of the shadows, playing the games and exercising that godly power until the darkness consumes them and either their own soul is wasted away to nothing, or another soul is waylaid in their striven attempt to find completion in what the evil has offered them."

Kun fell silent for a long, somber moment as they approached a wall on the far side of the palace.  With sudden realization, Kun realized that they had walked the length of the palace a great deal in silence without him and Djeten sharing many cross words.  Also did he notice that he was far back in the pharaoh's most private chambers, were before he had never been allowed ever.  He hadn't noticed the distance they'd covered very much at all, his mind was far too concerned by the portentous words of his king and lord priest.

"Pharaoh," he began softly. 

"It is all right, Kun," Akhenamun murmured in return.  "You may join us this time, so that you may see our point well-illustrated."  He walked ahead of them and drew from an ornate chest, on which the markings neither Kun nor I could read, Akhenamun retrieved three amulets all alike in appearance.  A black cord on which many glass beads had been hung, on which in the middle the uraeus snake coiled before unseen foes, surrounded on either side by the symbols of an eye, the primeval sign of the god Nun.  And I will never be able to explain how I knew that. 

"I advise you to keep this around your neck at all times," Djeten warned him.  "These amulets will keep your spirit safe from the dark of the shadows that surround us.  I assure you, you will be tempted to remove it but do not for fear of your mortal soul!  For the good of your friendship to the king, do no succumb to the will of evil," Djeten asked him.

Kun nodded.  "I won't, my Lord."  And he took the amulet and placed it around his neck, wrapping his hands around the coils of the gold snake hanging there.

Akhenamun stood before a panel that greatly resembled a false door in which the spirits of the dead could rise and take to the paths of the afterlife.  Standing quite proudly before the spiritual door, Akhenamun boomed a great command in an ancient tongue that I didn't understand, and suddenly a great flash of light surrounded them and for a few minutes, everything had become dark.

It took a while for me to realize that they had arrived to the Shadow Realm, because for a great distance all the eye could really see was blackness absolute and from all sides a pressure was felt as though a great host of wickedness surrounded them, chilling the blood and causing the heart to wail.

The curtain drew back quickly though as Djeten's voice in the dark shouted out, and the vile host disappeared though not completely, and their presence could still be felt, tearing at the bit all around them, far off as distant mist, but as chilling as ice bearing upon your bare back.  Djeten though, commanded the shadows most skillfully, directing them into shapes and light, unfolding to become a light breezeway, lined in glimmering crystal. 

"I believe, my Lord, that the Newcomer should play first, so that he can learn the game," Djeten suggested.

"And are you volunteering to be his contender?" Akhenamun asked with a slight smile.  Djeten grinned.

"I am not afraid," said Kun boldly before the priest.  "Bring at me what you may!"

"Then I bring unto you the Shadow Game of godly monsters and sorcery," Djeten said.  There was a great rumbling beneath the floor as many stone tablets rolled up from the ground, taking Kun quite by surprise.  The soldier jumped back, crying, "What magic is this?"

"This is no magic yet, only the coming of the tablets required for our duel," Djeten explained, almost arrogantly.  "The game is thus: we are chosen for us monsters that come to our call, depending on our spiritual worth, certain creatures come for only certain people.  That is, unless, you command a magic stone to allow to lay traps for your enemy or increase the strength of your forces.  As well can you sacrifice a monster to the darkness to summon another of greater power.  Simple, is it not?"

"It does seem as such," Kun sniffed.  "But how does one win?"

"Patience," Djeten smiled.  "You see the three crystal stones that hang above our heads?"  Kun looked up, and sure enough, his own face glinted back at him through the facets of three prismatic gems.  "When a monster is destroyed, a crystal shatters.  When one's crystals or life counters are gone, then the game is lost.  If you lose a shadow game, the victor may enforce a penalty game, though often this does not happen.  It is just a great incentive to win."

"I understand," Kun said hastily, not wanting to appear apprehensive before his rival.

"Then summon the stones," Djeten commanded to the arena.  With a moaning rumble, five great stones appeared before the both of them.  Kun looked at his assortment. 

"The stones with a star in their corners are magic tablets, and cannot be used to destroy your enemy.  When you wish to activate such a stone, lay your hand upon it, and it will become effective in the arena.  The rest you will learn as we play.  I shall make the first move."  Djeten stood back and purveyed the stones carefully, and then laying his hand upon one, said, "I summon the Jackal of Upuat on the arena."  The stone flipped around of its own accord and a foggy image of a fearsome jackal, its teeth bared wickedly, saliva flecking at the corners of its mouth.

Kun felt a shiver at the base of his spine, but he let no sign of it show to Djeten, and instead examined his own stones.  A fierce hawk glared at him, and so did a preening stork stare back at him curiously.  But those seemed to be the only creatures he had received on his turn.  But also was there a magic stone with a great circle inscribed on it as well a stone with a mystical-looking book carved upon it.  The last was a block that resembled an amulet, the shape of a beetle, like the sun god Khepri.  Not sure which monster or magic card to summon, he chose the hawk since it looked far more dangerous than the wizened stork.  Laying a hand upon it, he watched as the stone rumbled and the hawk sprung forth aloft. 

"The War Messenger of Horus," Djeten nodded.  "A good choice for a novice.  Though tragically," he touched another stone and it fell up before him.  "Not so good is he when you do not understand how to use his abilities."  The stone flipped over to reveal a boar, charging ahead.  "I summon Rush Recklessly, a magic card to double the Jackal's power.  Now, Jackal of Upuat, attack the War Messenger of Horus with all the power of the pharaoh's army!"  The jackal leapt up towards the Messenger of Horus and pinned the bird down, biting into its neck with its mighty jaws.  The bird let out a screeching cry and disappeared.

Above Kun's head a crystal shattered.  "What sorcery is this?" He asked wildly, throwing up his arms as shards of crystal clattered down around him.

"This is a Shadow Game," Djeten replied very coolly.  "In this game, certain magic cards can be used to increase a monster's strength.  Other monsters, like War Messenger of Horus, have special capabilities already, for example the War Messenger cannot be attacked by any other servant monsters of the gods if his power is invoked.  Had you activated it, the hawk would have been spared."

"I did not know this!" Kun protested. 

"It is written upon the stone," Djeten exclaimed.

"I…I cannot read the markings," Kun murmured softly.

Djeten almost laughed.  "Then you will not go very far if you do not know what your stones can do."

The floor rumbled and another stone appeared before Kun.  "What is th--?" he began.

"Every time your turn is ended you gain another stone," Djeten explained quickly.  Kun nodded.  His new stone was another monster, an Apis Bull.  He was able to figure out that he would have to send another monster to the field, but which one?  He looked over them carefully.  Slowly he held out a hand, and shakily commanded the ibis, "Come forth, monster of stone."  A low call issued from the depths of the stone, and from it emerged the wise ibis. 

"The Wise Messenger of Thoth," Djeten nodded.  "You have had luck with your stones, Kun." 

Kun gazed up at the magnificent bird, his confidence restored.  "Go then!" he cried.  "Attack the beast of the high priest!"  The stork set off, its black-tipped beak aiming for Jackal of Upuat. 

"Mystic Negate," Djeten responded coolly.  A prism-like shield appeared before his monster and the ibis flew straight into it and with a strangled caw, burst into flame.  Flapping its wings weakly, it sunk through the ground, and another crystal above Kun's head was shattered.

"Now Kun, this is why you shouldn't have challenged me!" Djeten reprimanded.  "Now, Jackal of Upuat, destroy his final crystal."  The monster leapt with ferocious and terrible grace, and the crystal was burst into glittering fragments.  Kun gasped for breath as the Shadows moved closer to him.  They seemed to beckon about him, persuading him into a deep rest.  Pulling around him, it offered false comfort.  Unwittingly, he stepped towards the growing shadows. 

"Kun, stop!" Akhenamun shouted.  With a gasp Kun stopped, but too close to the darkness. The shadows leapt up to him and in them he could see the faces of tormented spirits, ghastly and horrifying.  Suddenly, something twitched upon his chest—the amulet.  The uraeus snake twisted itself magically upright, and let loose a ball of flame into the dark, casting away the evil shadows.  Kun felt at a lack for breath, and behind him came a raucous cackle. 

"Kun, you fool," Djeten laughed.  "You pathetic servant!"

"That is enough, Djeten," Akhenamun barked.  Laying a hand on Kun's shoulder, he asked, "Are you all right, my friend?"  Kun did not respond, only he glared coldly at the floor.   

I watched in stony silence as the scene faded, Djeten's wicked smirk burned into my mind.          

+~+Yuugi+~+~

Again years melted into seconds and I was faced with an open view on a palace balcony made of +++++ alabaster.  It glowed and pulsated in the heat of the sun, to the point where the distance became a liquid blend of the shades of the sand and the mud brick buildings below.  In the distance, the Nile River sparkled like a blue ribbon against the horizon; a breeze drifted across the threshold into the palace itself.  Two men stood on the edge of the balcony, their backs facing me, engaged in conversation. 

Inside myself I could feel Yami twinge at last, and I just now became aware that he hadn't even been with me.  And he was fading.  Yami, I said nervously.  He couldn't leave me, not now, not when I was learning his past, not when our lives were at stake; he couldn't!  He was my support, my strength, and without him I felt abandoned.

I…I am sorry aibou, he murmured softly.  For thousands of years, I couldn't remember, and in five minutes time I can see it all again as it happened.  And then, he receded into the farthest depths of our mind, a nadir I did not realize was accessible in our soul, and I could not even sense the faintest vestige from our soul link.  Had I tears to cry I would have, but now I realized, without his presence, I had only myself to rely on.  I would support myself, and prove to him, and more importantly to myself, that I could be strong, even when I am alone.

Looking up, I watched melancholically as the two men talked amongst each other.   Slowly I "floated" over to them, and immediately I recognized them as Djeten and…I felt as though all of me had clenched into a tight knot.  Yami…Djeten was talking to Yami.  

A golden armband curled around the flesh of Akhenamun's left arm and around both of his lower arms identical gold-plated leather armbands were wrapped.  At the entryway into the palace I saw a crown like the Egyptian kings used to wear that was in all the textbooks.  A crook and flail were also thrown carelessly next to the crown. 

"The bounty of the Inundation was great this year, Djeten," pharaoh Yami said.  Unlike Kaiba's incarnate, his image was retained entirely except for a few slight differences; his eyes were the same crimson-violet as always, though they lacked the intent wisdom that the Yami he knew had accumulated over his five thousand years rest, but the look and aura of a king emanated around him, on his brow sat the wisdom of a new king and in his hand was the strength of a fresh soldier.  Their height was unchanged though his complexion was tanned brown and his hair was tamer, his bangs run through with a faint gold glimmer it fell around his shoulders in plaited layers, maroon and black and maroon again.  Godlike and quintessential, he held himself proudly against the breeze that played at his hair and skirt. 

Djeten leaned against the balustrade rigidly, staring hard at the city below them.  He too was wearing a +++++ skirt and a gold pectoral inlaid with hieroglyphs of precious stones, the same from his ceremony before.  A golden snake wound around his left arm, and his eyes had been exaggerated with a dark black line.  A skullcap was tossed haphazardly on top of his head.  "It is a fair omen," he replied icily. 

The Pharaoh Yugiou smiled at his friend.  "Take ease, my Oracle," he responded heartily.  "For today is a celebration.  For five years now have you led my Egypt in strong praise to the Hidden One, our Father-god Amun.  For five years we have lived happily in his reign.  Such guidance takes superior talent, my good friend."

Djeten sighed irritably.  "But five years of praise have not eradicated the Shadow Games.  Men who long for the power they once possessed are forcing entry into the Realm where even gods would fear to tread.  It is an addiction; they cannot receive enough and our Father-god has not involved himself.  It is beyond even his power to silence the evils of mortality," the High Priest said.  "Lust, jealousy, pride, evil, all are curses of our race."

Pharaoh laughed.  "But even you, Djeten the Oracle of Amun, are prideful.  And none can defeat you when you play the Shadow Games."

"It is my curse," the young priest smiled.  Suddenly his expression cleared and became colder, his eyes coated with a sheet of ice, as he whispered threateningly, "But even I who am so skilled in the Games know their real power.  The darkness of the shadows consumed the souls of both our fathers."  The pharaoh nodded despondently.  He brightened though, and clapped his hand upon Djeten's shoulder, the priest flinching at the contact. 

"Come now," Yami said cheerfully.  "We must prepare for this evening.  Wear your purest linen and the leopard skin that shows your rank, tonight you dine by my side."  Yami gave his lifelong friend his most courageous grin.  Djeten could not spare himself his own smile. 

"Pharaoh Akhenamun of Egypt, the Good-god, I accept your invitation," Djeten bowed and walked away, a soft tinkling of gold trinkets bumping into each other following behind him as he walked. 

Akhenamun, I thought to myself.  That was my yami's true name.  I would repeat it softly to myself until the day we returned home from Egypt, but I could not remove the words from my mind; Akhenamun, the Pharaoh of Egypt.  And I was part of him.

+~+Mai+~+

I was scared.  I was really, really scared.  And trust me, if your body disappeared right out from under you and you were completely alone, not sure if you were alive or dead, you'd be scared too.  I couldn't feel, only witness, as scenes played out before me like a movie, and I was right in the middle of it, watching things unfold. 

I wasn't stupid; I was at least able to figure out that I was witnessing Yami and Seto's memories.  It became a little obvious when Pharaoh Pointy-Hair and High Priest Overdone Eye Makeup were talking about Inundations and omens and all that.  But I wasn't concerned with them; I wanted to know where my friends were.  Not having Jounochi there to protect me was agonizing, not that I'd honestly admit it, but damn there was nothing more I wanted then than to have his arms around me, sheltering me, letting me know that I was safe.  And I wanted some kind of assurance that Rena was safe.  She of all of us was the one everybody wanted dead, her and Yami, but Yami was used to death threats.  I just wanted some small clue that she was okay. 

I suppose I don't really have to mention that I also wanted a clue as to why the hell I was dragged into the whole memory mess as well, do I?  But of course my question was answered sooner than I'd have expected. 

The scene had shifted from the balcony and now I was out in the middle of a kind of metropolis, and there was nothing to be seen of modern standards anywhere.  Craftsmen were busy working their trade, and women bustled about, heavily laden with large baskets of various things.  There was no busy marketplace as I would have expected, only many people going about their daily duties, like some extended house.  It was definitely noon, the sun shone directly above me though I couldn't feel it, and there was a sharp glare in the distance.  It looked like the sunlight was coming directly off the pyramids, reflecting off of the +++++ stones that they had been covered in. 

The inside of the court bustled with priests, soldiers, servants, and life.  People of all sorts walked by, ranging from priest to slave, each more incredible and outdone than the next.  Finally, the laughter of three familiar guards caught my attention, and I drifted over.  I had become used to the strange sights, especially after seeing Yami in a skirt and Seto hairless and with eyeliner, but here, what can I say?  I wasn't prepared for this.

When the three had rushed out of the palace before, I hadn't quite been paying attention; I had been far more distracted by my own misery.  Here, two of the three of them had turban-like wraps on their head to prevent damage from the sun, but the third wore his hair loosely over his deep brown eyes.  It took a great deal of my will power not to try to run to him, but this man was the same.  He had Jounochi's eyes, and his hair fell in just the same irritatingly messy way I loved.  It was much darker, lighter brown, but still his.  Examining the other two closely, one was sure enough Rena's friend Andre with a tan and the other, doubtlessly Honda.  Even millennia before they were known as Jou and Honda, these two had remained friends.

"Hey Kun," Honda (or at least it seemed to be Honda) nudged the blonde man on his right.  "Did you meet Neferamun last night?"

"Ramsey!  Dare you talk about my business where curious ears can hear you?"  He plucked his turban up off the ground and threw it at Honda/Ramsey.  Ramsey dodged it, but it knocked off his own turban, a flash of brown-black hair showing before he snatched it and placed it firmly on his head.

A servant boy came up to them, giving them each a bowl of broth that resembled sewage a great deal.  The Andre look-alike sipped at it in disdain, while Kun and Ramsey slugged it down and helped themselves to more. 

Some things never change.

After having eaten enough for at least ten apiece, the two stood up and started walking, the third soldier following along behind.  At length, Andre the soldier came up behind Kun and whispered, "Kun, isn't that Neferamun over there?"  He was pointing to a woman wrapped in silks, inspecting a piece of jewelry being held up by a goldsmith. 

I had a bad feeling about this… 

"Namen!  Keep quiet!" Kun silenced his friend, as he walked over to the woman, he looked at the jeweler and asked.  "I trust my dagger hilt shall be complete soon?"

The goldsmith raised his eyebrows at him curiously and Neferamun, breaking out of her shocked stupor, looked at him and hissed.  "Ignore my presence here, do you understand?  These men are my escorts."  The smith bowed low and muttered, "My shop is honored by your presence, Lady."

Neferamun strode away with Kun hot on her heels.  Ramsey and Namen followed behind, reminiscent of the days where Jou and I would walk together, Honda straggling behind for lack of anything better to do. 

"What were you thinking, Kun?"  Neferamun started suddenly.  She turned around, a displeased scowl marring her lovely face. 

"I'm sorry, my lady.  When I saw you…I…I," he stammered, looking to Ramsey and Namen for help. 

"You gave me away is what you did!  I'm not to leave the palace without escorts and still the royal faction finds a way to follow me!"  She stopped to poke him in the chest.  Kun was at a complete loss for words. 

I knew who this was, like I said, I'm not stupid.  And I'll admit, I liked her style. 

"And what if rumors started?" she lowered her voice to a whisper.  "Do you know what Pharaoh would do to you?  Do you know?"

"I have an idea," Kun admitted.

"He's a king and you're a soldier!  I don't care what your rank is, he could have you executed!"  She looked at him, sadness welling in her eyes.  "And I don't know what I'd do with myself if I didn't have you."

"Let's get you to the palace," Kun smiled, and with that, they set off for the gates. 

A pain slowly crept into my heart as I watched them walk into the palace, standing closer together than social standards called for.  It reminded me of my own Jou.  Slowly I began to feel the true importance of these memories.  They weren't just for Rena or Yami or Seto, they were for all of us.  Why we all had come so close together.  It was because thousands of years ago we had known each other. 

I watched solemnly as Kun, Ramsey, and Namen accompanied Neferamun into the citadel.  Immediately gold, lapis lazuli, and idols greeted the eyes of visitors, priceless articles stacked upon each other in glinting rows.  It was a mark of high status, the boasts of royal power.  Slaves and servants bustled where no one else could see.

Finally, he stopped when an all too familiar voice rang out.  "So, there you are Neferamun!  I was afraid I'd be forced to send out a search party!  But you have a knack for losing yourself in the city, don't you?"

"Mighty Akhenamun, I beg your forgiveness," Neferamun said, bowing low to the floor.  Kun, Ramsey, and Namen were on their knees as well.

The pharaoh laughed.  "Come now, rise up from the floor.  We are all friends here."

The four looked at each other with relief, and picked themselves up off the floor.  Finally, Neferamun lifted a hand to pull away the silk scarves wrapped around her head, and shed the linen robe around her shoulders.  Her black hair spilled down her back, landing past her waist, and her eyes glimmered a shade darker than my own.  Nonetheless though, it was me. 

"Well, Neferamun?" the pharaoh chuckled.  "Did you find anything worthwhile?"

"Nothing truly worthy, only a few trinkets," Neferamun sighed, holding up several pieces of jewelry that would have fetched almost hundreds of thousands on today's market.  Thousands of years couldn't change my shopping habits.  She pulled away her cloak, and walked up to him silkily.  Her clothes shone golden against the darker brown of her skin, but consisted of no more than a linen veil wrapped around the lowest point of her hips, with nothing else but a thin undergarment underneath, and her top did no justice to modesty. 

Kun and Ramsey gaped at her ensemble, but soon turned their eyes away after the warning look Pharaoh gave them.  He gave them an untranslatable smile then said, "Now where is Djeten?  I suppose he's in the temple, conducting the midday ceremony."

"It would make the most sense," Namen reasoned.  Kun shuddered slightly.  "Or maybe he speaks in private conversation with Amun.  Djeten frightens me some, he spends so much time in his temple, his skin has become far paler than ours and his eyes much colder."

"Now, Kun, you know that's not true.  His skin is only lighter than ours by a few shades, and besides, he has handsome eyes," Neferamun smiled. 

"But aren't my eyes handsome?" Kun protested mockingly. 

"Ah, but your eyes are always hidden under that mat of hair," she gave him a look afterward telling him to stop being so tactless.  She truly didn't want their affection being given away.  Running back to Pharaoh, she took him by the arm and led him out to a great stone construction, standing equal with the Pharaoh's house.  Depictions of godly battles and events were carved onto the walls, and a new one was being inscribed about the mighty Lord Horus's triumphant victory over Set.  Horus stood over the defeated god of chaos, a mace held over his head.  Neferamun led them out to the colonnade courtyard where I had seen the priest first baptized in holy nun waters, if that meant anything. 

"Wait here," Akhenamun said.  "Djeten probably lingers in the innermost chamber, I do not want your presence to offend my Father-god."

Despite the accusatory words the Pharaoh spoke, all four of them seemed to understand perfectly, and smiled as he walked into the temple. 

"Pharaoh!" Neferamun said suddenly.  "Please ask Djeten if my offering to Hathor was burnt and my prayers received, would you?"  Akhenamun nodded as he walked up the stone steps.

Entering the first room, the scent of warm meats and the fragrance of fresh lotus assaulted his senses, the offerings to the gods from the people of this city.  Everywhere the patrons of the gods could be seen, priests and priestesses, some accompanied by their own servants to aid them in the rituals that they would have to perform that day.  Most of them were men, clean-shaven wearing a linen skirt adorned with gold jewelry, but women could be seen about as well, their +++++ dresses knotted over their left shoulder, clean-shaven as well, though they wore heavy makeup and gold jewelry as well a wig made from thin black fibers, too downy to be human hair.  Several were standing before the statue of a goddess with cow's horns, shaking ancient looking rattles, singing a soft lulling mantra, as gentle as lullabies sung to infants in their sleep.  Sunlight flooded through windows too high up for the commoner to see through, filtering through the rectangular windows like a golden canvas, pulled over the high temple walls, giving light and warmth to those who praised the gods in that expansive room.  But this place of glorification and sweet-smelling odor was not where the High Priest was, and the Pharaoh proceeded further into the building.   

He walked down a dark hallway, dimly lit by the portentous flickering light of torches.  Finally, the Pharaoh came onto an elaborate walkway, lit by fire.  A tranquil pool ran beneath the bridge, and then opened up into a room lit brilliantly by reflected sunlight and torches from the surface of the water.  Seven idols stood on the far end of the room, positioned in their own conclave, alters filled with fresh offerings before each of them.  And in the center, the tallest of the golden idols was placed, the prince of the Egyptian gods, Horus; a man standing stiffly before it.  He wore what looked like a long +++++ coat and skirt, and a heavy gold breastplate hung from his chest.  Around the alter were placed the choicest bits of all the meats, the flowers were still in bloom, and the linens it had been dressed in had probably been woven just the other day.  The priest clapped his hands together twice, and took an armband from his wrist and the pectoral from his chest, and laid it before the feet of the idol in offering, his movements crisp and well practiced from the years of his service.    

I knew that stiff, unyielding posture in a heartbeat, High Priest Overdone Eyeliner, aka Kaiba.

Turning away from the idol, Djeten reached for a small broom by the feet of the god, and backing away from the idol slowly, swept his footprints from the shrine.  Standing several steps before the pharaoh, he relinquished his cleaning, and lay down the broom, then faced the young pharaoh.

"So Djeten, what do the gods have in store for my Egypt?" Akhenamun asked pleasantly.

"Your pleasantry is disconcerting, sire," Djeten replied coolly.  The royal blue eyes held more turmoil than usual.  "Such joviality is not befitting for a king." 

"Your words trouble me, my friend," Akhenamun admitted.  "Partially because they are so true.  My duties call for my solidity and steadfastness.  But my youth calls for joy and ecstasy."

Djeten allowed a small smile to grace his face.  "The gods are in turmoil, and my heart is turned by their unease.  Set still broods over his defeat against Horus, and I fear the worst if he decides to exact vengeance for what was taken from him."

"Can the almighty gods not deal with the revenge of Set?" Akhenamun asked him.

"But it won't be against the gods," Djeten sighed, turning back to the idol.  "It will be against Egypt and all her people."

"If such is true, the power of the Shadow Realm will be employed.  We will stand by the noble Horus before the god of chaos," Akhenamun decided. 

"What good will the Realm where even gods would fear to tread bring to us should Set choose Egypt for his revenge?" Djeten said coldly.  "Their power we do not understand.  The games would have to eradicated."

Akhenamun purveyed Djeten carefully.  The young priest it seemed was committed to ending the Shadow Games.  It puzzled the pharaoh how this obsession filled his friend, but instead of examining the question further, he said, "Come now Djeten.  Tonight we mark five years of truthful service that you have given to my Egypt."  Reluctantly, Djeten allowed the pharaoh to lead him away from the temple and back to the palace.

+~+Rena+~+

The scene exploded as soon as the doors to the palace opened.  Dancers and musicians, performers and partygoers all traversed the stage of the extravaganza.  The pharaoh had spared no expense for his friend, who, judging by the way all the color had drained from his face, was not expecting such a bacchanal.  He was greeted with warmth, laughter, and praise, dancers coming to his side and leading him to a high-backed chair beside Akhenamun's who was laughing at the horrified expression on his friend's face. 

For me, seeing Djeten sitting so close to Akhenamun out of sheer discomfort while he sipped disdainfully at the wine that was served him was riotously funny…the sheer Seto-ness of his actions comforted me.  It was as though despite he and all the others were no longer with me in this memory, their presence could still be felt around me.  It sounds ridiculous, but when your body disappears from beneath you and the other half of your soul deserts you in order to avoid reminiscing the past, you cling to whatever you can come up with.  Megami's last few words still rang clearly in the annals of my own mind.

I'm sorry Rena…don't make me do this.  I betrayed you then…you and Djeten…  Megami started to fade.  I was so selfish then…tell me you'll forgive me… that you won't hate me by the time this is over… 

How could I hate you, Megami?  I thought to myself. 

All around them the palace spun and twirled with life.  Performers juggled wine bottles and relics while children watched in awe, jumping up and down in rhythm with the actor's hands, the S-shaped side lock that was so popular for children to wear bobbing up and down the side of their heads.  Guests lounged around in stools or on cushions, facing tables heaped with quantities of meat, fowl, breads, vegetables, and fruits, and the beer and wine was passed freely.  Everyone was garlanded and decked out in their finest accessories, rope upon rope of beads and gold glinted from their ears and arms and legs.  Music was played freely, tunes churned from a band of lutes, harps, and double-sided flutes, encouraging the artistes egyptiennes to continue their play.

Women stood around, apart from the men on the other side of the room, examining their wigs and make up in polished silver mirrors, calling to servant girls to retouch their lips with henna or spread kohl around their eyes where it was needed, while the servant girls daydreamed of adjusting a perfumed wig on her own head. 

Dancers swayed before groups of drunken men, twisting and tempting them with their flippant seductiveness, teasing them with something they would not have.  Laughing and singing as the wine flowed to their brains, the men broke out into chorus, helping themselves to still more beer.  Still others danced playfully with the children and among the women, performing for them with their acrobatics and limber tumbling.

Even Pharaoh Akhenamun had deserted his crook and flail to give his attention to one of the dancers.  She looked poorer than the rest, her black either hair or wig shorn in a jagged line above her shoulders while she dipped gracefully, throwing the pharaoh furtive looks out the corners of her eyes.  Finally, he motioned for her. 

Smoothly, as not to disturb the perfume cone sitting on top of her head to further entice audiences with its sensual scent, she came over to him, bowing at his feet. 

"What is your name?" he asked her suddenly.

"My name is Anumet, Lord of Both Lands, the son of Ra, Pharaoh Akhenamun," she replied hastily. 

Akhenamun laughed, his laughter taken up by those in the room.  "Pharaoh alone is title enough, wouldn't you think?" he said at last.  She looked at him curiously, wondering how this man was so successfully resisting the pheromones she emanated so freely.

"Yes my Lord," she crooned.

"Tell me, Anumet," Akhenamun started up suddenly.  "Why do you take such a career as dancing?"

She blushed unintentionally.  "I do not do it for the pleasure of sensuality, but for the thrill that the music fills me with, how it urges my whole body to respond to the trill of the lute…" She stopped suddenly, silenced by embarrassment. 

"A worthy reason, Lady Anumet," the Pharaoh said quietly.  "Perhaps…perhaps I could interest you in staying by my side tonight?"

"I have my duties," Anumet said apologetically.  "But I shall visit with you again."  Grinning pleasantly, she danced away from him, her steps less erotic than before.  Stopping before a group of children, she did a back flip before them with ease, dancing off with a legion of infantine followers behind.  Akhenamun watched her dance away.  It was her duty to make sure his guests were well entertained, as it was of all the performers there, and Anumet was doing a very good job.

"Speaking of duties," Akhenamun said to Djeten, who had been watching their conversation intently.  "I have something to present for your servitude."  Djeten set his wine down, his body suddenly becoming rigid.  He shot Akhenamun a look out the corner of his eye. 

"I need no harlots," he said bitterly.  "If this is your idea of a sick joke.  Women I forswore with my priesthood, as my father swore to."  His eyes hardened.  "And I will not go back on my word as he did."

"Yes, but with his sacrilege, came one of the greatest assets I have ever been blessed with.  You, Djeten, are an honor to me in my court," Akhenamun looked at him in the piercing way that was Yugiou's own trademark. 

My senses suddenly flared up as a man walked up behind the pharaoh and Djeten.  I had heard his voice earlier—had been chilled by his acrimonious smile, the one named Nebeniwit. 

"Why pharaoh, are you not going to give Djeten the prize we have won for him?" Nebeniwit asked teasingly.  Djeten shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

"Ah, I had not yet mentioned," Akhenamun said suddenly.  "The idea was partly Nebeniwit's!"

"The strangest of things happened while I was on my way to the temple of Eset and Satenre," Nebeniwit mentioned excitedly.  "A woman, beautiful by compare to only Eset herself made her way by me in the street.  She seemed to come from the temple, judging by her linen habiliment, but she wore no wig, her hair was natural, so I thought her to be only an extraordinarily well-kept slave—perhaps a harlot—but no, she did not belong to any temple and she denied harlotry.  I inquired of her around the city and none have seen her here before, save several prominent farmers on the Nile near the city's gates.  They say she rose up from the Nile, and came into Thebes the day before.  I was tempted to take her for myself, but…" Nebeniwit caught the sharp, fleeting look Akhenamun gave him.  Djeten did not notice it; he was too busy looking mortified.  "Pharaoh convinced me to turn her over to you as an assistant in your daily rituals."

"Be on your guard against a woman from abroad, who is not known in town, do not know her carnally: she is a deep water, whose windings one knows not," Djeten warned.

"I told you my friend, this woman is not for bedding," Nebeniwit laughed.  "But to act as your servant, aiding you in services."

"I do not need an assistant for anything," Djeten replied scornfully. 

"Perhaps," said Nebeniwit mischievously.  "But you will have trouble denying her aid once you have at last laid your eyes upon her.  And what is more, she is not like other women.  Perhaps she is too independent, her will is stronger than a woman's should be.  Perhaps…" At this, he paused pursing his lips in thought.  "She is too much for you to handle with your demanding life.  I could take her in and teach her to be a proper priestess, and then deliver her to you as a—"

"That's quite enough Nebeniwit," Akhenamun laughed with his vizier.  "Where is Djeten's servant?  I have yet to see her face.  Beauty comparable to Eset, you say?  All extraordinary women of strength and beauty can be likened to the good Mother of Horus.  But what is she next to Satenre, the Daughter borne from the Light of Heru?"

"You shall see."  At this Nebeniwit narrowed his eyes, grinning to himself.  "Akhten!  Woman, come here!"

At this, I stopped cold, fully realizing just why my senses had become so alert, and why I had been by the Nile before my body disappeared along with Megami, it had been the moment when Akhten had come to Nebeniwit (though still I witnessed the incarceration of the pharaoh, and Djeten's initiation).  My senses had flooded then too with nostalgia even though I'd never seen these people before.  But then, I had looked into Djeten's eyes a hundred times through Seto's. 

From the other side of the room, a crowd of people was opening up to let a woman slip through the center of them, working her way slowly towards Nebeniwit.  I choked…I knew now why Megami called me Akhten more than she did Rena.

Walking towards them with a stiff air of confidence that no other woman in the room possessed she came at them, her shoulders matching the rhythm of her hips as she glided towards them.  Her hair was black except for two golden attachments on each side of her head, and her eyes were a glaring violet.  Her skin was naturally dark olive in color, the way mine can get if I stay out in the sun way too long.  She was gorgeous, but her natural beauty was flawed slightly by her overconfidence.  A conceited smirk was on her lips, and her eyes carried an icy charm.  Her top slid smoothly off of her shoulder, dipping down to reveal the curve of her breast.  Her sarkhotis was like that worn by priestesses, the thin, +++++ skirt floating breezily about her ankles.  A gold armband curled around the flesh of her arms, her only other adornment was a thin gold chain wrapped around her head, a silver-+++++ moonstone dangling between her eyebrows. 

Djeten looked rather impressed as well.  He looked at her apprehensively, as the pharaoh studied her closely then burst into a fit of riotous laughter. 

"By the beard of Osiris," he laughed.  "Has the Daughter Satenre graced us with her visit?  They are alike in face and form, how can you not tell the servant from the goddess?"

Akhten smiled softly as she realized the extent of the pharaoh's laughter.  "You laugh to relieve your tension," she noticed.  "My likeness to Satenre troubles you, does it not?  My name is Akhten-He-Shesat.  I was summoned here as relief priestess to the High Prophet of Amun, is this true?"

"Good Akhten, you were," Nebeniwit said softly.  His tone had become noticeably softer, more gentile. 

Akhenamun coughed to stop both his laughter and his shock at how coolly this woman treated him.  "This is Djeten Wosret-maa-ni-ib, the First Prophet to the God, Oracle to the King.  He is in reverence with Amun and—" 

"And that is enough title-spewing," Djeten said irritably.  Akhten turned her gaze on him, staring at him questioningly. 

He looked at her, meeting her eyes for an ephemeral second, then looked away.  "Not only do you speak with your eyes, Akhten-He-Shesat, but you manipulate the mind with them as well."

Akhten smiled approvingly.  "Where shall I wait for you, my Lord Djeten Wosret-maa-ni-ib?" 

Akhenamun and Nebeniwit smiled at each other as Djeten replied, "Outside my quarters until it is time for my evening prayers."

Akhten nodded, bowing low to the ground, her breast peeking into view as she backed away from them and left the room. 

I would have thrown up on my shoes had I known were the hell my legs were.  Akhten was self-righteous and egocentric, talking down to a pharaoh as if he were her own servant.  Jesus, was I like that?  Supposedly, Megami had modeled her incarnate after herself, but I wasn't that bitter, at least not anymore.

+~+~+~+~

Djeten walked up to the entrance to his private quarters, humming softly to himself, then stopped.  Akhten was kneeling on the mat before his door, her hands clasped in his lap, her eyes focused straight ahead.  Djeten moved forward cautiously, when slowly, dreamily she lifted her head towards him.  "Your prayers went well?" she asked.  Djeten nodded.

Moving around her to get inside, he said, "You shall need a place to stay from now on."

"Is there no room in your expansive chamber?"

Djeten mused on the thought for a moment.  "You may stay with me in there tonight, but do not get accustomed to such treatment.  There will be a place for you with the servants tomorrow night."

"But I am not a servant."

"You are."

"No, I am not.  I am a priestess-in-relief for you, ready to aid you in whatever ceremony you may perform."

"I need no help," Djeten sighed distressingly.  "Now come inside."

Akhten rose stiffly, limping slowly but proudly into the priest's room as he followed behind her.  Djeten walked into a separate room, while she walked painstakingly to a couch dressed in silks and lay down laboriously upon it, closing her eyes.

When Djeten returned later, she was asleep, her breathing gone soft and shallow.  Out of curiosity alone he approached her, examining her features, so much more delicate when her face was deprived of its egoism.

"Such like Satenre…" he murmured in amazement to himself.  Like a wondering child, his fingers graced the moonstone that hung limply above her eyes.  He could see his reflection clearly in its surface.  Pulling away, he snorted to himself and retired to his own bedlike sofa, staring at the ceiling until sleep claimed him. 

I was amazed at how like Seto this Djeten was.  He and Akhenamun and Neferamun were all like their counterparts today.  Their personalities were unchanged save for Akhten.  But then, they were incarnations…and like Yuugi, I was a catalyst for Satenre.  Her soul was a part of mine, as Yugiou's was part of Yuugi's.  The two were fused, but then, wouldn't I be more like Akhten, and Yuugi more like Yami?  Or did Satenre change my soul to be less like to Akhten?  My head was spinning with more questions, but I didn't get time to brood over them because I was yanked suddenly forward again in time. 

+~+Anzu+~+

They were on the balcony of before, Djeten talking amongst Akhenamun and Nebeniwit.  Akhten was there as well, along with another woman I couldn't recognize.  For the first time, I was seeing Yami as he was supposed to be seen, outside of Yuugi's eyes.  He was very handsome, with his dark skin and youthful eyes, though they didn't seem as knowing as Yami's were now.  Djeten, on the other side, looked about with less sheer arrogance and more with knowledge than Seto could muster.  And now it was he who was speaking, it seemed he seemed to be having a small spat with the young pharaoh.

"Akhenamun, I advise against it," Djeten sighed crossly.

"The Oracle is right, my Lord," Nebeniwit added.  "Inviting only a commoner into your household, especially one of such obscure blood is, well—it has never been done before!"  Djeten nodded in agreement. 

"And had not our father god never been worshipped before as the Lord of All?  Was it not before the mighty Ra who held sway over the heavens?  And when my father came into power and created the priesthood of Amun here in Thebes, did they not all say, 'It shall never work.  It is doomed only to fail!'?" He paused for a moment to purvey the sprawling city below him. 

"And look about you now!  Egypt is beautiful and gains power by the day, unaffected by the retribution of angry gods, for there are none!  And Ra earns his godly allotment, for I am still his son as well on this earth, till I join him at my death.  So here you stand before me, my trusted friends still, yet you tell me that this god cannot choose for himself who shall dwell with him in his house when the decision is not yours to make?  The pharaoh says such menial matters he can decide for himself!" Akhenamun snapped harshly at them.

Nebeniwit bowed.  "I am sorry, my King.  I did not mean to question your judgment."  Akhenamun acknowledged him with a nod.

But Djeten did not waver.  "Lord, I would not say it, did I not mean it.  I see the way you gaze at Anumet.  You would have her dwell with you, and then what?  Shall she join your harem?  Or would you make her your great wife, as you have none yet and draw nigh on your twenty-second year?"

Akhenamun glared at the high priest.  Djeten did not blink nor flinch.  "I say only what is in my heart for the love of my king," he added softly. 

"Why can he not love a servant?" Akhten spoke up suddenly. 

"Akhten, do not speak.  None here need your council," Djeten told her. 

"It is my belief that you do, Lord Djeten," she said assuredly.  "Pharaoh has delegated a servant to remain with him.  He has not yet stated his motives, so far as love be concerned, and if it is, then what can you do, my Lord?  Is love not one thing, and wisdom another?"

"Akhten," Djeten warned her.

"I am sorry, my Lord," she told him honestly.  "Love does take place above all wisdom and knowledge.  It would be an error not to let her in Pharaoh's house."

"You do not understand, stupid woman," Djeten told her.  "You know not of what you speak."

"I know better than you."

"What was that?" Djeten asked her.

She glared at him, her eyes burning brightly in the sunlight.  "I know a better more of love than you who have forgotten its sweet taste on the tongue of bitterness.  You make yourself a fool before a matter you do not understand."

"Silence!" he barked, bringing his hand up and striking her down with the back of it.  "Go to your quarters!"

The unknown woman beside Nebeniwit watched as Akhten fell to the floor with a limp cry.  She was not so tall nor as willow thin as the relief priestess on the floor, but was no less exotic with very long black hair, plaited around her shoulders and deep, expressive black eyes.  Unlike the rest though, she wore linen dyed black, cut in jagged lines, trailing from the apex of her thigh to her ankle, gold necklaces and bracelets strung about her neck and arms.  Her eyes focused on Akhten as the impertinent woman picked herself up from the ground slowly.  Djeten was staring in shock at the hand that had struck his servant.  

"I do forgive you, my Lord," she said calmly.  "I will retire to my quarters."  Turning away serenely, she left them for the inside of the palace. 

"You are too kindly of your servants," Nebeniwit said jovially.  "Had she been mine, I would not have only sent her to her quarters, but beneath the lash as well.  Though of course," he looked at the woman standing next to him.  "My servants are soon taught their place."  The woman turned to his gaze and glared, anger permeating her stare—suppressed anger. 

"I am always obedient of my master," she whispered in a low voice. 

"It is good for my heart to hear you say those words, Oan," her master laughed.  "You are dismissed for the afternoon."  Oan bowed deeply, retreating away from her lord. 

Leaving the balcony, she saw Akhten examining the red mark on her face tentatively on a mirror in the hallway.  Oan approached her.  "Why do you raise your voice to your master, the one who decides your fate?"

"The gods are the only beings who decide my fate, and until they claim me, I will do as I believe is right," Akhten responded bitterly. 

"The gods do not spend their time overseeing the meaningless lives of the mortal host.  You should obey those who hold your life in their hands until you have their trust," Oan advised quietly.  "And when you own that, there is little to stop you from rebellion."

"Trust is a menial thing, far too easily broken, and not worth the time it takes to build.  I will advise my master and king on what is right, regardless of where my words are held."

"But if you want them to take the advice you are so willing to preach, it is best that they know your voice is worthy of being heard," Oan whispered.

Akhten turned away from the mirror and confronted the other woman.  "What do you mean?  You are yourself only a lay magician."

"As a Magician of the House, giving advice is my service to the people.  I am only saying what should be done, not informing you as to what exactly I do, or what you choose to do.  It is only an efficient way of getting what you desire most."  Oan looked at her warily, "And you do desire something very greatly, don't you?"

Akhten met her black eyes.  "If I do it is none of your concern.  Be gone."  Oan shrugged and left her, alone to her thoughts. 

Sighing, Akhten took off down a separate hall.  "But my desire is not my own," she whispered to herself.  "My desire…is what Satenre wills it of me."  Tears pricked at the edge of her eyes.  "I am told not to trust the king, he will betray me, nor shall I love the viziers, they will be my downfall.  The priest, he will be my death."  She began to cry.  "But how can I not love these people who are so good to me, even though I shun them.  Save for the priest, and he is who I came to serve."  Wiping away the tears from her eyes, she streaked thick lines of eye kohl across her face.

She stopped suddenly, and turned around.  I realized at last someone had been calling her name, while she was talking to herself, and apparently, she had just discovered the same thing.  "My lord?" she asked at length.

Djeten was walking quickly towards her.  He stopped suddenly, seeing her tear-streaked face.  "I did not strike you that hard," he said gently, or at least as gently as Djeten could manage, and wiped her cheeks quickly with his thumb, clearing away the smudged eye liner.  "Now come on, you fool, I've idled too much time trying to sway the stubborn bull that is pharaoh," he smiled.  Akhten froze as he wiped her tears on his tunic and brushed quickly by her. 

"Come on, you stupid woman!" Djeten called.  Akhten regained her cool composure immediately and followed out sulkily behind him. 

The scene blurred again, but didn't race forward or jerk me along as it had done before.  I guessed the time change hadn't been so extreme, but here wherever this place could be called, I wasn't sure about anything.  Except that Seto's look-alike was taking a bath in a pool right in front of me.  Djeten was purifying himself after all of his fancy rituals in the pool of the temple, and right now he was anointing his toned body with oils and perfumes.  He was built just like Seto was, lean and muscular like a basketball player, and I was starting to have trouble, telling the two apart.  Which wasn't the best, considering it was rather obvious right now that Djeten wasn't wearing his linen skirt. 

Thankfully, I was yanked out of my slowly degrading thoughts by Akhten popping out from a tall bush of sedge.  "Good evening, my Lord," she said pleasantly.  Djeten jumped and spun around to face her.

"What in holy Heru's name are you doing?" he asked her incredulously.

"Bringing you your clothes," she answered.  "Unless you'd rather not have them?"  She held out several items of clothing.

He snatched the linen habiliment from her outstretched arms and wrapped himself just enough to be passable.  "Could you turn away please?"

Akhten laughed.  "Does your modesty come from your priesthood or self-consciousness?"

"Does your arrogance come from your womanhood or self-righteousness?" he countered dryly.

"May I look upon you now?"

Djeten finished wrapping his skirt around himself.  "Yes, for Ra's sake, woman, look."

She smiled and faced him, helping him to secure his priestly adornments of gold and jewelry.  "My lord, you are quite handsome." 

He looked at her warily.  She was staring at him unequivocally, a catlike grin creeping across her face.  "Is something the matter, Akhten?" he asked. 

She grinned, "It is a shame my lord forswore love.  He would have made a fine brother."

"I would be no one's lover," he said shortly.

Akhten brushed up against him silkily, "Come to me that I may see your beauty."

Djeten reeled away so hard both of them almost fell over into the water.  "You are not yourself Akhten," he stammered.  "Y-you're unclean."

"You dare defy what you feel in your heart," she shouted at him.  "Dare you not to deny me, when all I have done and will do is love you."

Djeten stared her, open-mouthed.   "The feelings I have in my heart are only for Amun," he said at last.  His eyes softened.  "I can only love the gods, Akhten."

She turned her eyes to the ground.  "Then I will join the house of Amun.  If I become his daughter in the priesthood, then you will love me as well."

Djeten paused wrapping his leopard skin around himself and looked at her.  "If that is what you truly want, Akhten, I will have it arranged for you to become a priestess of Amun."

"No," she gripped his arm.  Still wary of her, he pulled it away cautiously, and treating her as one who was mad.  "Djeten," she pressed.  "I am a priestess of Amun.  I want a rank nearer yours, my Lord.  I wish to be an Oracle, a Prophet such as yourself, and I'm prepared to take all the risks necessary to gain that office." 

His eyes widened and his manner became far more chagrin than it had before.  "You don't understand," Djeten said scornfully.  "You cannot just become an Oracle by the will to do so.  You must be chosen by the gods, bred for the position.  All the years of training that you would have to undergo—"

"No," she interrupted.  Stopping she looked at him, arrogance and pride gone from her eyes.  "Do you understand why I came here?  Why I came to you?  I am chosen by the gods, my Lord.  I was sent here to serve you."

"That is not possible, the gods would not control a mortal to do their wishes," Djeten said in repugnance.  "Now away before I lose my temper with you again."

"No!" she cried again.  "My lord, you have to believe me.  I'm not just a simple mortal!  Please," she begged.

Djeten let out a cry of both anger and hurt.  "Stop, Akhten.  You have given me too much trouble already.  I want no more."  He turned and walked away from her as quickly as he could, leaving his outer robes and jewelry behind him.  She held up a hand to go after him, but brought it down quickly, slumping down beside the pool. 

"Idiot," she cursed.  She dipped her hand in the water, staring coldly at her reflection.  "Curse me, that my soul could not be my own."

What she meant by that I didn't really understand, but I didn't have a lot of time to puzzle it because there was a rustle in the rushes behind her, and Nebeniwit emerged from them, taking Akhten quite by surprise. 

"Why Akhten, what are you doing by yourself so late at night?  Where is your master?" he asked.

"He has left," she moaned.  "He does not allow for me to become an Oracle priest such as he.  I only want to be loved by the gods as Lord Djeten is, my only wish now is to be part of the house of Amun, an Oracle like my Lord."

"I see," Nebeniwit murmured.  "Being the vizier of all Lower Egypt, I could perhaps command Djeten or another high priest of Amun to make you an Oracle of the god."

Akhten nodded slowly.  "I want to be with Djeten."

Nebeniwit looked up at her sharply.  Pursing his lips for a moment thought, a sudden spark came to his eyes.  It vanished though, as soon as I noticed it, and he continued to speak to Akhten, assuring her he would find some way to bring her full into the Priesthood.  She thanked him softly, and gathering Djeten's remaining articles of jewelry and clothing, set off to the inside of the temple.  Nebeniwit followed after her, stopping only at the entrance to the temple, then stopped and left the temple complex entirely. 

+~+Andre+~+

I watched, still awestruck as my own incarnate, Namen walked down a lonely hallway.  Most people of the pharaoh's house were in bed at this hour, and I wondered why Namen should be up so late.  I noticed he walked quite cautiously, checking every few moments to see that he was not being followed.  At last though, he stopped before a door carven into the side of the wall, and he went through it carefully, still checking one last time to see that no one saw him enter. 

On appearing inside the room behind the door, Namen looked about, examining the contents of the room.  Maps were scattered about everywhere, along with stacks and piles of papyrus scrolls, probably containing information as tedious as the stock of wheat in the pharaoh's cellars for the year to the murder of a nobleman, all depending on the day.  This had to be the vizier's room, for it was also laden with spoils of nobility. 

A man appeared from a separate room of the chamber.  It was Isesi, the other advisor to the pharaoh.  "Ah, Captain Namen," he greeted my incarnate very warmly, just as the Professor would say to us after a long day's work.  Yeah, Isesi was Professor Edward Geb, not that you couldn't have guessed that from the start. 

Namen bowed politely.  "Forgive me for intruding, I felt there was something of importance I must tell you about your fellow advisor, Lord Nebeniwit."

"And what is that?" Isesi asked in curiosity.

"That I would not lay great trust in him, my Lord," Namen said gravely.  "Too long has he haunted the steps of certain members of the pharaoh's house, members such as Lady Neferamun and now Lady Akhten.  I see him looming over many shoulders.  There is something he wants, and cannot yet retrieve.  It is my belief that he is after the high priesthood of Amun."

Isesi sat down in a nearby chair, and stroked his chin thoughtfully.  He was an old man now, long past his days of youth and glory, but in the place of adolescence sat great wisdom and knowing, lining his face with the creases of a life well-lived, but not without its trials.  His eyes were dark and discomforted now in the firelight, and long had his wig been lost in the stead of thinning silver hairs, well cared for.  At last, he spoke, "Long did Lord Nebeniwit covet for himself the position of Oracle to Amun, but he did not lust greatly for it."

"Maybe he has never said so to anyone, maybe there are darker desires in his heart that he has not yet shared with anyone because he fears persecution," Namen said suddenly.

Isesi nodded.  "Such could be true, and I cannot condone such images as you have painted for me.  My eye has not been blind to Lord Nebeniwit's prowling, though it does try hard to rationalize it.  Friendship does that to untrustworthy images, you see."

Namen shook his head in agreement.  "I do understand for at first did I feel the same way.  But I have noticed it now too much to see him in such friendly sights.  That is why I came here.  To urge you not to be unwary, for some force of evil looms above us, biding its time, but I fear it prepares to strike soon and hard.  My Lord, please be ever vigilant now, for I believe the need of it is great."  And with one final bow, Namen left, leaving Isesi to brood over this new warning.

I watched as Isesi slumped even further in his chair, muttering to himself.  A dark force loomed above them, Namen had said.  Djeten had mentioned the gods were uneasy, that Set was still seeking revenge, and not against the gods, but against Egypt.  With a jolting realization, I put the two together.  All of these the people, the pharaoh, Djeten, Akhten who looked so much like Rena, all of them…they were all going to die.  I suddenly felt very sick, and might have been had the candles in the room not gone out with a flicker, and left the scene in darkness as I whirled forward again to another memory, bringing the entire kingdom ever closer to its downfall.   

~ Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch'entrate. 

__________________________________________________________

Well, how was that for drama, and even more awaits in these last few chapters!  Oh you'll go mad, simply mad!

Té amo!

~Rena C.