Author's Note: Alright. I've only gotten three reviews for this fic… which, might I add, I worked VERY hard on…Did I mention I researched Egypt so as not to make any crucial mistakes about the actual HISTORY? * pouts* But hey. I feel that if I continue to update, hopefully I'll get a few more people to like my story. Thank you to Kaitourei, WhiteBakura, and fani90 for your praise. And, yes, fani90, it is indeed Yami Bakura. Sorry if I didn't make that clear enough… ^_^;; Also, warning! This contains traced of yaoi between Bakura/Yami. You are warned. Anyway, this is the second chapter. Hope you all enjoy it. Oh yeah! And I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. If I did, Anzu would not exist. XD
*Ushabti: Egyptians made small figures out of wood or other materials to place in the tombs of loved ones. Usually, the ushabti resembled the person that it was made for.
Chapter 2: Treading on Broken Memories
Night crept stealthily over the city of Thebes. As a cloud passed though the black sky hiding the stars from view, a cloaked figure moved quickly in between the darkened buildings.
While Egypt slept in its unaware cocoon, a plot was afoot; a plot filled with malicious intent. A shadow even darker than the night between the tall elaborate structures slid across the road towards the palace of the young Pharaoh.
Unaware of the figure running tirelessly towards his home, young Yami, Pharaoh of Egypt slept in a state of carefree bliss. His hair, spiky and aflame with passionate color was spread across his black satin pillow. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he rolled over onto his left side.
Bakura lifted the cloak and wrapped it tightly around his face, hiding all of his features except for his eyes. Gazing up at the palace, he reconsidered and pulled his cloak back down, exposing his skin to the cool night air. He sneered evilly and spat on the steps leading toward the stronghold of his cursed enemy.
Yami's amethyst eyes fluttered open, his brain too full to sleep. His thoughts drifted back and forth between royal issues, trying to figure out how to deal with the pressures of his crown. Sitting up in his bed, he ran one hand through his hair, another sigh erupting from the depths of his soul.
Slllliiish… what a lovely sound slitting a person's throat made. Bakura watched the two bodies of the royal guards slide down the wall and land in heaps at his feet. He smirked bending down and examining his work.
"So this… this is what you felt when you massacred my people. Pure ecstasy…" he crooned, licking the warm blood off of the knife's slender edge.
"Such a cruel fate… to feel the bite of a knife against warm flesh… Tsk… what a way to go…" he continued to mutter. He glanced down the hallway, making sure that he was alone. He smirked and continued to walk, talking to himself as he went.
"No more guards? What a place… and I thought that the Pharaoh was a God." He laughed, making his way to what he hoped would be the Pharaoh's room. His eyes shone brightly, reflecting the glint of his knife, his face twisted in a frightening grin.
He stopped at a set of double-doors decorated with gold-leafing and beautiful intricate carvings. This… this was surely it. He would get his revenge on Akunumkanon. He would start by taking the only thing Akunumkanon cared about… his beloved whelp of a son! Bakura placed his hands on the doors… began to slowly push…
"INFIDEL! STOP! I DEMAND THAT YOU EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" roared a royal guard racing around the corner to protect his Pharaoh.
Bakura quickly removed his hands from the doors, searching for an escape route. Finding nothing but more guards swarming around him, he cursed softly under his breath. He pressed his back against the doors as the guard's advanced on him, wielding their swords.
Just then, the doors swung open. Bakura found himself leaning against nothing and lost his balance, falling backwards into the arms of non other that the young Pharaoh. Bakura looked up, studying the delicate features of the boy. His large light-purple eyes were wide with shock, his hair mussed from the hours he had spent sleeping. Bakura found himself immersed and could not remove his eyes…
And then he was snatched up by the guards. Yami watched in terror as they dragged a kicking and screaming man from his arms. Shaking, Yami pulled the robe up tightly over his chest.
"Get in there you… Akunumkanon will decide your fate." growled one of the larger guards. Bakura watched them leave through the lighted doorway. He kept his eyes on the burning flame until all of the lights went out and he was left alone; surrounded by the hungry darkness.
A few days and a few nights had already passed; Bakura couldn't really tell how many days had exactly gone by. Rats scurried through the small puddles of dirty water that were scattered throughout the cramped cell.
Bakura hadn't had any water or food for about a day now. He would have tried to drink the water in the puddles, but having seen a rat drop dead in one of them earlier on brought him no desire to kill himself faster.
The room began to turn violently as he tried desperately to call out for water. He parched and swollen throat had closed up and his voice seemed to have vanished. Bakura's eyes rolled back in his head. He slumped forward onto the ground, sinking into the depths of his subconscious.
Bakura carefully ran his copper knife over the surface of the wood, carving it into a small person-like figure. His mother, her face hidden in shadow watched him closely, her skilled hands guiding his own.
"Is this alright, mother?" little Bakura asked. He held out the figure to her, his face filled with the pride of his accomplishment.
As he held it up for her to see, the knife slid out of his small fingers. Bakura let out a pained yelp. The knife clattered against the table, its tip stained with the child's innocent blood. Bakura held his finger tenderly, staring at the crimson liquid that began to ooze out of it.
Bakura's ushabti* figure lie on the table, forgotten. For the first time in his life, Bakura associated blood with pain… soon after pain became anger, but eventually faded. His mother carefully stopped the flow of blood with a rag, smiled and wiped away his tears. Bakura was then sent to do the remainder of his chores.
After a long day of labor, Bakura was finally allowed to rest. His mother placed a cloth blanket over him, tussling his hair and placing the ushabti figure next to his bed-side.
Bakura awoke to a soft crying sound. His eyes quickly focused in the darkness of his room and began to flash about the room, searching for the source of the sound. After a moment of scanning, his eyes came to rest on a small figure next to his bed.
It was the ushabti figure that he had finished earlier… but something was horribly wrong with it. Bakura fumbled for a candle and some lint, and with shaking hands, quickly lit the candle. His breath caught in his throat as he looked closely at the ushabti.
Blood poured from its eye-sockets, soaking his blanket and clothing. A miserable wailing noise emanated from its closed lips as it stared blankly at Bakura's shaking form.
Bakura covered his eyes and began to sob, rocking back and forth as he tried to escape from the splitting sound of the ushabti's crying…
His eyes shot open at the sound of keys rattling. Bakura tried to sit up, but a sharp pain surging through his body told him he would not be able to.
"God dammit…" he thought. "I'm just lying here… an easy target…"
A figure entered his cell, carefully closing the door behind him. Slowly the figure walked closer, coming into the dim light. Bakura's eyes widened in disbelief.
The young Pharaoh stood before him, his eyes wide with fear and misunderstanding. His wrists were adorned with precious metals and gems and his hair was spiked high above his head. Bakura almost longed to touch it.
"…who are you? Why did you attempt my kidnapping?" asked the Pharaoh quietly. Bakura smirked and said nothing. Hell, even if he wanted to reply, his throat was parched and burning; his voice gone. The Pharaoh let out a sigh and pulled a flask from his bag. Bending down, he poured some cool water into Bakura's mouth.
"Now… answer my question…" he inquired again. Bakura grinned and laughed mirthlessly.
"Even if I was going to answer you, oh Holy brat, do you really think you can trust me?" Bakura sneered. He wasn't about to be pushed around by some kid. The Pharaoh's eyes flared and his hand flew across Bakura's face. Bakura had the odd feeling of dejavu…
"Answer me or I shall have you killed! Do you not know to whom you speak, peasant?" he cried indignantly. Bakura sighed, looking up into the Pharaoh's eyes.
"I am Bakura. I attempted to kidnap you because your cursed father murdered my people. I am from the village of KuruEruna. I saw my mother burn all because of your family, and now I have come back for revenge. If you think I'm insane, that's probably because I am, but you would be too if you saw your mother's flesh burn in front of your very eyes. Did I mention I was only five when this all happened?" Bakura smiled, talking as if it were no big deal. He had explained this to so many people, what did it matter if he explained it to one more? The Pharaoh's face fell.
Looking towards the ground, Yami recalled what had happened at KuruEruna. Of course his father had explained to him… but the brutality hadn't been mentioned until now. The genocide of a village?… No. His father could not have been… It couldn't have happened like that…
Silence echoed throughout the dungeon. Neither of the two spoke for a few minutes. Yami finally broke the silence.
"Alright… if it means that much to you…" he held out his arms to Bakura. "Then… I order you to kidnap me."