Chapter One

Isis sat at the Cairo airport, hands folded and legs crossed. She was incredibly tense. For what seemed like the thousandth time, she looked at her watch. Once again, she found that what had felt like another half-hour had been no more than five minutes.

She had many reasons to worry. One, she was at the airport waiting for someone whom the Ishtars were going to allow into their home simply because he wanted to research—which was severely stretching the family laws, if not breaking them. Two, the plane was an hour late, and she'd told Malik she'd be back by now.

But she suspected the most prevalent reason she was nervous was whom she was waiting for: Seto Kaiba, possibly the strongest agnostic she had spoken to during Battle City, wanted to research his ancient past.

To say she'd been surprised when Seto Kaiba had called her would be an enormous understatement. Her shock had only grown as he explained that he wanted to find out about a girl he'd seen in a vision… the vision that had changed the future during their duel. The vision that had stopped him from attacking with the God of Obelisk and convinced him to attack with his Blue-Eyes White Dragon instead.

Seto had asked if her family had any texts he could look through for mention of the girl he'd seen. Isis's first instinct had been to refuse politely, but… something had been distressingly different about Seto's attitude over the phone. Instead of the detached, cold tone in Seto's voice that she had become familiar with during Battle City, his speech was halting and uncertain. He frequently corrected himself or trailed off in the middle of a sentence. Whatever it was he wanted to learn about, it was very important to him. So, unwilling to let him down, Isis had promised to ask Malik and Rishid when she got home from her daily job with the Egyptian government.

And she had. They had had a long discussion about it, too, before Malik had reluctantly decided that Seto could stay at their home for a month, at most. To research. Because after all, he was as much a part of the Pharaoh's destiny as anything else…

"Flight 610, arriving from New York, USA," said a mechanical-sounding voice. Isis didn't know whether to sigh in relief or grow more nervous. In any case, she stood and walked towards the window, watching the silver plane roll in. She waited with impatience and worry melding in her mind as the gate extended from the airport to the plane and people began to enter.

Seto was one of the first people to leave the plane. Isis almost didn't recognize him without his characteristic flashy coat. Instead, he wore a black sleeveless top with black pants. Around his neck was a cord with what appeared to be a small, plated Magic & Wizards card. He carried his traditional briefcase. As she watched him scan the room, Isis wondered if he was as nervous as she was.

Forcing down her worries, though, she walked up to him after he'd separated from the crowd. "Welcome to Egypt," she said, giving him her usual mysterious half-smile.

"Thank you," he muttered awkwardly. Then, "I have more things at the baggage claim."

"It's this way." Isis led him down the crowded hall of the airport, trying to think of something to say. But her mind remained blank until Seto had taken his suitcase from the baggage claim, and then all she could manage was, "Would you like help carrying that?"

"No, I've got it," he answered.

"We'll be walking."

"I need some exercise after that ride."

"Oh, how was it?" Isis wondered why she hadn't thought to ask before.

Seto shrugged. "It was no different from any other plane I've been on," he replied nonchalantly. Then he continued, "I'm sorry it was late."

"It's not your fault," she answered, "but I hope you aren't that hungry, because we can't stop to eat."

"That's fine."

So they left the airport and Isis began to lead Seto out of the city and towards the stretch of desert that separated her home from the rest of civilization. As the buildings became scarcer and the paved roads faded into dirt ones, Seto said, "I don't think I've adequately thanked you for allowing me to come and research. If there's anything you'd like in return…?"

"No, we need no thanks," Isis replied with some embarrassment. "But I do have a question for you." When Seto didn't protest, she asked, "Why are you so concerned about a girl you saw in a vision? Just one girl, in one vision. Nothing I showed you seemed to have such an effect…"

"Possibly because it didn't," Seto said shortly. Then he shrugged. "And at first that girl didn't either. I couldn't have cared less about her. But I've seen her since then. I keep dreaming about her, and I'm not sure if they're really dreams or more visions. In all of the dreams, though…" He trailed off.

"Yes?" Isis pressed.

"In all of the dreams, there's a sense of longing coming from her. Something about her… I feel like she wants me to learn about her. And sometimes, I feel the longing too, in my dream. I think she…" Seto looked off into the distance. Isis was pretty sure he was avoiding her eyes on purpose. "I think she meant something to my past self."

"Do you mean that he loved her?" Isis asked, masking her surprise.

"I'm not sure. It may have been something like that, but… in the first vision I saw, during our duel, my past self looked like he had sacrificed her to the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. It may be that he was only interested in that."

"I disagree," Isis replied thoughtfully. "You were… your past self was a very powerful person. For one sacrifice to be so important, when y… he could have made thousands were that his temperament, there would have to be something special about her."

Seto didn't reply to this, so they relapsed into silence. In a few more minutes of walking, the trap door that separated the Ishtars' home from the rest of the world appeared. "Here we are," Isis said, walking up to it and holding it open for Seto. When he didn't enter, Isis looked at him questioningly. "Is something wrong?"

"You… you live underground?" Seto asked uncertainly, his face disbelieving.

Isis paused uneasily, her mouth slightly open as she tried to think of a response. Having lived in the tomb for most of her life, it had never seemed unusual to her, but she hadn't realized that Seto might find it odd. "Is that a problem?" she said apprehensively.

"N-no," Seto replied quickly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't… never mind." He hurried through the door, and as he passed, Isis was surprised to see a bit of a blush on his face.

"We're here, Malik!" Isis called down the stone hall, entering and shutting the trapdoor.

"It's about time," Malik's voice answered, sounding distinctly nettled. "What did you do, stop to eat on the way or something? I hope not, because Rishid's making dinner…" He entered the hallway, looking at Isis and Seto with an annoyed expression.

"My airplane was late. I apologize," Seto told Malik.

Malik paused for the barest fraction of a second, no doubt deciding what attitude to take with their guest, and then observed lightly, "Lateness seems to be a general trend with planes." He smirked at Isis—the plane they had taken back to Egypt had been three hours late—then continued in a more serious tone, "Welcome to the home of the Gravekeeper Tribe."

Seto bowed formally. "Thank you very much for allowing me to come to research."

Malik shrugged. "Don't mention it," he said, clearly awkward. "D'you want some dinner?"

"Yes, please."

Isis and Seto followed Malik into the dining room, where Rishid was setting the table. "Welcome, Seto Kaiba," Rishid greeted their guest as the three entered.

"Thank you," Seto said for the third time that day. The four sat down at the table and began to eat. As they ate, Malik spoke with Seto, giving recommendations for which specific texts he might want to use—Malik knew the Ishtar library better than Rishid and Isis combined.

Isis, however, remained silent and contemplated their guest. He was so unlike the Seto she had known during Battle City that it was like he was a different person. Gone was the proud young man who pushed away any helping hand and scorned showing weakness. In his place was a boy who asked near-strangers for assistance and, in the short time he had been in Egypt, had demonstrated both humility and embarrassment.

Isis felt sorry for him, realizing how unusual his situation was. He was used to trusting no one and relying only on himself, but now he was in a position where he had no choice but to depend on her family.

As strange as it was, Isis almost missed the other Seto, the one who had sneered at her advice and refused to believe what he called her "Egyptian fairy tales," no matter how much proof he received in their favor. The one who was sometimes rude, but always confident and self-reliant. The one who had earned her respect during Battle City. She was almost sad for the unnatural change that had come over him.

Almost. But only almost, because somewhere in her heart, a voice whispered, If he hadn't changed, he wouldn't be here. You would have never seen him again. For some reason, she couldn't ignore the whisper. It refused to go away, no matter how much she tried to forget about it.

She didn't know why it would matter to her to never see Seto again… but it did.