Part: 4/6
Pairing: Not sure if there is one. Okay, hints of Mahaado/Seth.
Warning: None.
Disclaimer: I love the characters dearly but they aren't mine. How sad.
Summary: There is no more pretence. Mahaado breaks through the fragile boundary between him and Seth. It is the time to drop the mask and let his feelings guide him.
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It was a day with no sunlight. Above, clouds rolled ominously, dense and dark like darkness. The faraway golden pyramids from the Valley of The Kings were but giant distorted shapes like demons from the deepest corner of Hell. The wind was not yet strong but its intensity was growing by moments.
The only visible light came from six circles of burning candles on the ground. Standing at the center of each circle was a Millennium Bearer cloaked in purest white, their eyes closed, their hands clapped in a prayer as they chanted. The words were dark, old and ancient -- it was the language learnt only to the Millennium Bearers.
Crowds of spectators observed but not actually saw for they could not fathom the tremendous task or danger of the task. The priests' life was at stake as they performed exorcising to dispel and release the thousand of deaths to the afterlife. Dangerous kaas had transformed into evil presence to haunt the world. They could not reach the Land of the Death nor could they find peace in eternal rest. The accumulation of bitterness and wretches shredded of sanity they would still have.
The Hem-Netjer-Tepeys exposed themselves vulnerable to the dead as beacons of light in the dark. When the kaas came to feed on their souls, they would lend to the power of the Millennium Items to seal the kaas.
They were cold and miserable. They wanted but bodies to inhabit. and the priest exposed themselves vulnerable to the attack.
The winds suddenly grew ten-fold. Visible unidentified black shapes shrieked and floated to the burning circle -- the only source of light of light in the dark. There came dreading howls and screams. The candles suddenly were blown off. Yet, the chanting grew with the winds and drowned all the noises as the Millennium Items shone brighter until the priests were covered in circles of light.
A mental fight was occurring between the Hem-Netjer-Tepeys and the kaas but none could see except those who were engaging in the ritual.
/The stronger is the winner/ Seth gritted his teeth as the pressure threatened to explore his mind and shred it to pieces. The link between him and the other Hem-Netjer-Tepeys were strong. Their presence was consistent by his side. They were having a hard time to keep themselves at bay against the powerful attack of the embodied, distorted souls that had nothing to cling onto except the circles of light they were creating.
He felt exhausted and weakening, his eyes strained, hands and arms cold as a chill traveled down his spine. To him, the method was retard because they endangered themselves by engaging in the combats with the souls. Yet, there was no choice but to win the game. The kaas were closing on them and in no time, they would become food and consumed.
/The stronger is the winner./
Seth banished the Millennium Rod and screamed.
"Hjskl jtmnq!"
"Wait, Seth! Mahaado..." Screamed Akunadin but it was too late. Golden light were emanating from the Millennium Rod brighter than the sunlight. Having no choice, Akunadin activated the power of his Millennium Eye as the other Hem-Netjer-Tepeys were following his lead. The shrieks and howls echoed to the sky as the light spread and pierced the sky. The ground cracked followed by an explosion. Everything was sunk into brilliant light as they were lost, spiraling down into the abyss of light created to seal the thousand souls.
It was not until the cries from the spectators reached him that he was awaken to find himself deep in a kneeling posture in the circle of candles. The sky was completely clear of blackened clouds. On his sides, Akunadin and Isis were pulling themselves up to the cheers of the surrounding.
He stood, his back straight, proud and delight despite his nonchalant countenance that masked his emotions.
"Well-done, Seth!"
He turned back with intension to sneer but suddenly found himself with an armful of Mahaado. Bracing himself to withstand against the sudden weight, he felt the smell of blood invade his sense. The wetness against his chest furthermore confirmed the fact that the man was bleeding profusely.
"Call the healer!"
Long after Mahaado was carried away and the ritual was closed, the sickening stickiness still seemed to cling on his hands and body. To him, blood was not something to be disgusted at. As someone who was so used to death in the wars, he knew better than anyone that bleeding should be taken as the sign of body discomfort. It alerted the healer the degree of seriousness of the wound and thus, provided the healer some insight into the proper treatment. Saving life must be the foremost thing in a healer's mind, not the smell or the sticky feel of blood.
Yet, despite all logic, he could not see it that way when it came to Mahaado. If he was to name his feeling to the man, it would be hate and loathing, rooting too deep inside that he could not fathom. No longer had he remembered the initial reasons that triggered such mutual dislike and conflict. Still, there was no need to for the path of the heart and mind were not necessary to coincide. He hated Mahaado and it was enough. With this idea, anything that involved Mahaado meant filth.
Seth lived for power. He would be the one who emerged victorious and brought peace to Kemet. It was his means to prove himself worthy of his mother and decreased father. To him, peace was not a substitute of war. Rather, peace came as the result of the war. If Mahaado stayed on the opposite site with his stubborn belief for coexistence and negotiation, Seth would get rid off him.
Those were the things that flashed through his mind. At this moment, however, there was no time for his mind to wander.
A blade was aiming straight for his head. He ducked quickly and retreated three steps before starting to fend himself off from the following attacks.
One, two, three... an opening.
He suddenly charged forward with his spear dancing in a smooth and quick attack. It sang as the weapons came into contact. With a spiraling wide sweep, he trapped and threw it into the air.
"I lost, General," his opponent, Rohanah, bowed respectfully and accepted his curt nod in acknowledgement.
"I want you to practice harder from..."
"Seth!" A cry from behind was the only warning as another sword torn the air toward him. He turned and sidestepped, feeling the coldness of the flat blade gracing his neck. A few strands of hair fell. There was Akunadin standing with his feet planting firmly apart, shoulders square, arm muscles coiling like steel.
"Fight me, Seth. Try that move again."
He fought off the flush that was spreading across his cheeks as he realized that Akunadin had been witnessing his fight with Rohanah.
"Here I come, Lord Akunadin." He bowed respectfully and leveled up his weapon. Before his battle cry stopped, he had gone in for a full attack. A deft move from Akunadin blocked his spear effectively. He pulled back quickly, keeping distance between them because his choice of weapon gave him advantage at far distance. Unfortunately, Akunadin didn't allow him to retreat that easily. The man was following his steps with his own as his sword showered down on him like rain. Their weapons clanged. The first sound had not stopped as the second came. They started to move quicker and quicker but Seth spear barely grazed Akunadin. The man's defend was tight with not a single opening. Seth's every feint was foreseen and every attack was blocked. Both of them clashed again. The resounding sound of steel against steel echoed the military wing. Spinning his spear to trap the two weapons together, he used the momentum to drag the sword towards and away...
It was a trap.
In a flash, the sword was not there and he found his spear kicked away, the pointy tip of the sword cool against his neck.
"You still need more practice, Seth," said Akunadin and sheathed his sword. "What did I tell you last time again?"
Swallowing down, he tried not to wipe beads of sweat dripping from his forehead and temples. His loss was too profound.
"Attacking with such recklessness. Never once did you consider of shielding yourself. I have taught you that attack is the best defense but I never expect you to show such abandonment and disregard of your own safety."
"I will heed your teaching and be more cautious from now on, Lord Akunadin."
"Good." Akunadin turned away and sent him a look over his shoulder.
"As for now, you should leave. Per A'a requests your presence at his chamber. I'll take care of your soldiers here."
Seth frowned darkly at the mention of Per A'a. Every time he visited Per A'a's chamber, he always returned with more anger and resentment than before he stepped in. He had no doubt that Per A'a wanted to tell him and he wished to avoid the topic altogether.
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"General, I've heard that you gave Mahaado a vial of some strange herbs."
Not having allowed to look and stand up yet, Seth scowled from his kneeling position but he responded dutifully. "The vial is to assist Mahaado in the completion of the ritual."
There came the sound of a slam on the table. He could perfectly sense the furor from the young Per A'a, emaciating like waves too thick that the air became suffocating.
"How dare you say that, Seth!" Per A'a was reverting to call him by his name which could indicate his foul mood. "Do you know what the healer told me? Dangerous combination of herbs and dark magic in so small a vial! It lets the user bleed to death without realizing the extension of the wound. What have you to say?"
"Your Highness. The importance of the ritual weighs more than the well-being of oneself. If I am in his position, I will choose to do as such."
At least, there was truth behind his words. The vial was, indeed, one of his own. It was primarily used to numb away the pain, to keep himself standing on the battle field and to go on forever until the very last enemy collapsed under his spear. When there was not enough medicines to subdue the pain, when there was nothing matter except victory, the little vial was a miracle.
"Seth! Do you know how angry I am right now? At this moment, I can order to have you hang immediately but even so, my anger will not relent. I do not want to think of you the way most must have felt. Yet, you fail my expectation again. Your callousness makes you my most worthy soldier but it is not to direct towards your fellows and your friends..."
He noticed that the young ruler's knuckles on the table had turned white as if he was at his limit. Seth refused to say anything that could be used against him but he didn't realize that his silence made Atem even more pissed off.
"Damn! I don't know why I am talking about all of these when you deny even friendship. Seth, tell me. Do you even have a family or someone that you love?"
He frowned at the question. Was Atem suspicious of his loyalty which should be foremost?
Thus, he replied with such firm resolution. "I live to love, worship and serve you and the Gods, your Highness."
Atem gave an exasperated cry and all was quieted down for a moment. He could hear murmuring words like 'stubborn', 'selfish', 'callous' and 'incorrigible' but he let all slide away like water against rocks.
Finally, there was the sound of a chair being pushed back.
"Rise, General. We'll go to see Mahaado and I'll decide later what I want to do with you."
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It was the same nightmare that jostled him up from his unconsciousness. Drained and tired, he thought about the dream filled with fleeting images of pain and death. For some reason, the same dream occurred every time the General returned from the war. Sometime, he thought that the General was the omniscient nightmare itself and the very center of pain and suffering.
There was a slight disturbance by his side. As he looked, it was General Seth with his head resting on one side of his bed. The other appeared to be sleeping, the perpetual frown on his face fading away to show the smooth paleness on his skin. The appearance of Seth by his bed could surprise him at any other time but right now, he was too exhausted to feel any of such emotion.
For an interstitial moment, he was unsure of his next action. It would be awkward if Seth was awaken and saw him looking but he didn't want to fake sleeping.
"By the love of Ptah, you're awaken!"
"Per A'a," he pulled himself up and acknowledged Atem's entrance with a bow.
His action seemed to stir the General from his slumber. His lashes trembled slightly. His eyes opened and winked slightly from the blurry scenes. Immediately, his head snapped up and he straggled on his feet, back straight and on guard, a frown quickly setting on his face. All earlier indications of his sleep were gone except his eyes, weary with circles of dark around as if he hadn't had any sleep for the whole night.
"I was stricken worried. You've been sleeping for two days. The healer reported that you lost too much blood due to inconsiderate use of herbs and magic." The young ruler stopped and threw a meaningful glance at Seth before completing his thought. "It would be impossible to bring you back without blood transfer. General Seth has saved you."
"If it's in my ability to save one of my colleagues, I will never back down," Seth said with arms around his chest and the resemblance of a sneer on his face.
"Thank you, General," Mahaado replied without really meaning what he said. Saving him after trying to kill him? What scheme did the General have in store for him right now? His smile felt false on his lips. He always considered himself a pacifier and protector of the peace. He was considered kind-hearted, gentle and forgiving and he did not deny those qualities in him. Yet, he always found it hard to be kind to the General.
It was just fair, he thought. Apparently, Seth was fine with the way their relationship turned out because he was just as subtly nasty as Mahaado was to him.
Mahaado sighed. He was getting tired of talking. If they would leave him alone until the lethargy left, until his mind wasn't too confused with many things, and until this heart wasn't so swelled with hate demanding to lash out. It would be so easy to drop the mask and damn everything to Tuat.
"Mahaado, you must feel very weak right now because the poison has yet completely dispelled. Within fourteen days, however, you will be able to walk about. I suggest that you have enough rest and avoid to use magic until your health completely returns."
"Your Highness, I can't stay on bed for that long of a time when my duties are still awaiting me to fulfill. The reconstruction of your father's tomb is in the final stage and cannot be halted. The design of your tomb is still..."
He stopped, suddenly was aware of how worst he must have sounded -- getting wounded and leaving his duties unattended. He refused to look at Seth who must be looking down on him again.
"My tomb can wait but it is imperative that my father's tomb is completed to prevent desecration from tomb robbers." Atem turned. "General!"
He saw the scowl etched deeper into Seth's face.
"You've just come back and knowing you, I believe that you're looking for work. I hope that you don't mind taking over Mahaado's duties for a few weeks."
"Your Highness! My next campaign will commence soon and I must be with my men."
Atem waved his hand in dismissal. "We need not more wars. Your campaign will be halted until further notice."
Lips set, the General bowed and said in a grim voice. "Please reconsider your decision. At this moment, we cannot ignore the enemies. Stay still and they will strike back. It is best that we..."
"Seth! I'm unaccustomed to repeat myself. Just do what you've told. You can leave now."
The General's face was composed and impassive but in his eyes, there were frustration and defiance, uninhibited and as fierce as his white dragon. Something was bound to happen, he thought, as the shaking of Seth's shoulders became prominent. Yet, the General bowed deeply into submission and retreated with his head still down. Mahaado wanted to say something but he could not. Once Atem decided something, it was impossible to change his mind.
"Rest well, Mahaado. I shall revisit you tomorrow."
After Atem left, he was troubled by many thoughts, most of them concerning those blue eyes that seemed to turn vast until they became pools of turmoil blue. He fell asleep and the recurrent nightmare returned in full force. For the next seven days, he went in and out of sleep, awaken sometimes to have the much needed medicine, water and nutrients. He was grateful to Mana who faithfully stayed by his side during his time of need. She, however, was not a constant presence. Sometimes, he would feel completely well but then, in the next moment, the pain came and he could do naught but clutch his arm and writhe on his bed with the delirium and feeling of utter loneliness.
Atem visited him daily but Mahaado was rarely awaken to see him. The other priests came several times but he was too tired to give a proper welcome. Seth was the only one who never came back although Mana did mention that his servant came to obtain the layout and other documents concerning the tombs.
Despite all the pain, his health did improve -- his appetite increased and color was returning to his skin. He soon was able to do some mundane tasks himself. His mind, however, had nothing much to dwell on that it kept reminding him of Seth who, he suspected, must be too angry to do anything right.
On the fourth day of the second fortnight, he dressed in his priestly robe and paid Seth a visit.
It was his first time to step in Seth's workroom. His first impressions of the room were the smell of fresh ink and old dust. Sitting in the middle of the poorly lit room were a table and chair, simple and as uninteresting as their owner. Shelves upon shelves filled the rest of the space, parchments and papyrus scrolls spilling on the floor and stacking on top of each other. His eyes skimmed through the names -- "Mastering Kaas Summoning", "Meditation and Health", "Sky and Stars", "Dark Magic", "Thousands Uses of Herbs", "The Book of the Death", "History of Kemet",... Some of the names were familiar and he could verbatim the parchments himself, having copied and studied them over and over during his teens in the Temple of Amun.
From the back shelf just on the left of the chair hung a map of Kemet and its neighbors. On the map was scribbles, arrows, colorful dots and different lines of different thickness that seemed to make sense only to the General. His eyes were drawn towards the focus point of several small lines where they started to spread like branches to meet the red lines. He assumed that the red lines represented Kemet's armies and apparently, he was right. That only meant the blue lines represented the trails of the enemies. There was something strange about the map...
He walked towards to have a better look of the map and... hit the table. His quick reflex allowed him to grab the uncapped bottle before it fell down from its predicative position. Then, he saw it -- a papyrus roll, small and elegant. It was, just as expected, a letter in Heiratic script. The text was cursive and flowing which he found so different from the stoic General.
"Month Day Year.
My beloved Mother,
It is a very long time since I received anything from you. My heart is filled with uneasiness and distress from the lack of news.
As you know, everything has been well. I have been preoccupied with military plans for the conquer but I always think about you. Mother, I promise that in no time, I shall destroy them all and return to you..."
Hm, he skimmed over the words again and pondered on the fact that Seth's mother was still alive. As far as he knew, Seth had entered the temple as an orphan at the age of ten and started his way up. It would make no difference if Seth's mother was still alive. It was, however, another matter altogether if Seth was hiding something. His mind lingered on the words but he couldn't exactly put his fingers on it. A puzzle was missing.
There was movement and he stepped back just right on time. The General walked in, dressed in full armor, except for the helmet which he was holding in his hand. From his brow, beads of perspiration glistened and ran in rivulets. They damped his face, mapped the contour of his neck to his chest and disappeared into the breastplate.
"You should have visited me at the camp instead. How may I assist you?" Seth titled his head to rub the sweat away from his eyes.
"Just pass by to see how things progress. Seeing you like this, I don't think you even took one step to the Valley of the King for the tomb construction, let alone to design a new tomb for his Highness."
He thought that Seth would be angry but surprisingly, Seth showed no sign of his angry. Instead, his lips curved into a skewed smile.
"Don't compare me with a worthless and useless someone who cannot even fulfill his own duties."
"What are you implying?" His anger was fogging his mind now, hate without restrain breaking loose to the surface. His hands moved on their own account to grab Seth's shoulders -- a futile attempt to retain any thread of sanity in him.
His first impulse was to break those bird-like bones. His second impulse was to strangle him and just for a little while, stop those insults. The feeling of that pale neck again his hands as life left him would be delicious.
This was crazy. His eyes couldn't take away from the expansion of smooth white skin, at the little hollow where the collarbone joined breastbone.. Everything suddenly turned dizzy that he failed to regain his calm center.
"Take your hand of me," Seth growled. He sensed the indignation but as more intense than any emotion, there was hate dominating the pools of darkening blue.
/You shall not touch me/ those eyes hissed at him.
Startled, he pulled back, embarrassed of his improper action. Seth commenced a complete brushing of his tunic at places where his hands had touched as if they left dirt on it. Suddenly, he felt sick and nauseated.
"It is in your and my best interest that you leave the vicinity of my quarter immediately! Now that you're getting better, I will have my servant returned the documents to your place."
Seth turned away, his arm pointing directly at the door. He couldn't see much of Seth's face except the set jaw that was trembling even as he walked away, cursing everything about that room and its owner.
As promised, he received the mentioned documents. Seth's design of the new tomb was incomplete but the finished parts were done down to details. There were some calculations and concepts that eluded him. After the initial thought of consulting Seth, he decided to scratch the idea.
Notes:
Keith and Karim are two different people in this fic. I like Karim more than Keith but for the sake of my fic, Keith is the bearer of the scale rather than Karim.
Now that the fic has turned out into this, I have to say that it will end soon. Bakura won't even make an appearance. Someone will die. Well, actually, many will.
I'm tired now so... good night.