Disclaimer: I still don't own Yugioh.

My notes: At the bottom will be my thoughts and explanations and a few possible spoilers. You've been forewarned. The title's tenative until I think of something better.

Moving Forward

It wasn't supposed to be this way, the High Priest Sethos thought to himself. The camel he was riding on bayed, as if accenting the notion. Sethos straightened his head-dress, which did nothing to protect him from the heat of the desert sun. The Pharaoh has a lot to learn…

"Isn't this fun, Sethos?" his brother called out as he made his camel catch up to the lead camel.

"Life isn't all fun and games, Menkaura," the High Priest stated. He watched his younger brother teasing his own ride, causing the poor beast of burden to speed up to an unnatural gait. "Must you do that?" he asked his brother.

"Well it's not as though we're going anywhere fast for a while. Not with this caravan that you're in charge of." He turned to look at the large number of wagons, camels, horses along with the various staffers in charge of maintaining the beasts and cargo. The caravan stretched on to the horizon's edge, the trail end no where in visible sight.

Sethos watched as his brother run off on his camel, laughing the entire way. The pharaoh's crafty, but not crafty enough, he thought to himself. He mused on the day's events, which did not go exactly as planned.

A little before daybreak, the High Priest was summoned before the Pharaoh and his ministers. A secret military movement had to be sent to the outer edges of Egypt's southwestern borders to ward off any invading nations that wanted to make use of the internal struggle for their own gain. The Pharaoh had ruled in his favor, expressing concern for possible rogue wizards in the area. However the Pharaoh also had expressed wishes that everything must be done in the shade, which ultimately meant that Sethos could not be seen with any armed soldiers. So hidden among the supplies and aid to the outlying villages, a full regiment of the Pharaoh's army also laid in wait, though they were to aid in the rebuilding and expansion projects. While he's mastered the first rule of state politics, there is much more to learn. If the villagers knew how many warriors were here among us, they'd feel a lot less confident about the ruling Pharaoh.

Officially, the High Priest's arrival would be aimed at supervising the new temple construction in the region, thereby serving the future needs of these villages and maintaining political stability. Unofficially, his aims would be 'removing all viable threats' from the region. And of course, he would be testing the loyalty of the men, seeing which might possibly be convinced to serve another master.

"News travels slowly, doesn't it, your eminence?"

Sethos turned to look at the speaker. That hair! he immediately remarked to himself. It was a dazzlingly white, the color of polished ivory, not the color of wrinkled old age and of wisdom. Seemingly as if rotating around the head, the hair swirled as if defying gravity, yet blending the tussled look of early mornings, which was remarkable considering the shortness of length. Only one other person has that kind of hair and she's safely out of sight.

"It is considered impolite to stare," the stranger informed.

"Forgive me. It's just that…I've never seen…," the High Priest stated as his eyes wandered the rest of the figure, "…such an intriguing person before." The man riding a similar camel beside him seemed both a native and a foreigner. His dark tanned skin and matching sand tunic did not seem out of place. Yet the large dagger that hung around his neck seemed to be more ceremonial design than practical, the blade the very color of dark. Underneath one of his arms, he held a full sack of something moving.

The stranger's brown eyes locked to Sethos' deep blue. "I am… a traveler of sorts. I've come a very long way to see the High Priest."

"For what purpose?" Sethos asked as he arched an eyebrow.

The visitor smiled. "I've come to give a warning. Your designs won't work. There are just too many uncertainties."

What sort of warning is this? "What are you saying? Not even I know what I will do."

"As your desire grows, your vision dims. If you can forsake your longing, then you may be able to achieve the impossible."

Meaningless doubletalk, the Hight Priest thought as his anger was provoked. "Who are you? Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Seto," the reply came.

"Who?"

A grin. "Set."

"My name is…," the High Priest growled, but something too quick for his eyes to notice happened. "Sethos!" he finished or heard someone shout. The High Priest jolted, as if he was struck. When he came about, he found his brother face staring at him. "Menkaura.. .What happened to the rider that was riding along side me?"

"Honored brother, you've been talking to no one but yourself."

"Ra wishes to try his servants," he said quietly to himself. "Perhaps I haven't made a full recovery," Sethos told his brother. Or maybe I'm slowlygoing insane.

Later,

When the caravan had encircled itself and established a small encampment for the night, the throng of traders and workers were all encircled around a great bonfire as a group of storytellers reenacted an old familiar tale. Over the roar of the fire, one could hear the laughter and cheers of the people captivated by the story. Sethos, whose tent wasn't too far from the commotion, decided it would be time to talk with a certain young slave girl.

He stepped out into the night air, turned and watched as his brother along with some other children on the trip imitate the fighting posture of beetles as part of the play. He scanned the audience looking for her unmistakable long hair and when he found her, she sitting near the edge trying to enjoy the entertainment yet her face showed signs of just putting on a brave face.

Ensuring the guards that he was going for a little stroll, the High Priest uttered an incantation rendering him invisible to all except those trained with transcendent vision. He moved quietly to her.

When the stood behind her, he made sure no one was around, before brushing aside some of her silver-white hair and whispering into her ear, "Come with me." She jerked with surprise, but Sethos' hand was on her shoulder, reducing the visible reaction. The young woman feigned a yawn and rose to leave; no one gave her the slightest glance, save for a young scribe who was an insider to all.

The two walked until they were clearly away from the caravan where only the camels, mules, and horses strayed. There Sethos dropped his spell and was immediately hugged by the young beauty in question. He didn't fight it; he just let his arms envelope around her, resting his chin upon her head. "Kisara," he whispered.

"Why do you torture me?!" the woman asked as she switched from and an affectionate embrace, to her pounding her small fist upon his chest.

"Beloved, you know the rules as well as I do. This liaison is forbidden to me," the High Priest explained, not even bothering to defend himself from such an attack. "I told you this last night."

"Yet you still come to me," Kisara said as she began to sob.

"As if I could stay away," Sethos whispered. She apparently didn't hear. "There's no other way," he continued. "If there was a loophole, I would have found it by now. We would be in broad daylight where all of Ra's children's can see. You would have the respect and dignity that you deserve. Not toiling away endlessly at your station."

"But I am a slave and I always will be!" Kisara exclaimed. Some of the camels turned to look. "And even if I were free, I would still be a slave. I would be a slave to you."

"Don't say that!" The High Priest cupped her mouth and made sure no one heard.

Kisara managed to keep her voice down and settle herself. "But it's true. I would pledge my entire life to serve you, now and forever. I would be honored to call you master."

No words came to Sethos' mind. He could only draw parallels between what Kisara was saying and what some of believers had uttered during their orchestrated contact with the Gods. "Believe me I don't like this anymore than you do." He stared into her eyes, the hue undetectable in the shadows. "There are rules that even I must obey! The Pharaoh and the people sees all, knows all. As do the gods. I cannot stray! If they knew that the High Priest of all of Egypt was intentionally breaking his vows,I would be stripped of my rank, publicly humiliated, and either executed or exiled."

She couldn't help but return the stare. But she turned away, staring into the darkness. "Then throw it away! We could run off. The lands of the Nubians are not far. Or we could charter a ship! Head into the sea…" The sound of sobbing reached his ears.

The High Priest hugged herin an attempt to muffle her noise, knowing these tears being shed were not only one-sided. "Shh…" he whispered. "I cannot leave my station. Not now. Not with Egypt herself divided. Enemies inside and out." His hands fumbled with her own, their fingers a knot of confusion. "The gods know this as well. They foretold…"

"Predictions shouldn't be trusted!" she almost shouted.

He was silent, knowing full well why she said what she said. It was on the recommendation of a wandering soothsayer that her family sold her into slavery, that she would bring misfortune wherever she went. She has no faith.I cannot blame her or tell her the rest. "Darling…," he said as he held her trembling body. They were quiet for a time. Despondent with only holding one another, each longing more than that, yet neither of them would make any move.

I knew this was going to happen, Sethos thought. This is last night all over again. I wanted her to stay at the palace. There with the Pharaoh, she would be safe. He stared at her body that snuggled against his own, half remembering the arguments they had thrown one another. Out here, she's a distraction, a liability. If we are exposed....The High Priest then remembered why he came out here in the first place.

"Kisara," he said as he placed his hands on her shoulders and moved her so they both were staring at each other. "I want you to remember something for me. I want you to remember back to when you weren't a slave. Can you do that for me?"

"It's been a long time," she started, her gaze averted from his.

"Try. Now can you recall your parents? Any siblings? Anything at all?"

She racked her brain for a moment. "I remember my father. It's all very muddy. I'm not smart like…"

"Doesn't matter," Sethos interjected. "What about the villagers? Your friends? Anything would help."

"Why? Why is this important? I don't remember anything except being a slave."

Sethos sighed. "Today I met a man…" he started. At least I think I met someone. He reached for strands of Kisara's silver hair. "He had the same kind of hair as you do. Shorter, of course. It was unnaturally white."

"I…I don't know." Kisara stammered, the realization sinking in. "My father was old. I thought everyone's else hair would change color or something."

The High Priest stopped to look up at the stars. "It's alright." No auspicious omens tonight. Perhaps there is more trouble ahead. "We should probably be getting back."

"Just a few more minutes," Kisara pleaded as he embraced again the only man who had ever shown her kindness. Sethos merely nodded.

Meanwhile in the Realm of Shadows,

Bakura, with half his face covered in dry blood, stood with his arms crossed, waiting. What's keeping him? As if on cue, a similar man came into view. Around his neck lay an ornate dagger, which only served to inflame Bakura's anger at his own missing trophy that should lay around his neck.

"Did I keep the prodigal son waiting long?" the newcomer asked, grinning, as he dropped a bag down upon the ground.

"If you could be punctual, we could easily move on to other important matters. Did you get them?" he asked as he eyed the sack.

"Do you think I would show my face if I didn't?" the other said as he brushed away strands of his own white hair. "We've been waiting for this moment for five-thousand years. One or two days won't hurt." Straight away a fist clocked him in the jaw, he spitting bloodied spit into the air.

"Fool!" Bakura yelled. "A lot can happen in just a few days time." He watched the other man, rub his jaw, before conceding the point. "Good. Now let us get this over with."

My notes: So with Finals out of the way I can continue to work on this piece uninterrupted. Now if I could only keep my imagination going. Anyways, some of you are wondering why I went against the canon and changed the name of the High Priest of Seto/Set/Seth to it to Sethos. Honestly I don't like the idea of people having the same name. I believe names to be a very important part of ourselves and each one makes us unique from the rest. Under that rubric, how could I possibly call the High Priest Seto and still believe in Seto Kaiba? They are two distinct, though similar, persons. It would be a disaster. I mean, look at how bad it is for Yugi and the Pharaoh in the dubbed versions. They're not fooling anyone.And there was no way I was going to name him Set/Seth, the evil Egyptian god (unless I had a good reason to, plotwise.) Besides, Sethos is techinically Egyptian, as its a variation onthe name Seti. According to my source, Sethos means prince or something. And this name is close enough to the canonical one variations. Anyways I'm sure no one will complain about me calling Sethos' brother Menkaura, the closest thing I could find to Mokuba. (Apparently the name ofa Pharaoh as well.) I'm still don't know what I'm going to call Yami/Atem. I guess I won't get to my possible spoiler yet as I'm tired and what to go to sleep.