Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh
My Notes: Trying to get back on schedule. In other news, has anyone else been as tired as I have been? It seems like the past few days, maybe weeks, I just can't seem to get out of bed. I'm sleeping a lot longer than I should be. But then I also have trouble sleeping when I need to as well. Maybe it's nothing. I've also been having some rather odd dreams. Granted that's nothing new, but still. I've been known to have some rather intense periods where I'm not exactly asleep but I'm not 'awake' either. That's kinda the story I want to write, if I ever get around to it. Not that an almost-90 single-space page Fanfiction is insignificant either. What chapter is this one anyways?
An Altar to the Gods
As one of the premier religious official in the entire country, Sethos' knowledge of esoteric and fundamental rites and rituals allowed him a certain degree of haughtiness when it came to unraveling the mysteries of the Egypt's temples. This unnatural source of joy burst forth as the High Priest began lecturing Kisara regarding the various rights and wrongs of humanity as a whole and the fates that awaited those who obeyed and those who rebelled.
"Notice, slave, that at the entrance of this temple are two massive pillars that reach out to the sky above. Note the chiselers inscribing a holy text upon the body of each pillar. If you could read, you would see that this temple is being dedicated to Amon-Ra, whose glory is as eternal as the brightness of the sun. Being one of the gods, to have his patronage here marks a deep-seated need that we Egyptians need for the sun. To deny the sun, we lose everything: our warmth, our crops, our sense of time. There would not be anything for humans to do save wait for death, which would be swift. We show our thanks to the sun, here at the entrance, as also a warning to any outsiders who do not dare worship the sun that everything inside is sacred."
Only this particular white-haired slave would dare have the courage to interrupt Sethos in the middle of his speech. "But what good is it to have these inscriptions when no one can read them?"
"That is for the commoners to learn on their own time!" Sethos spouted. "If they do not have the will to learn how to read their own language, then they aren't fit for much of anything save labor." He also added, quietly and to himself, "With the way some of these villagers are speaking, they don't even know the language itself." This outburst caused some slight stares at a few of grunt laborers, which of course the highly decorated priest chose to ignore.
"But how will anyone really know that this is a temple to Amon-Ra, or that it's even a sacred place?" Kisara asked, in slight confusion.
Sethos wasn't really sure what she was getting at. "When the temple is complete, there'll be armed guards at the entrance as well. The people won't be allowed in, except on certain festivals and occasions, or when they're being accompanied by one of the priests." He tugged at Kisara's makeshift wrist-leash. "Come. I do not have time to dally outside the temple. Pressing matters are inside." He tugged again, making sure that she stumbled a bit, just to continue the façade of the public workers.
Passing inside, between the two pillars that marked the gate was a semi-complete walled courtyard. The wall extended itself from the two pillars and formed a giant rectangle leading up to the main building. The actual temple building itself looked like a bitten end of a piece of bread loaf; the walls and interior were far from finished and were easily viewed by the newcomers. A brick-laid path opened before the two as potters made their earthenware creations in the heat of the midday sun. Twin obelisks were laid beside the pathway, which would be levered into position at the front of the main building sometime soon after outer construction was finished.
"Seems to be proceeding on schedule," Sethos said to himself. "Come." He again tugged the makeshift leash. He walked forward until he was past the horizontal obelisks before turning around so that Kisara could view the entire courtyard and the distance they had traveled. "The space between the gate of the temple and of the temple itself is to serve as a reminder of the vast area that the sun must travel during the course of one day. For Ra to navigate the sky is no great challenge than to keep his boat steady. Yet when he disappears into the underworld, his trials become more and more difficult. Demons attack. The unrepentant and those cast out of house of Osiris lay in wait to trap and kill those who are aboard Ra's holy ship. The great serpent tries to knock the crush the boat to the far shores, rendering it useless. But these attempts all fail before the divine might of Ra as his boat sails forth from the underworld and back in the sky, giving us light once more. These are the fates awaiting those with an evil heart: to get close to the divine radiance and never getting any farther and being repulsed by the good and the holy. Judgment is made upon death and death cannot be cheated."
"How does one know if one is good and just versus proud and evil?" the young slave girl asked, curious.
"The gods can weigh the heart of a person; they can tell if people have jealous desires or if their intentions are as selfless and light as a feather," Sethos answered by rote memory.
"Is that story the inspiration for the Millennium Scales then?" Kisara asked, having seen the balance in the hands of one of Sethos' contemporaries. "The one with Anubis proclaiming his verdict?"
The High Priest looked amused. "That is one of the inspirational ideas, but it is difficult to tell whether the Millennium Scales came first and then the story or vice-versa." Inwardly he smiled, knowing that some of his talks were sinking in, albeit slowly. Reality of the moment sank in however. "How does a slave know such things? It is not common knowledge for one to possess."
And Kisara knew what the hinted threat meant. "Apologies, my High Priest," she said as she knelt to the ground. "The master who owns me has a brother who is much more learned than I am. He likes to share his thoughts as I work."
Sethos merely grumbled to himself. "A slave that thinks is a dangerous thing." He motioned for her to rise. "You would do well to do as you are told, for if you begin to desire things that you cannot have you will easily turn to the path of evil." He took a moment to pause and reflect on his own words before shaking himself out of it. The rope twine was given a pull, as Sethos turned inside.
An array of flanking base posts, holes in the floor for future supports, was among the many things within the roofless interior. Here some of the artisans were busily painting native wildlife at the bottom of the non-completed walls as brick layers were continuing to build the remaining part of the walls. Some of the men whistled the tune to a common ditty as they performed their allotted tasks, though silence was heard as the High Priest entered. One of the men, a stout figure who seemed to enjoy an evening drink of ale far too much, approached the official with a tablet and scroll in his hands. He was clearly one of few people overseeing the construction from the pleased expression his face had put on.
"Your Eminence, here are the projected numbers of men needed to finish construction along with a scheduled number of days left," the head builder said as he handed over the scroll of papyrus. He shot a lewd glance at Kisara while Sethos was momentarily distracted.
"Cut the numbers in half," the High Priest stated in his unique cold tone as he handed the tablet back.
"Eminence? That will make things take twice as long. Is that wise?" the man asked, flustered.
Sethos stared down this portly servant. "I'll need half the men to help construct fortifications and be trained as soldiers. Preparations are underway to make the town more secure. I do not want to see that all this effort go to waste if bandits attack."
The jaw of the head builder dropped. "You expect half the men to join the Pharaoh's army just like that?"
The High Priest's eyes narrowed, hiding them under the shadows cast off his ornate headgear. "There is a war going on in case you forgot. Unification of Upper and Lower Egypt is one of the Pharaoh's most pressing agendas. Dissenters, rogues, and thieves will scour every part of the land in search of easy wealth. An undefended temple would easily be ransacked. I will not allow common vermin any chance to desecrate this shrine."
"I'll have to push back the completion date…" the man stuttered.
"Two additional weeks will suffice," Sethos said as he relaxed his glare. "The flourishes to the temple can be finished after the temple is intact. The dedication ceremony won't be too far off after that. My Chief Scribe will give you my official date."
"You're demanding a lot out of the men, sir," the head builder started to say before Sethos again gave him a serious look. "I'll get right on it."
"See that you do." Sethos was momentarily torn between continuing his inspection of the temple or promptly returning to his chambers. His fingers twisted the rope in his hand, immediately reminding him that he still had to return Kisara. He quickly made up his mind and proceeded to leave the grounds with the slave in tow.
Later,
Kisara had long been familiar with Sethos' method of displaying his affection. She knew that everything had to be arranged and calculated if anything as a simple as holding hands could be done. Still she was taken aback at Sethos' disdain towards the past and had led her to his chambers. She had seen him ordering his guards some command, but the gist of it was lost on her. But her eyes widened when she found that they were the only ones inside. He had led her to some small pillowed mats on the floor where they both sat down.
"For all intensive purposes, you are going to be disciplined by the High Priest himself," Sethos said quietly, running his fingers through her long hair.
"But what of all your warnings against this kind of behavior?" Kisara felt her heart throb wildly in her chest.
"A lot of things have been on my mind lately. With all that's happened…," Sethos stopped to look her in the eyes, his hands firmly on her shoulders.
Kisara met his stare. "Yes?"
A long moment passed before Sethos actually turned away. "Time is fleeting. It is our duty to make every moment count. And yet…"
The wool fibers of her slave clothing were chafing Kisara, but that wasn't the only thing that was making her anxious. Her thoughts and emotions were whirling inside her little mind, but she tried to hide it. Her increase breathing was the only outward sign of concern.
"Kisara…," Sethos started. He shut his eyes. "A disturbing thought has been growing inside of me ever since I heard of it. It won't let me go, even when I try to avoid it, even when I don on this attire. Combined with my repressed ardor for you, it grows strongly. Too strongly." His hands fell away from her.
She reached out to one of his hands and held it in her own. "You are a priest. You should know what to do," she said quietly.
He opened his eyes. "That's what's troubling. Something like this has happened before."
"Tell me what you are thinking."
He squeezed her hand softly. "A prediction has been given to me."
Kisara let out a frustrated sigh, knowing that things never turned out exactly as prophesized. But she tried to give Sethos an encouraging look, despite her misgivings.
"I…I'm fated to fight against the Pharaoh."
They were both quiet for a moment: him lost in his own thoughts, Kisara wondering if he was serious. "Do you want to?" she asked.
"Not really. But improvements could be made; drastic changes in the social system, equality could reign among all…"
Kisara knew what he was hinting at. But she kept quiet for a moment as Sethos collected his thoughts.
"…And the Pharaoh's so young. Plus with this war he's waging that might go on for a very long time, he could easily be slain. He has yet to produce an heir, if he could only pick his queen…"
"But could you? Really could you fight your friend?" Kisara interrupted.
He took but a second to reply. "I could. But only if the right motivation strikes."
Kisara rested her head against his chest. "Then pray that the right motivation doesn't come along." But somewhere, out in the distance perhaps, she heard someone laughing. Laughing like a madman.