The crystalline chandelier had fallen from the ceiling by an upturned chair and scattered flamed books. Orange fire crested the expensive furniture, licking the shelves and creeping along the walls. It was difficult to breathe and see. Seto's eyes were stinging from the flame and a billow of rolling smoke in the air but he was not concerned about anything save for Mokuba whom he must save even with the cost of his own life.

His running steps brought him to a corridor leading to the right wing where his brother's room located. In this area, it burnt even harder and there seemed nothing inside that wasn't sunk in flame and smoke. He didn't think twice, nor did he halt. Instead, he sped up and jumped through the fire, simultaneously wrapping the trench coat about himself to minimize the risk of exposure. Fire caught on the tail of his shirts followed by the first sensation of pain, his skin scorched and blistered within moments. He tried to smother the fire but it increased in intensity until his whole body was burning like a torch.

/NO! Can't... I have to save Mokuba... Mokubaaaaa…/ he screamed and thrashed in delirium and woke up.

When he opened his eyes, the world greeted him in a soft blue. There were no fire, no black smoke, no toppled objects on the ground, and no need to run to save Mokuba. It was nothing more than a dream, he realized and sighed as his panic faded into a throbbing headache and weariness. Exhausted, he stayed still. It took some time but at last, he could catch up with his memory of his days in the desert after the destroy of his jet by a serve sandstorm. It was impossible to recall anything beyond that point except the shifting sand and burning lights.

Above him, the ceiling was of a soothing color and there were musical sounds of water running over rocks. His throat suddenly felt dry and there was the presence of sand in his mouth. Someone was supporting him up and lifting a cup of water to his lips. As a dying man, he drank it off quickly and was gladly accepted more offer of water, the thirst blurring away the fact that the great Seto Kaiba was accepting help, from a stranger nonetheless.

"Where am I?" he asked in a voice, hoarse and weak as if his tongue was made of coarse sand, too tired to get angry at his helplessness. The one who answered him was a young man who could easily pass as his twin brother. Despite the simplicity of his clothing and indifference of manner, he carried a quiet air of dignity and elegance with just a hint of hidden alertness around him.

The man did not answer but set one hand over his eyes and whispered. "Sleep."

Almost immediately, his eyelids felt heavy and soon, his eyes closed on their own wills to lull him into a deep sleep.

It was all dark around him when he was awakened again. A wet towel was on his forehead, slightly warm from the temperature and heat of the day, a blanket tucked around his body, clean and fresh of soap. There was also the smell of herbs which seemed to originate from a nearby location.

He felt as if he had been sleeping for a very long time and his strength, drained and depleted before, now was returning. With little difficulty, he pulled himself up, disregarding of the cold air scaling his bare arms and torso.

There was movement and he couldn't stop from expelling a relieved sigh as he recognized the man's shape in the bleary light casting through the bars of a window. A cool hand carefully set on his forehead to check his temperature but he brushed it off with a wave of his hand in disagreement. A murmur of apology was heard. The other shifted away and in a moment, a pale yellow light flooded the room, providing a sense of peace and humble coziness which he unwilling embraced.

The man looked youthful up-close but his face -- smooth jaw and bright eyes -- wore a solemn expression. He was the perfect vision of detachment and austerity which Seto thought just belonged to some aged and respectful bishops of a French church. Uncomfortable suddenly with the idea, Seto turned away.

"How are you feeling?" the stranger questioned, voice tranquil, monotone even but his eyes were taking a slow and deliberate scrutiny of him. The act made him slightly irritated and conscious, not because he was unaccustomed to attention but because of the awareness that he was being affected by this mystery stranger's unabashed look. He avoided the man's eyes and busied himself with scanning rapidly his surrounding.

Beside a single bed which he was occupying, there were large pots in a corner of the room and quite a few wooden crates stacked neatly on one side. In the middle of the room, three of them looked suspiciously like the poor substitutions of two chairs and a table upon which sat a small oil disk -- the only source of light in the room. There were sounds of running water -- distinct and close now -- such a comfortable presence which made him unconsciously yearn for a long bath.

"Where am I?" eventually, he questioned and turned back. The other had settled into the ever aloof expression.

"You're in my sanctuary in the middle of the desert, twenty days away from civilization," replied the latter. Seto didn't find the answer particularly helpful but he put the matter aside momentarily as a cup of water was passed to him. The liquid was clear, not as much as what he usually had but for a dying man, it was more than sufficient.

"Come and have dinner with me, stranger. Be grateful for what that is given to us by our Gods and king."

/A religious fanatic/ Seto decided and after a moment of hesitance, took the offer and dragged himself of the bed. Having used to live on barely sustainable meals daily didn't spare him from the appetite resulted from days without anything in his stomach. They washed their hands with water in a basin before settling down on the makeshift dinner table. It was not surprising to find the meal composed by a meager of homemade bread and jam. As if the host was trying to compensate for the frugal dinner, vegetable and fruit were generous.

Seto wasn't modest in satisfying his hunger. It was not until the meal have almost finished that he noticed that the other man barely touched his own food. He looked up and caught those searching eyes but didn't withhold his gaze. The other's eyes were of a Prussian blue with a glowing ring of sepia as if the desert sun burnt from the corona. Brilliant and intense, they seemed to pierce through him. This time, it was the stranger who faltered and looked away. Seto took in a breath, consciously aware that he had been holding it the whole time.

"I apologize. It is not my intention to treat you with such imprudence but it is imperative to know whether my guest deserves our God's kindness. What's your name?"

He thought it was ridiculous to mention God every single time but he focused on the question instead and replied, "Kaiba Seto."

There came a brief moment of silence as something akin a smile graced the other's lips. He asked the same question out of courtesy and received an answer. "Seth, son of Khasekhemwy at your service."

It was strange to feel familiar and close to someone whom he had known for less than half a day. No, familiar was not an accurate word. Seto was sure that he had known this stranger for a very long time although every fact suggested that he knew nothing about him beside the name. Curiosity seized him. He wanted to know everything about Seth, who, why, what and how. Feelings were, however, easy to control and thus, he commented none as Seth started offering more information.

"We were on an errant when we saw you caught in a sandstorm. Initially, I thought your spirit was gone but my friend realized that you were still breathing. After bringing you here, we healed you up and waited until you woke up."

"Do you have a friend?"

"Yes, she's sleeping by now. I'll introduce her to you if opportunity allows because I know she'll be delight to see you," replied Seth with a fondness so unfamiliar to Seto.

/A female/ Seto scowled deeply at the idea, suddenly feeling heavy at heart. It could have been his general dislike for females or distaste concerning his having received help from a female.

"It's my pleasure," he lied easily and looked briefly into Seth's eyes to ensure the impression of honesty. Before the sun came tomorrow, they would part and everything was but an illusion, even this cool fresh air on his skin, the sweet taste of fruit lingering on his tongue and Seth's soft voice.

"Is there any way to contact my agent in Japan?"

The other frowned slightly, lips set in thinking and eventually gave an explanation. "It is unlike me to know not of this Japan empire. You may cross the desert to ask those who have more wisdom than me. Yet, unwise it is to cross the desert on feet for although the sandstorm has long stopped, there are clear indications of its soon return. Provision, I may have enough but horses, I do not have. 'Tis your own choice to go before the dawn breaks or stay till the storm is cleared for your safe journey."

Everything seemed perfectly logical but Seto couldn't bring himself to trust. It was purely a survival instinct which alerted him the possibility that Seth was hiding something from him.

At the end of the meal, Seth quickly cleared everything up and bade him good night. Then, the light was blown out and the door was shut.