Chapter Explanations:
-Wadj-wer is, in Egyptian mythology, the personification of the Mediterranean Sea.
-Ptah, Thoth, Sebek and Ma'at are the gods and goddesses of craftsmen, of the moon and scribes, of water, and of harmony and justice respectively. Military divisions were often named after Gods in Ancient Egypt.
-Remember, the mythical beasts represent the three Egyptian gods cards, Slifer the Sky Dragon, Obelisk the Tormentor and The Winged Dragon of Ra.
-And the Dia Diank is the ancient Egyptian version of the duelling disc.
-The Qattara Depression is located in the northwest of Egypt. It is part of the Libyan Desert (Western Desert).
-Hapi is the divine personification of the Nile in Egyptian mythology.
Bloody flames, devouring without a difference, leaving behind not one innocent soul. But what innocency? Were not they all guilty? Was not the judgment of the gods pitiless? For them, unblessed brigands, unable to survive on the path of the righteous and the pious.
And as echo the agonising screams and the supplications of the dying, flesh and bones merge with the molten gold.
Seven treasures created for the war to cease. Ninety-nine souls sacrificed for false peace. And in the darkness, the shadows are gathering, the darkest destiny they are preparing, for the end is nearly coming.
For these past crimes, there is no forgiveness. No distinction, this Pharaoh will taste these times' bitterness.
For the tears he had shed, the nightmares that had kept him awake... for the family he had abandoned, the life he had given to the demon-snake...
Could not they understand? Did they think they could pretend? That nothing had happened? That everything had been forgotten? But he was a survivor. And everyone who will share his fate will remember.
The story is going on again. It is starting all over again. Until all are avenged, until he has his revenge... He, child of the lighten path, would be the instrument of his wrath.
His name is Bakura, of the cursed village of Kul Elna. King of thieves, spirit born from his fears and his grieves.
Sunset was setting slowly on Khemet, pyramids and houses disappearing in the darkness while shades of red and orange coloured a sky empty of all clouds.
Fluttering his eyelashes several times as he felt sleep was leaving him, Heba sat up lazily on the bed, still slightly tired. His fingers found their way to his pink lips, settling there for a second before he let his hand fall back against the mattress, frowning in perplexity while sighing in pique:
Bakura...
He now had a name. A name to put on this face that was haunting his dreams for weeks now. A man who, in strange ways, was desperately trying to convey to him a truth, a fate, an endless battle of which he now seemed to be a part of, no matter how much he had never wanted to be part of it in the first place.
Looking to his right, he watched absently as the other side of the bed was not undone, and without worrying, eventually get up to head for the bedroom doors, the sun bathing the playroom of its last rays. Walking unhurriedly through the corridors, he crossed several rooms and meet different people before finally leaving the palace, leaving its walls to move without any hesitation towards a large building in the backward of the royal residence.
Illuminated by the flames of several torches along the steps, the long staircase of red ochre made way to an immense temple of stone and granite adorned with brightly coloured frescoes and paintings representing different Egyptian gods. Climbing the stairs one by one, the boy stopped in front of the heavy doors of the sacred shrine, pushing on one of them with all his strength to finally managing to open it. Crossing the entrance, he stopped again, suddenly more reserved, and shaking his head from right to left, continued his way to the bottom of the room filled with dozens of circular pillars.
The hieroglyphics that dotted the walls had no more brilliance, having been inscribed there too many centuries ago, fading little by little under the benevolent watch of Horus settled on a gigantic stoned throne standing in the middle, his golden Oudjat eye shining above him despite the blackness of the place. Heba looked up at the divine statue, and like every other time he had entered into the temple, examined it at length while waiting for the young king, kneeled in prayer in front of it, to say something.
"This palace really doesn't have any more secrets for you. " declared the latter at once without raising his prostrated head from the icy ground.
"I'm still amazed at the ease with which I move in there. " indicated the teenager while pouting, deciding to meet the sovereign's gaze as he was finally getting up.
"So we'll agree that I'm a good guide, then? "
"Yes! "
Smiling happily, the two boys turned back towards the exit, stopping at the edge of the stairs to sit on it nonchalantly.
"Are you still praying to the gods to help you in the war that's coming with the kingdom of Kerma? "
"I can't hide anything from you, Heba. As usual… "
Observing the stars slowly revealing themselves in the midnight-blue sky, the Pharaoh leaned backwards of his hands and stated in a light tone:
"Although, in the matter of military strategies, the decision doesn't fall to me. "
"General Neheb really gives all the orders? Without even consulting you? " asked his double, surprised, and Atem exclaimed with some disdain:
"Without consulting me, no. But in the end, he always has the last word. Even if I decided to get into the battle at the head of my army, it would still be him that the men would listen, still upon him that the decisions would incumbent. Because he's the General and, obviously, he's the one who knows best. "
"I see. "
"It's not like I can contradict that fact. Neheb was already serving my father, and his father before him. "
Nodding his head, Heba also immersed himself in the contemplation of stars, thinking for a few minutes while letting his alter ego savour the ambient silence.
"Grandpa told me that the former Pharaoh was always trying to settle conflicts peacefully. Yet you have started this war without any hesitation. "
"It appears to me I have already told you that I am not him. " the young king replied curtly, straightening up. "I love him and I respect him deeply. But I do not look like him. I would not rule according to his way, and I would not make the same mistakes as he did. "
"Hence the absolute order not to appeal to the millennium items? "
"Exactly. I don't want to have genocide on my conscience. "
Huffing, the sovereign suddenly got up, grabbing his game partner's hand to raise him in his turn, and without letting go of it, began to go down the steps slowly, heading towards the palace.
"I slept all afternoon, I'm not that sleepy anymore. " said the boy with amethyst pearls, a bit embarrassed.
"How fortunate, me neither. What about a cards game? " Atem simply answered without looking back, thus showing his desire to change his mind. Something that his companion accepted enthusiastically.
##########
The hours followed one another in interminable slowness, the meetings with the Council and the charges to be distributed between nomarchs and viziers seeming never to end. Amon-Ra illuminated the skies with his blazing rays, not a single cloud on the horizon tarnishing his radiance on the sacred plains of Egypt.
The city was in full swing in a most mysterious calm, as if the war had not just been declared, as if the men had not already left women and children to join the training camps and that the rationing of water and food had not already started. The calm before the storm. And the thunderstorm rumbling in the distance, an omen that without the millennium items, those who will fell in battle could fill Wadj-wer with their blood alone.
"The enemy troops will be more numerous. Kerma has been known for centuries for bolstering its armies with the help of mercenaries. We should expect at least 5.000 to 10.000 more men than ours. "
"It cannot be... "
"With this in mind, I suggest both a surprise attack and another in force. To begin with, we will place archers 32 feet away from the cliffs, here and there, all lined up. Before the bugle sounds, and at a specific signal, they will launch a burst of flaming arrows at the opposing troops. "
"And as for the brute force attack, what do you propose, General? "
"At that point, the enemy will be destabilised, so we will order the offensive but only to our forward soldiers. Heavy troops such as spearmen, there, chariots and horsemen. They will weaken Kerma's men a bit more before our infantry and the rest of our troops' attack. "
"Hmm… that sounds doable. The troops will be divided into 4 regiments. Mahad will be in charge of the Ptah and Thoth division in the south, and I will take charge of the Ma'at and Sebek divisions in the west. "
"Surrounded by cliffs to the east and protected by the copper mines to the north, there will be no risk of an ambush. "
"Pharaoh? "
Atem raised an eyebrow at the mention of his title, lazily raising his head until then resting in the palm of his hand. In the council chamber, silence reigned, every member of the royal palace in it, from his priests to scribes and other military leaders, observing him while awaiting his approval.
Huffing, he finally decided to look at the diorama representing the battlefield where his army would soon stand. The desert map had only mountains, sand dunes, wadis and rocky surfaces for its landscape, and was populated by small infantry soldiers, horsemen, chariots and archers made of baked clay and painted in the colours of the Pharaoh. Studying the latter meticulously, the young king began to trace an invisible line between each deployment, finally looking back at his priests and military advisers.
"Are we sure that Katimala will deploy her army there? "
"This is where her men have camped for a few days now. They are probably waiting for the last garrison before establishing a real fortified camp. " one of the scribes assured, reading a scroll of papyrus that serving as a report on the latest movements of the enemy's troops.
"Do you have any doubts, Your Majesty? "
"I'm just wondering, General Neheb. " indicated the sovereign, pouting. "The Nile is several days march away, the Wadi Allaqi is probably dry at this time of the year, and there is strictly speaking no place close to shelter from the sandstorms which are frequent in the region. "
"Could it be that she is just trying to weaken us by these means? " Mahad asked, crossing his arms suspiciously.
"At the risk of sacrificing her own troops? "
"It wouldn't surprise me of her, she's a snake blinded by ambition. Her three older brothers can testify of it in front of Osiris… "
"I take no interest in rumours, uncle. " the Pharaoh said casually as he stood up, circling the large golden table to join his army chief.
"Rumours are always based on some truth, remember that, Atem. " Aknadin muttered, turning however his head to his son as if trying to instil to him this teaching too.
"Either way, we'll have to be careful. Maybe we could ask Isis for help to get her— "
"Mahad! " Atem suddenly exclaimed, frowning.
"I… I had forgotten… " stammered the wearer of the millennium ring, lowering his head in shame. "Forgive me, Majesty. "
Letting out a small sigh, the young king contented himself with saying nothing and, grabbing the croupier stick resting on the edge of the table, began to modify the positions of each regiment.
"The archers' attack is a good idea, but no need to waste our resources on the first assault. The army on-site will press forward in close order, in columns of 4, the officers taking the rear with the main army and infantry in the centre, surrounded by chariots on each wing. Some will be equipped with bows, others with spears and the latter with axes. And the horsemen at the front, ready to launch the offensive. "
"What do you say, General Neheb? " Shimon then asked with a sarcastic smile, knowing full well that the Pharaoh's strategy was better than that of the military leader.
"I bow to the greatness of my king... " the latter replied, bowing down before the ruler who winced discreetly at the vision. There was nothing that bothered him more than the hypocrisy of those around him.
Finally returning to his seat, Atem resumed his initial position and with a weary wave of his hand, ordered his advisers to resume discussions. He had a terrible feeling that gripped his chest, preventing him from really taking part in any strategic manoeuvres... He was waging a war he knew nothing of the ins and outs, which was born out of a conflict that dated back well beyond the birth of any of his ancestors. It almost looked like...
The Shadow Game that I delivered against Bakura...
But this time, no Ka to protect him, no mythical beast to help him win, and no Dia Diank he could cling to. He must plunge into the darkness without even knowing if he could ever emerge from it. But that was his decision and he had to stick to it.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and went back to contemplating the diorama. He had a war to prepare, and he intended to be crowned the victor!
##########
"Bakura… Kul Elna… Kul Elna… Bakura… There must be something about that somewhere! "
Huffing as he fell back against the shelves behind him, Heba bit his lower lip forcefully, looking annoyed. He had spent his afternoon searching through billions of papyri, from stone books to wax tablets, moving dust and mummified beetles in search of those names that he remembered from his dream.
The library might well contain a lot of different knowledge, almost rivalling that of Alexandria, it seemed to have skipped mentioning the village of Kul Elna or a certain King of thieves named Bakura.
Unless…
It was also possible that all information concerning the latter had been destroyed in order to hide the events in which he was involved.
But if he was dreaming of all these things, if the gods had appointed him as the receiver of Bakura's memories, then surely there must be a reason for it. Whether it was to setting the record straight, punishing a fault, or simply making sure that history never gets counted without Bakura and Kul Elna also being mentioned.
A cursed village victim of the indifference and hypocrisy of the kingdom. Hundreds of lives were sacrificed without the slightest consideration, to fashion within the Millennium Stone the seven sacred objects brandished by the high priests and their Pharaoh… Whoever these people had been, they did not deserve such a fate. If their spirits were asking him for justice, he would follow their will blindly. Neither his encounter with Atem nor his dreams were due to chance. He had a role to play, which one he still had no idea...
Putting a last glance behind him, Heba finally decided to leave the place, taking the way of the royal gardens to join Mana who must have finished her session of study by this hour. He still had a few hours left before the evening meal and he hoped that the girl would have time to devote to him. He rarely bumped into anyone since the war with Kerma had officially been announced. And although he understood this situation, despite its hundreds of residents, the palace had never looked so empty, loneliness once again oppressing his heart and soul.
Maybe he should think about new strategies for some future games that Atem would most likely want to play after his duties were done...
##########
Another step forward, his foot sinking into the hot sand, burning his uncovered skin and leaving an imprint behind it that vanished the second a slight breeze rose from the openings in the steep reliefs of Qattara.
He stopped, savouring the welcome cool wind in the stifling heat of the desert. The air was getting drier and drier since he left the Hawara pyramid, drifting further and further away from the revered stream of Hapi in an attempt to reach the oasis of El-Bahariya. As long as he continued to cross the desert, no one could catch up with him and force him back to Memphis. The fleeing slaves had little chance of survival if they moved from city to city, being able to be stopped by authorities at any time, killed or worse, captured and resold by new slave traders.
He envied the workforce on the sites of tombs, pyramids and other structures ordered by the lords of the country. Even if considered also as slaves, they nevertheless benefited from much better-living conditions than he and his kind forced to serve a noble family. They cursed their fates all the more when, like him, they had never been born slaves but on the contrary had grown up as free men.
Shaking his head, he resumed his slow walk, lowering the piece of cloth covering his head and neck over his eyes. The zenith would soon reveal itself above the steep valleys, and he will have to soon face the freezing nights of the Sahara.