AN: I recently fell down the Yu-Gi-Oh rabbit hole after not having watched/read it for over a decade. I never actually knew how the Millennium arc ended, so when I finally finished both the manga and the anime, I was actually kind of disappointed at how little time was spent in ancient Egypt. Poor Atem was on the throne for what… 2 days before he disappeared? Not much of a legacy if you ask me. So I came up with this little scenario to give Atem a bit of color to his backstory and some claims to fame other than sealing himself in the puzzle for 3,000 years. That said, this will obviously be a bit off-canon (for the Millennium arc at least), and I fully admit that my knowledge of the dueling/magic casting rules of this universe are foggy at best, so excuse any departures on that front. Regardless, I hope you enjoy my little story! Leave a follow/fav/review if you do :)
Atem clutched his chest in pain. No matter how many times he dueled, he would never get used to the way he could feel every injury dealt to his spirit creature. He looked up to see the apparition he had summoned doubled over just as he was. Naladeus was a powerful creature — a spellcaster cloaked in animal skins and sporting a large summoning staff — but she was no match for her opponent: Krokodilis, the crocodile warrior, loomed over her and bared his sharp white teeth in a grin of satisfaction before sweeping his long, green-scaled tail and piercing Naladeus' heart.
Atem collapsed to his knees as Naladeus turned to dust before his eyes.
A moment later, triumphant laughter erupted from behind Krokodilis. "Well done, little brother — you lasted almost twice as long as our last duel! But you still have much to learn."
Atem sat back on his heels as his brother, Tefnak stepped into the light. Twenty-four years old to Atem's nineteen, and with all the experience to match, Tefnak was everything Atem was not: sculpted in Ra's image, he had shoulders as broad as a hypostyle pillar and arms powerful enough to lift one. His closely trimmed beard accentuated the mature angles of his jaw and set the backdrop for his pearly-white smile. Atem and his brother resembled each other only in small ways: in the calm violet eyes they shared with their mother, and in their dark hair streaked with blonde and tipped in indigo, which Tefnak wore cropped close to his head on one side and windswept on the other. With his striking good looks and charismatic personality, Tef turned heads wherever he went.
The crown prince laughed again and stepped down into the dueling pitch, waving his arm to disperse his summoned monster back to its tablet, which stood erected at the back of the domed arena. As his brother approached, Atem moved to stand. Tef reached out to assist, pulling Atem up easily by his shoulders and dusting him off.
"I'm sorry if I disappointed you, brother," Atem said quietly. He avoided Tefnak's eyes, instead staring intently at the Millennium Ring around his brother's neck.
"Nonsense!" Tef boomed. "You gave it your best, right?"
Atem looked up and nodded.
"Then that's all I can ask for," Tef said. "Keep practicing, and one day you'll best me. I have faith in you."
Atem felt a stirring in his soul at this. In his father's court, he was surrounded by inspiring individuals — powerful priests and fearsome warriors — but there was no one he looked up to more than Tefnak.
"Come, let us replenish our souls with food and drink and tell Father of our harrowing battle!"
Tef ruffled Atem's hair before taking him under his arm and leading the way out of the training arena.
Before they left, Tef stopped to give some directions to the guards who had come to take the stone summoning slabs back to their sanctuaries. Five years ago, their father the Pharaoh had bequeathed to Tefnak the Millennium Ring, naming him Chief Priest of the Royal Conclave — the most prestigious sect of spellcasters hand-picked from all across Egypt. As such, he spent nearly all of his spare time in the training complex — and as Tef's shadow, Atem was no stranger to it either. Waging duels and leading his priests was Tefnak's true passion, but Atem knew his brother was only one heartbeat away from being Pharaoh of all Egypt — and that meant Atem himself would need to be ready to take his brother's place as military commander at any moment. While this was a fate that excited him and inspired him, it also gave him great anxiety knowing he was still a novice in magical manipulation compared to Tef.
As they walked the halls back to the main palace, Atem and Tefnak recounted the turns of their recent battle with joy. They were about to round the corner to the main hall when a high, bright voice rang out behind them: "Papo!"
A shining smile was already plastered on Tef's face by the time he turned to see the tiny form of his five-year-old son streaking out of the darkness at him. "Meriti!" Tef cried, kneeling down and opening his arms. Meriti flung himself into the waiting embrace, and Tef grunted with joy as he lifted the boy high above his head. "My little soldier! What are you doing prowling the dark halls like a ghoul, huh?"
A soft laugh from behind them announced the arrival of Nebetah, Tef's wife. Her warm skin glowed in the torchlight, her wild black curls forming a sweeping halo around her head. "You try keeping up with an energetic young boy for a whole day," she said, chuckling, "then ask that question again."
"Neb, my love," Tef said. He put Meriti on his shoulder, then shifted to embrace and kiss his wife. Neb was then quick to turn to Atem, grinning playfully.
"So," she said. "Did you finally put him in his place?"
Embarrassed, Atem smiled and shook his head.
"Next time, for sure," Tef interjected.
"No way!" Meriti cried. "Nobody can beat Papo in a duel! He's invincible!"
Tef smiled and tickled Meriti. "No man is invincible, my son. You'd do well to remember that."
Meriti giggled. "Yes, Papo."
The four of them continued on to the great hall to find the dinner feast already waiting for them. Their father, the great Pharaoh Aknamkanon, was seated at the head of the table, and his advisors — the Sacred Guardians of the Millennium Items — were crowded around him, speaking in hushed tones.
Unsurprisingly, Isis was the first to notice their presence. She turned, her Millennium Necklace gleaming. A silence fell over the remaining five priests. A moment later, they dispersed to their own seats at the other end of the table, leaving only Shimon, the Pharaoh's vizier and Guardian of the Millennium Key, standing by the king's side. Atem, Tef and his family moved into the new void to sit beside the Pharaoh.
"Father, what was that all about?" Tef asked, quiet enough so only Shimon could hear, who was now seated next to Atem.
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Tefnak," the Pharaoh said. "We can discuss it later. For now, I want to hear about your duel with Atem."
Tef broke out in a smile as his mind quickly changed course. He delved into the story while filling his plate with food, embellishing the details and making huge gestures with his hands. Atem simply smiled and nodded when he was addressed — Tef was definitely the more talkative of the two of them, but Atem didn't mind it.
By the time he'd finished the story, their plates were cleared and all were sitting back in their seats, satisfied.
"A shame you couldn't beat him this time," Aknamkanon said to Atem. "But it sounds like it was a close duel. I hope you're learning everything you can from your brother."
Atem nodded enthusiastically.
"Good," his father said. There was a pause, and Atem saw the Pharaoh and Shimon look at one another. "Then come, follow me to the war room. There's something I wish to discuss — with both of you."
Atem's pulse quickened. He'd never been to the war room before. It wasn't an area of the palace that was frequently used — most of the kingdom had been at peace since the ascension of Aknamkanon to the throne nearly thirty years prior.
His father rose from the table, prompting Atem, Tef and Shimon to do the same. Meriti waved to them all as they followed the Pharaoh out of the great hall.
Atem could feel his heart beating in time with his footsteps as they walked through the palace to the war room. Upon approach, the two guards standing watch at the entrance moved to part the doors for the king.
Atem's eyes were immediately drawn to the large, square table at the center of the room, upon which sat a large papyrus with a scale model of Egypt painted on it. Scattered on the surface were dozens of what looked like wooden game pieces — small ships, horses and soldiers clustered across Egypt's towns and cities. The map was worn at the edges, and the paint had begun to fade from years of the models scraping across its surface, but Atem could clearly see every major port and town labeled carefully and with canny accuracy — Raqote, Iunu, Khem to the north, Sumenu, Abdju and Akhetaten to the south. Labeled in gold to set it apart from the others was Thebes — the capital of the kingdom and home to the Pharaoh. There were wooden models of all types clustered around Thebes and its surrounding cities. Atem was quick to notice the only other city with such a presence was Memphis — the great religious and cultural site of Lower Egypt. Atem hadn't seen the city since he was a boy, but he remembered it fondly — visiting its great temples and witnessing the impressive magic wielded by the priests of Sekhmet, the war goddess.
"My sons," Aknamkanon spoke, causing Atem to stand up straighter. "The priests receive word from the north — a small uprising is taking root in Memphis, led by the local nomarch Metjen."
"Rebels?" Tef hissed. "What cause do they have for stirring such treachery?"
"Calm yourself, Tefnak," Aknamkanon said. "Rebellion is far too strong a term — their uprising has not yet grown violent. Simply whispers and idle threats at this point."
Shimon spoke up now. "Metjen and his court are more … traditional when it comes to the use of magic in our kingdom," he explained. "Put simply, they consider the Millennium Items to be heretical."
Tef made an offended sound. "How dare they lay such claims!" he exclaimed. "The Items have secured peace across the kingdom for the first time in centuries."
"Metjen doesn't see it that way," the king responded. "Remember, Tefnak, that there was once a time when priests and spellcasters could only summon the ka which lived within their own souls. Now, with the construction of the Wedju Shrines, those we anoint to our Conclave can summon any of the thousands of creatures we have sealed in stone."
Tef scoffed. "So you're saying he's envious of our abilities."
"Perhaps," Shimon said. "But we cannot discount his feelings on this matter. Metjen is a beloved and respected leader in Lower Egypt. As such, his grievances must be taken seriously."
Tef looked vexed. "So what would you have us do, Father?"
"That is why I've called you both here," Aknamkanon replied. "I would like you to tell me how you would approach this issue."
Atem and Tefnak exchanged nervous glances. "Us?" Tef said. "But you are the Pharaoh. We do as you command."
Their father smiled. "There will come a time when I will no longer be here to guide you, my sons," he said. "Before then, I want you both to know as much about diplomacy and politics as you do about warfare and magic."
"Father, do not speak of your death with such candor," Tef said.
Aknamkanon laughed softly. "Anubis comes for us all," he said. "Even god-kings must one day return to the Duat."
A silence hung heavy in the war room. Even the crackling torches seemed to grow quiet in the wake of the king's words.
"So tell me, my sons," Aknamkanon finally said. "What would you do with Metjen and his followers, if you were Pharaoh?"
Tefnak leaned over the map, his eyes tracing along the blue line of the Nile. "You say Metjen has not yet grown violent," he started, "so a full military strike would be excessive at this point." He paused, then took hold of one of the wooden ships from Thebes and moved it to Memphis. "Still, his treachery cannot go unpunished. Let me take a squadron of my finest men and challenge his priests to a duel. When we prevail, we will imprison his ka and ensure he can never use magic again."
Aknamkanon looked hard at Tefnak. "A bold strategy, my son," he said. "If you were to be successful, it would surely send a strong message to all of Egypt."
Tef looked pleased. Aknamkanon turned his gaze to Atem, who met his father's eyes nervously.
"Atem, you have been quiet," the king said. "Tell me — do you approve of your brother's approach?"
Atem was silent for a long time. He looked down at the wooden ship Tef had moved to Memphis. "Tefnak's strategy would most definitely showcase the might of the crown's magic," Atem admitted. He spoke slowly, and avoided his brother's eyes. "But I wonder… Isn't magic the source of all this strife to begin with?"
Aknamkanon looked surprised, and Atem couldn't tell if this was good or bad. "What do you mean?"
"Shimon, you said Metjen is a traditionalist, right?" Atem continued, prompting a nod from Shimon. "Well, if we travel to Memphis only to crush his uprising with magic he considers heretical, wouldn't that only ingrain Metjen further in his dated ideology?" Atem looked from Shimon to his father. "Wouldn't it be better to try and convince him to change his way of thinking on the matter? To show him our new powers are nothing to be afraid of?"
"And how would you propose to do that?" his father asked.
Atem reached out and picked up the Theban ship. He added a piece from Memphis to his hand, then moved them both back to Upper Egypt. "We invite Metjen and his priests to Thebes," he said, a smile coming to his lips at how easily the plan was forming in his mind. "We show them the Wedju Shrines, and the power of the Millennium items." For the first time, Atem looked at his brother, and his smile immediately fell. Tef looked as though he had daggers in his eyes. Atem cleared his throat and continued: "We could even treat Metjen to a sporting duel, as a way to demonstrate what he would face if he were to truly rebel."
Not a shadow of emotion could be read on Aknamkanon's face, and Atem was beginning to regret ever opening his mouth. After a moment though, the Pharaoh smiled, the flames flickering in his eyes. "A very wise approach, Atem," he said. "One that may be able to preserve our relationship with Metjen."
Atem would have been beaming if not for his brother's eyes boring into the side of his skull from across the table.
"I will take both of your proposals to the court," Aknamkanon continued. "Once we come to a decision, we will send word to Memphis."
Atem nodded, still concealing his pride.
"That will be all," the Pharaoh commanded. Atem, Tefnak and Shimon gave curt bows before turning to leave.
As the doors parted, Atem did not fail to notice the speed with which his brother left his side. Atem stood on the threshold of the war room and watched him disappear down the long, dark hall. Shimon placed a hand on Atem's shoulder, finally wrenching his eyes away from the darkness.
"You have wisdom beyond your years, my prince," he said. "You should be proud of yourself."
Atem forced a half-smile, then turned back to the war room. His father was organizing a stack of papyri, but he looked up and offered a solemn nod before the guards closed the doors.