Atem paced around his inner chamber, thoughts of the High Priestess's words running through his head. The darkness lives within our walls as well. The young king swung around for yet another turn down the length of his lavish private apartment, faintly amused that he had worn nary a groove in the cold stone. He had become puzzled as to what the cryptic message could mean, although, deep within, he could feel something stir.
With that sensation came one of the Pharaoh's most vivid flashbacks, one that had been teasing on the fringes of his memory since his return to Egypt. Now, it swam into the full focus of his mind's eye, in all its horror.
"It only needs one of us, so I'm letting the Seal take me instead," he could still hear Yugi say. His face, smiling sadly, was then enveloped by the sickly green light, as his soul shot up into the sky to join the zillions of sacrifices made to the Great Leviathan. "No! YUGI!" Atem heard himself yell in his memory, breathless and horror-stricken at the magnitude of the sacrifice Yugi had made to save him.
To this day, the Pharaoh still felt that, had he taken Yugi's place, he would have been given his just deserts for everything he and those kings before him had done. With the disappearance of his best friend's face came the darkness: that evil force which consumed the space in Atem's heart that Yugi had previously filled. It brought a need for solitude, along with a continuous anger smoldering within him that the just ruler could not have explained before that fateful event.
Realizing the need for solitude was what he'd been thinking of, Atem strode over to a gilded chest in the corner of his chamber. From this he withdrew a cloak befitting his status, yet it was one well-suited to the prospect of disguising royalty: floor-length, and hooded, so it would cover both his conspicuous sandals and crown. Throwing it over himself, Atem slipped out his chamber door, avoiding the light of the flickering torches that were placed in sconces down the royal corridors, and merely glancing at the guards that knew better than to stop him during one of his nightly excursions.
Making his way down the halls, he soon came to a side door that was a favorite escape route of his when the pressures of his title demanded that he rest his mind. Opening it, he went through, glancing around should anyone take notice, but of course at such a late hour most of his Council would be taking their rest. The only guards posted would be those on night patrol, and they would only be watching the main entrances. Once again, without an escort, Atem walked alone among the desert sands, thankful for the cool night air and the various sounds that allowed him to take a respite. However, one sound stood apart from the murmurings of the beasts and insects a-prowl on their nocturnal hunts.
It was a simple song, yet an almost timeless tune, even when it fell on untrained ears; a haunting melody. Carried on the wind from the direction of the village, it fell pure and sweet on the king's restless mind. Unbidden, as if pulled by the escaping part of his soul, Atem's feet guided him until he was standing in the shadow of the humble building opposite it, across the way. The singer was framed against flickering firelight in the only window of the one-story building. Her arm resting on the stone windowsill, she looked to be a young girl almost his age, with dark-brown eyes, tan skin, and raven hair. Her arched eyebrows gave her a determined countenance, yet her gaze was soft as she looked up into the night sky, her hair falling just past her shoulder-blades; a stark contrast to the white linen dress she wore.
Atem had never seen one so regal in his court; not in the dancing girls that performed for him in the palace's frequent ceremonies, nor in the ladies that came to reside in his court seeking his hand to form this alliance or that treaty. He could only stare in wonder at this girl without blot or blemish, whose wordless tune rose to the gods themselves. Then, that dark stirring came again, and Atem knew that, should he stay silent, the very goodness of her song would cause a part of him to turn to far darker thoughts.
"By Ra . . ." He started forward a few steps, until he was in a shaft of moonlight.
A soft gasp came from her as her clouded eyes bade her back into reality, and she abruptly stopped singing as she gave a start and looked about. It wasn't long for her dark-adjusted eyes to find Atem. Her eyes widening fractionally, she asked, "Who are you to be watching me in the dead of night?"
"Forgive me, perhaps I can be of more clarity," the Pharaoh said, the corner of his mouth twitching at her pride. He came forward a few paces more, lowering his hood as he did so.
He noticed her arm jerk slightly on the sill in surprise, and move towards her body as though to protect herself. Her face underwent a similar change as she gasped once, her eyes widened a little more, then it passed as she bowed her head deeply. "I sincerely hope that you will accept my apology, my king."
"All is forgiven," Atem said as she raised her head in surprise. "I believe your song has made up for that slight. Tell me, wherever did you learn that tune?"
Gazing briefly up at the stars again, as a little color came into her cheeks, she replied, "My father taught it to me when I was younger."
"It sounded like it did not have its origins in Egypt. Might he have learned it somewhere else?" Atem found himself becoming slightly surprised at his own words. To think that here he was, entranced through the song of what appeared to be a mere peasant, a girl no less, and he was speaking to her as an equal! Seto, his High Priest, could very well be called a hypocrite for going against the one rule he had warned the Pharaoh against (with Kisara, since it was the palace's worst kept secret.): that the bloodline of any classes lower than royalty must not have the power to attract His Highness's attention, let alone anything else. However, reflecting on how he had been compelled to speak, Atem merely shrugged that warning off, for surely the girl before him could do no harm. All this raced through his head in the matter of a few seconds, as he kept his attention on her.
"Yes. He traveled to many lands when he served in the army, and he learned it himself during his journeys." Lowering her gaze and smiling softly at the sill, she said, "Consequently, I would always ask him for the name of that place, as it was something of an ongoing banter between us. Yet every time he came home, he would always say, "One more journey, my Rania. Perhaps I'll return to that land to learn more of that divine music."" A little red tinged her cheeks at, the Pharaoh guessed, the realization that she had unwittingly given the King her name, yet in a little haste, as though to hide it, she took a breath and continued, "Therefore, I gained something one normally wouldn't expect a commander's daughter to have: a love of music and song."
A commander's daughter? The Pharaoh's mind raced to connect any general- that may have been under himself or his father- with a passion for music. Eventually, he lit on a match, which was a memory of his own father telling him of one such person. Returning his gaze solely on Rania, for his eyes had strayed to the firelight behind her while he was thinking, he asked, "Was his name Aharon?"
"Yes!" The girl locked her gaze with Atem again quickly, wonder and a hint of fear showing itself in her doe-brown eyes. "But how did you know of him? He was killed long before you took the throne!"
Nodding in agreement with her statement, experiencing similar feelings to what he guessed she was going through, the Pharaoh explained hesitantly, "As the succeeding king, it was my duty to learn everything I could about how to conduct the people, especially my soldiers. Thus, my father told me of yours, as an example of whom I should choose to lead my army."
"He and his advisors must have prepared you well for your reign. My condolences, my lord, for the late King, Aknemkanan." Atem thought he must have been staring a little too intently at her, in surprise at her words, for Rania reddened and fell silent, nervously scratching at the stone sill with one fingernail.
She looked up in mirrored awe when Atem responded to her offer with the like: "I am equally sorry about Commander Aharon. He was a good man, as well as a valuable friend and loyal protector of my father."
Rania gave him a thankful smile that made the young king feel as though he was far above being King of Egypt. He waited as she looked about to speak, then she looked over her white-clad shoulder toward a female murmur from the humble hearth that the king had seen through the window, for he had moved progressively forward for a few paces while conversing with Rania. Turning back, she said, "I am afraid I have to retire for the night, my lord. It is my mother's wish that I shan't be up so late."
"That is quite understandable, Rania. I should do so as well, so as not to set the palace by the ears." Viewing the slight reluctance in her eyes, and hearing the regret in her voice, it was for this reason that Atem made this quip: to see the genuine smile grace her mouth, and to see her doe-brown eyes light up after the previous subjects they had discussed. Smiling himself, Atem turned away to begin his trek back to the palace, but suddenly a thought occurred to him. Taking a few paces forward before turning back to the humble edifice, he said, rather sharply, "Rania."
"Yes?" Visible once again was fear, however, in her wide eyes it was the first real fear that Atem had seen during the entirety of their conversation. It is more than just my authority over people like her . . . No, it is indeed something else . . . But what? She had abruptly whirled around from where she'd been moving toward the fire, and now, her arms at her sides, she looked anxiously out the window at him.
"Would you . . . Could you . . . sing for me?"
It was such a simple request that he had actually expected her to refuse. Surprisingly, Rania nodded her head and cleared her throat in answer. In an instant, through her open mouth came the pure melody of before, as she took her seat at the window once more.
Satisfied, Atem watched her for a few more moments, nodding and smiling encouragingly whenever it looked like she grew nervous. Then he walked back across the desert sands, his hood up, with Rania's music settling on his soul like balm on a long-infected wound. Each day, he could feel the darkness move within him like a restless beast, and even during the past encounter it had briefly arisen at the sensation of Rania's fear, longing to slowly and agonizingly extend its own power over her. For the Orichalcos had sensed one of the brightest souls it had come across in a long time, and eventually, as was only natural, the darkness would prevail over the radiance.
The work of man's greatest fear was never done.
...
Hey, Fanfic world! Catbracy here. Welcome to the end of my second chapter! This is the only fanfic that I think I'll actually finish with good ideas, so I hope you enjoy the next time I update. I don't know if any of you have noticed, but I'm loosely basing Atem's character off of the Phantom from the Phantom of the Opera, and I might be drawing inspiration from his YGO Season 0 version as well. I thought that'd be an interesting mashup, so I hope you find it good too! If anybody has any suggestions for down the road, I'd be willing to incorporate them, depending on how the story goes, so yeah! I'm looking forward from hearing from you guys!
