Episode 1, Part 2: The First Move

"Will you then accept your fate or fight it before it's too late? Trying to reclaim what's mine, regardless of the greater design!"

- Pas De Deux

Atem's first question was how to get to Isis to persuade her that she wasn't to blame for his earlier behavior. As Father had said, it was extremely unlikely he would be let in to see her. He couldn't wait until she was out of the chamber she was staying in - that would leave plenty of possible ways to miss her.

And Atem wanted to get starting on averting that future he saw as soon as possible.

That left him with one feasible option: sneaking out.

As much as Atem recalled misbehaving, the rule that he could not leave the palace unaccompanied was one he had never broken. He wasn't even sure if he could find Isis's room before someone noticed him missing.

But I have to try.

He slipped out of bed, feeling a wave of dizziness and pinpricks of pain across his forehead. Steadying himself using the bedpost, he slowly walked over to his window, parting the curtain and looking out.

The window opened directly to a section of the roof that jutted out, but said rooftop was at least twice his height straight down from his windowsill. He carefully climbed up and over the windowsill, gripping it with white-knuckled hands as he slowly lowered himself onto the brickwork.

The mud bricks, having absorbed Ra's light all that day, still felt warm under his bare feet. An odd sort of thrill went through him at the prospect of what he was about to do.

Slowly, he began to pick his way across the roof, peeking in every window he passed by to see if Isis was there.

He still had no idea where her room was.

Soon, he came to the end of that section of the roof, and had not yet found even a clue as to where Isis's room was.

He gingerly peered over the lip of the roof, at the dizzying sight of the ground below and the torches of the front gates and the Great City, the latter of which looked like tiny dots of flame from his vantage point.

Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, Atem turned and looked up at the side of the palace wall that rose up from his current height into the sky. There were bedrooms up there, but they were rarely used.

He dug his toes into a crack between the bricks and began to slowly climb his way up, freezing every time he heard the voice of one of the guards or saw a torch pass beneath him.

Twice he slipped, and he ground his teeth together to keep from shrieking as his hand scraped along the stone and his knee dashed against the bricks. Biting his lip, he slowly pulled himself up and regained his footing.

Finally, he was pulling himself up onto the top roof of the main palace, sighing and falling back onto the warm brick. After stopping to rest for not nearly long enough, he reminded himself he didn't have much time and forced himself up, slowly working his way along the edge of the roof, peering over at each balcony below.

Then he heard a voice.

"-Honestly, Lady Isis, I haven't the slightest notion why you're staying!"

"I must. What happened today was a grave offense of the Pharaoh, and I must offer penance for it."

Atem slowly crept along the rooftop, pausing over the balcony of the room where the voices were coming from to listen.

"By staying in the palace when an assassin is loose!?" The attendant spat. "And, by the gods, that prince! Such disgraceful behavior from this country's future ruler! A fine king he'd make!"

"Heba, he is only a child after all. Perhaps he shall mature as he grows."

"I think not. Can't the Pharaoh control that child!?"

"You seem awfully quick to think ill of the Pharaoh, Heba. And the prince."

"My opinions are my own."

"Not today, please, Heba. The boy undoubtedly had such a fright today. Are you insinuating he deserved such a thing?"

"No, not at all," Heba said quickly. "You should sleep on the idea, my lady. At least."

"I'll be along in a moment," Isis replied.

Then, suddenly, she was there, parting the curtain and walking out onto the balcony, looking out over the Great City.

She was clothed in a nightdress, and her hair was unveiled. Now that Atem was looking at her, he was certain.

This Isis was the Isis of Kingdom in the Sand.

The guilt-ridden priestess sworn to a Pharaoh she despised.

He could not let that be her fate. But how could he approach her? What could he say?

He was still contemplating this when his foot slipped, sending pebbles of dried mud from the brick clattering down. At the noise, Isis jumped, whirling around.

"Who's there!?" she asked fearfully.

Before Atem could even think about formulating an answer, his foot slipped the rest of the way, and he tumbled unceremoniously off the roof and onto the balcony at Isis's feet with a sharp yelp as he landed.

"By the gods! Prince Atem, is that you?" Isis exclaimed.

"Ow…ohh…" Atem murmured, barely hearing her as he nursed the bruises he had sustained from the fall. "Gods, that was the worst." He quickly forced himself up as soon as he saw Isis staring at him in confusion. "What's wrong? Did I get something on my face or something?"

"Oh… um, n-no!" Isis finally replied. "B-But… What are you doing here, climbing on the palace roof at this hour!? When an assassin is running loose, too! Your father's going to be frantic, and that's not even getting how you might have worsened your head wounds-"

"That doesn't matter right now, Lady Isis. I wanted to see you, and I didn't know if I would be allowed."

Isis eyed him somewhat suspiciously. "Why?"

"I know it looks bad, but-" Atem cleared his throat. "I wanted to apologize. For what I said about you earlier, when we met."

Isis's eyes widened. "R-Really?"

"W-Well, Father told me… he said you were considering staying, to pay penance to the crown for refusing my engagement. I-I just wanted to tell you that what happened today wasn't your fault - it was mine. A-And you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"Are you telling me to leave?" Isis asked coolly.

"No! No!" Atem exclaimed - this was going all wrong! "I mean… just that you're not obligated to stay. I… don't want you to pledge service to me because you have to…especially if you don't like me after today…" Atem fidgeted with his hands. "Just… yes. That's it."

"What's going on out here!?" Heba asked, barging onto the balcony. Her face immediately drained of color. "The prince!"

Atem's first instinct upon seeing her was to confront her on what she had been saying just minutes ago about him and about Father, but another part of him stopped himself.

Heba had every right to be upset.

She was only looking after Isis's welfare, after all.

So his reply to her was a calm nod. "I just wanted to talk to Lady Isis."

"You shouldn't even be out of bed! And here you are climbing around on the roof like a baboon!?"

"I wasn't sure if I would be let in, and it was urgent." Atem explained. Heba's eyes widened in surprise.

"What were you talking about?" she asked Isis.

"He was apologizing to me for his earlier behavior, Heba. And I think you ought to let Lord Atem speak for himself," Isis said.

"Oh! Er…" Heba turned to Atem.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier. I had no right, and Isis shouldn't feel obligated to rectify my mistake."

Heba gave a helpless, shocked look at Isis.

"Wh-Whatever your reasons, you shouldn't be out of bed!" Heba finally said. She grabbed Atem's wrist and pulled him through the curtain, into then out of Isis's bedchamber, and to the nearest guard.

"What seems to be the problem, my lady? Oh!" the guard began, only to see Atem trailing guiltily behind her. "Lord Atem! Your majesty, you mustn't be wandering around in your condition-"

"I was fine, sir. My head isn't hurting anymore, and I don't feel very dizzy…"

"So he says, he was apologizing for his earlier outburst," Heba said. "He got it into his head that a good way to find her was to climb onto the roof and enter through the balcony like a thief. I knew he had been confined to his room to recover, so I brought him straight to you."

"I wasn't sure-" Atem began, only for Heba to glare down at him.

"Thank you for that. I expect you and your charge want to go to bed. I will return Lord Atem to his bedchamber."

Atem sighed. At least he had gotten his message to Isis.

The guard effortlessly picked him up and began carrying him back toward his room. "You know I will have to tell your father about this. I mean, climbing to the roof, at this hour? In addition, I had to leave my post to bring you back; what if the assassin returned? You know better than that, my prince - I'm sure of it."

"I had to-"

"Please, don't speak. Save your strength."

The guard entered his room and placed him on his bed, and Atem crawled under the covers, not really able to protest. His venture across the roof had left him exhausted.

The door flew open just as he had been about to drift off, and Father entered, accompanied by the healer and another guard.

"Atem!"

Atem buried his face in the duck-feather pillow. "Mph…Father?"

"There's no point in pretending to be asleep, I already know everything," Father said sternly. He sat down on the bed.

"So, why? Why did you sneak out of your room, climb onto the roof, and venture into Isis's room in the middle of the night? When an assassin was sighted in the palace walls, no less?"

"I needed to apologize to her, Father," Atem said, an edge of desperation entering his voice. "I needed to tell her what happened today wasn't her fault! Lady Isis doesn't have to work for me - she did nothing wrong!"

"Atem, calm yourself," Father sighed, pulling Atem into a half-embrace. "Isis's decision shouldn't be something you should worry about; I already told you that. And you could very easily have gotten hurt up there, or even killed! Please, never scare me like that again!"

"I…I'm sorry for worrying you, Father," Atem whispered into Father's chest as another cold truth filtered into his mind from Yugi's memories.

'..Pharaoh Atem is so bratty that his wanton cruelty and selfish behavior drove his father to death from worry…'

Father's hair and beard, streaked with gray, fell in a safe curtain around Atem's face as Atem huddled closer to his touch.

How have I not noticed? Father's always seemed so ill…

Is there really no way to avert what's going to happen?

…Am I still the villain?

"You're alright, Atem. I can hardly scold you for wanting to do what is right. Now, to sleep with you. It has been a trying day for us all."

Father's sad, worn face at that moment occupied his thoughts well after Father left the room.

The next morning, Atem was gently shaken awake at first light to have his bandages changed out. As this was being done, Atem, trying to sound firm without being demanding, asked to see what his wound looked like under the wrappings.

The healer, whose name, he learnt, was Naunet, looked surprised, but followed through on his request, giving him a handheld looking glass and then taking the bandages off.

Atem winced: the wounds on his head looked much nastier than he had anticipated - a dark red slash across his forehead, dividing it in two lengthwise, and a gash in the shape of an uneven, ragged star below that, discoloring one eyelid and reaching out towards his temple.

Just like the ones Pharaoh Atem has in Kingdom in the Sand.

It seemed like his actions yesterday had not been enough. The game was still on course.

He was still doomed.

After the bandages had been secured into place, Atem was then allowed to rest. However, he didn't sleep.

Instead, he planned. He opened his scrolls and began to jot down ideas on what to do next.

If I am exiled, the first thing I will have to do is find a way to support myself.

I will have to find food and find work, possibly even in a foreign land. It doesn't say anything about what my exile entails in the game, but it does say that, since in the game Pharaoh Atem does not know how to care for himself without his wealth or title, he eventually turns to begging, and starves to death.

In order for that not to happen, the most logical thing was learning how to look after himself without help, right?

But what did that mean, exactly?

Well, I could learn to hunt and fish. That would cover food.

But what about work?

Atem heard only snatches of gossip from the wider kingdom, carried on the lips of servants just back from visiting their families.

They say that farmers are always looking for new workers to tend their fields. If I got good enough I could always start planting my own food, too, in case fish or game gets scarce. The brickyards could always use another worker, too. But that's if I'm allowed to stay in the country. What if I am exiled to the wilderness south, or the northern trade provinces?

Could he promise himself as a slave to a merchant in the north? Work for one of the tribes to the south?

What if he found no work at all? If his reputation was soured enough by what happened in-game, perhaps no one would want him to work for them, even as an unpaid slave.

Keep calm, he reminded himself. I have ten years to prepare for this, and all the information a man can feasibly learn because of how many scholars are friends of my father.

If worse came to worst, perhaps there were scrolls housed in the palace about surviving off the land.

Atem carefully wrote down 'Surviving Exile', then a series of short lists below that, which read:

Food:

Stay by rivers if I can for a reliable source of clean running water - and fish.

Learn to hunt

Learn how fishermen create and mend nets

Learn to fish

Learn to tend crops

Sources of Work:

Farmers on the outskirts seem to always need new workers; could learn from them to start tending fields of my own

Ask at the brickyards.

Go north following the merchants to the trading provinces.

Surrender my life to a tribesman of the southern countries.

Once he was done with those lists, he added another small list:

'Surviving Death (Murder or Execution)':

Execution:

Don't bully Mana or Maahad - or any of the people they fall in love with.

Don't leave anything that could incriminate me in bullying either

Murder:

Train myself to recognize poisons (both magical and mundane) and how to make antidotes.

Train my self defense skills (sword fighting, hand-to-hand, etc)

Train in magic (specifically magic duels/combative spells).

Satisfied with his lists, Atem moved on to the next possibility on his list of fates: a lifetime of insanity, locked in the palace dungeon.

He was actually rather stumped on avoiding that one.

How does one not go insane? He tried to remember what had prompted his future self to snap in the game world.

Bakura's good ending, where Bakura is pardoned and Mana marries him, and Siamun and the people all favor Bakura to be king over Atem. Losing his birthright and his possession of Mana causes the Pharaoh to lose his mind.

In Mana's bad ending, Atem attacks Mana with a knife in an attempt to force her to give up Maahad or die. Mana refuses, and Atem flies into a rage and beats her to such an extent that she can no longer remember her name, walk, or talk. Maahad is unable to wed her in that condition, but insists that he will never submit to Atem in any way. Having seen that no matter what he does, he cannot have Maahad to himself, Atem cannot handle this revelation and loses his mind.

Jealousy seemed to be the prime motivator.

So, just don't get jealous? Of the people liking Bakura over him? Of Maahad or Mana being permanently out of his reach?

I haven't met them yet, so I can't accurately assess if that's possible yet. Maybe-

There was a soft knock at his door.

"Yes?" Atem asked.

The door opened, revealing three people standing behind it, who all filed over to his bedside.

"Father? Lady Heba? Lady Isis?" Atem sat up and pushed his scrolls aside where they couldn't be readily seen.

"Hello, Prince Atem," Isis said, her voice lighter and happier than yesterday. "You're looking much better! How's your head feeling?"

"It doesn't hurt that much anymore; the bandages are just a precaution."

"Aren't you worried you'll have a scar?"

"The nurse said I might. But there's nothing that can be done about that, and it won't be all that noticeable, I'm sure."

"Won't be that noticeable? It covers half his forehead from what the healer told us-"

"Please, Lady Heba," Father said. He smiled. "Go on, Lady Isis."

"I remember what you told me last night, Prince Atem," Isis said softly. "That I didn't have to stay as a priestess if I didn't want to. I'm sure since you didn't mention it you still reject my betrothal."

"Um… Yeah. I mean - I don't - not that I don't want to marry you specifically, I just - I'm not sure what to think about marriage right now. To anyone." He frowned. "In fact, I… I think that there is someone out there infinitely better than me for you to share your life with. Who will make you happier than I ever could."

Father exchanged a surprised glance with Heba at Atem's frank honesty.

Isis smiled. "Stop, I understand. I wasn't… sure about the idea myself. However, I still want to swear myself to you."

"Y-You do?"

Isis's smile grew, and she reached as far as her small hands could reach and took his own hand. "Yes, I do. Not as a wife, nor as a slave to her family's debt of honor, but as the prince's close advisor…" She squeezed his hand once. "And as his true friend."

"...really?" Atem asked nervously (Where had this come from? He didn't remember this from the game…).

"Yes, really."

"But, Lady Isis, if you are not betrothed to the prince, who shall you marry?"

"As the prince himself said, perhaps there is someone waiting for me. For now, I shall remain a priestess, tied to no one but the gods." A mischievous twinkle entered her eyes. "And the future Pharaoh, should he choose to seek counsel from me someday."

Heba opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it again. "I shall… prepare a message informing your family of this choice."

"Thank you, Heba, for letting me make it." She turned to Atem. "And thanks be to you as well."

She bowed. "I must go and prepare myself to begin my study. I shall see you again, my prince."

She quietly exited, followed by Heba.

Father was the only one still there.

"Whatever you said to her last night, it made quite the impression. Just, please, don't make a habit of visiting her that way."

"I won't, Father," Atem promised. "Unless I have to."

Father chuckled at that. "You're so much like your mother," he said, pulling Atem into a hug.

"Lord Pharaoh," a voice said.

It was a manservant standing at the door, looking worried.

"Yes?"

"The Sacred Court wants to meet with you regarding the search for the armed intruder from yesterday."

Father looked tired as he said. "Of course. I will be there shortly." He looked apologetically at Atem.

"I know, Father. I'll be fine."

Father smiled a resigned, sad smile.

"Just like your mother," he muttered as he left the room.

Atem was left to ponder what had just happened alone.

Isis swore herself to me just like in the game… but I don't remember her saying those things in the game…

Am I still on the path to doom?

Atem shook his head, reminding himself he had to stay calm.

I'm not doomed yet. I just have to do more.

He wasn't going to lie down and take this fate.

Not without a real fight.