Episode 2, Part 1: A Thief in the Night

"There's parts of me I cannot hide. I've tried and tried a million times."

- Darkside

Being head maid to the Pharaoh meant Berenike had seen some strange things.

But, of all the things she had witnessed, she never expected to come across this on her morning walk.

An entire section of the palace garden's lawn had been dug up, and a small channel had been dug from it to the decorative pond, and then around the turned-up section of earth.

And five-year-old Prince Atem was digging out furrows with a borrowed hoe almost too large and heavy for him to lift, his small face twisted in concentration, stopping every so often to wipe away sweat from his brow.

"Lord Atem…?" Berenike began.

"Oh! Berenike!" Atem realized, dropping the hoe and turning around to face her. Berenike had forced herself to quickly get used to the sound of the prince greeting her by name, when, up until several days ago, her designation, in the eyes of the spoilt prince, was "Maid" when he was feeling polite and "you" when he was not - or when he was in the middle of a tantrum. It was no longer as much of a shock as the first time, when Atem had awoken suddenly after his accident and - dizzily from the strong blow to his head - slurred her name and begged her not to leave him, but it took her a moment to collect herself each time.

"...What are you doing?"

"Do you like it?"

"Like…what?"

"My farm, Berenike, do you like it?" At Berenike's no-doubt visible confusion, he elaborated, "I wanted to get closer to the river to see if I could make it there, but the guards said it was too dangerous. See, I'm using water from the pond to make channels all around to make sure the plants have water, and I'm in the middle of tilling the ground to prepare for seeds! I don't have any seeds yet, though…" He said this with a frown, before his bright demeanor returned and he beamed, looking utterly pleased with himself.

So pleased with himself, in fact, that Berenike could not bring herself to scold him for digging up a sizable chunk of the garden.

Instead, she asked, "Lord Atem… not that I'm upset that you decided to do this, just… What in Hathor's name do you want a farm for - or need a farm for?"

Atem looked anxious. "Just… you know, I wanted to learn how the farmers do it."

"My prince, I am proud you were able to figure this out by yourself, but… did you have to till up the garden to do it?"

Atem looked at the ground, embarrassment dusting his face red. "I wanted to go somewhere closer to the river, but nobody would let me."

"As they should; the banks of the Nile are no place for you to be on your own."

Atem frowned at this answer, before replying, "That's okay, it's easier with it being so close anyway." This was said with the biggest smile she had ever seen from the young prince, before he turned back to his work, straining with the garden hoe and grimacing in effort. Berenike didn't want to leave Atem alone, especially working with gardening tools too big for him to handle, but she did see Karim of the guard watching him, so she assumed he could intervene if anything went awry. With that, Berenike continued her walk.

He paused once as Berenike was walking back to the garden gate.

"Berenike!" he called, waving her over.

"Yes, my prince?"

"Can you ask someone to come with me to the Great City? I want to know if anyone's selling seeds."

"...Yes, of course."

Once inside, she asked one of the other maids, a young girl named Dinah, about Atem's behavior.

"Oh, yes, he's been acting odd ever since his injury during the attack. Just yesterday, he asked Karim to teach him how to fight with a sword, and he was begging Lord Abraxas for help in combative spells. A petitioner came to the palace looking for work - an old fisherman named Ramses - and Atem interrupted the meeting to ask the poor man for help in learning to fish."

"At his age?" Berenike asked. She thought back to how terrified he had been the night he had awakened. "Is he afraid of something? Like the assassin coming back? It's almost like he's planning for the worst…"

"I never thought he would be one to think that far ahead - but now…" Dinah shook her head. "He's become a new boy. I blame the head injury, but… I can't say I'm unhappy with the change."

"Well, I don't want him hurting himself if he insists on making his own farm or teaching himself the fisherman's craft, or learning self-defense techniques, or… or whatever idea strikes his head next! He shall be six at the third decade of the next harvest, and that is no age to worry about taking care of oneself as a pauper or fending off an attempt on his life!"

"I can't say why he's suddenly developed such interests any more than you can, Lady Berenike," Dinah replied. "I just know that he's become much more civil for it, whatever it was."

"And much more strange…" Berenike whispered.

"He showed you his farm, did he?"

"Yes." After a moment, Berenike added, "He wants to go to the outer Great City to see if anyone is selling seeds."

"Alone?"

"No, thank the gods. He's not a fool. He asked me to find someone willing to accompany him."

"Ah, I see."

Meanwhile, as the two maids spoke, Atem wasn't paying them any attention, instead being wholly engrossed in his farm.

Once he was satisfied with the seed furrows he had dug, he turned to the pond, walking over to the place his channel stopped - a spot specifically chosen because the stone edging the pond in this place could easily be moved.

He pulled the rock away, allowing water to flow through and flood through the channels he had dug.

"Prince Atem, what's that?"

Atem looked up to see Isis staring at him in confusion.

"Oh!" He stood up, stepping back to allow her to see his handiwork. "Lady Isis, this is the crop field I'm working on. What do you think?"

"I think I am unsure why you decided to dig up a good portion of the palace's garden in order to plant a farm for yourself."

"Oh! Um…" Atem rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "I just read some things about how farmers grow seeds and I wanted to try it myself."

"How long did this take?"

"I started it a couple days ago, when Naunet said I could finally get out of bed."

"That sounds like you put a lot of work into it," Isis said. "So what are you growing?"

"I… haven't decided yet. I want to go to the marketplace and buy seeds, but I'm not sure if Father will let me. I'd need someone to come along."

"Might I come?"

"Huh?"

"Might I come with you? I can always bring one of my own guards, if it's protection you're worried about."

Atem picked up the hoe and planted it in the ground, in the way he'd seen people in the fields do in pictures. "I…" he said between huffs of effort. "Would really like that, thank you."

Immediately, the hoe toppled over, causing Atem to scramble to catch it with a yelp.

Isis giggled, her hand over her mouth. "Do you want to leave now, or should we wait?"

"Now, I think. I'm worried that if we go later in the day, all the good seeds will be sold out."

"Now it is, then. Shada, I have to ask you something!"

As Isis walked away, Atem was leaning on the hoe's handle, watching her go and thinking through the conversation.

Nothing like this happened in the game, right?

Isis was said to be so miserable working for Atem that she never smiled until Maahad coaxes a smile out of her in his route, and on the day of Bakura and Mana's wedding in Bakura's route.

Yet four days ago, when she swore herself to him, she smiled.

She always smiled, every time they met.

Now she was laughing.

What's going on?

That thought stuck in his head as Atem put away the hoe he had borrowed and collected from his room a bag of gold pieces.

Atem was still pondering this question - although he had tucked it into the back of his head - when Shada, who turned out to be a young guard of about twenty, appeared.

"We need to make this quick, Lady Isis, your Majesty. That armed intruder still hasn't been found."

"We shall. We just need to buy seeds."

"Seeds? Why?"

"I'm attempting to work a field of my own after reading about how farmers do it. I have water, and a field - all I need are seeds."

Shada raised an eyebrow. "I must ask what a prince needs a farm for."

"Oh, you know, I just wanted to see if I could do it."

Shada glanced suspiciously at Atem before he replied, "It's hardly my business what your hobbies are, your Majesty. Just… be careful. Some other people might not be so open-minded."

"Right." Atem didn't really care that he would be judged for acting outside his station - if he did not do it, he was likely to lose that station on the very day he came of age, if not his life. Survival in those circumstances trumped reputation. However, he knew Shada cared, and would assume he did, too.

"Open the gates," Shada commanded the guards, who knew better than to argue.

Atem slowly took his first steps out into the Great City, the next move to avoiding his doom.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

The old merchant had seen a lot of things in his day, and naturally expected the unexpected.

However, the Crown Prince himself practically bouncing up to his stall, flanked by an eight-year-old girl in priestess garb and an armored bodyguard, and asking, "Sir, what's your advice on seeds?" was nowhere on his list of possibilities.

"Pardon?"

The little boy, no older than five turns of the harvest, gripped the lip of his stall's tabletop in an attempt to peek over it and look at the old merchant. Much of the time, though, only his head of spiky hair, red and gold like the flames of the sun, and kohl-lined violet eyes, flashy as amethysts, were visible, even when the young prince stood on tiptoe. "I'm trying to plant my own crop garden - just to see if I could manage it. What do you recommend for people just starting out?"

Atem carefully gauged the old man's reaction: surprised, but pleased.

"Well, I do have a good store of bean seeds. They're relatively simple to grow."

Atem nodded. "How much?"

"How many seeds will you be wanting?" the old merchant asked.

"Well, my field isn't very big…" Atem trailed off. "How does half a measure of seeds sound?"

The old merchant looked surprised for some reason, before he smiled and nodded. "Ten gold pieces."

Atem reached into his money sack and deposited the money on the tabletop, watching as the old man counted it up.

"...Eight, nine, ten. Right, here's the sack of seed."

The sack was almost too heavy for Atem's small arms to lift, so Shada carefully took it from him and carried it himself.

"Thank you, sir!" Atem called over his shoulder as they left.

"Hold on, your Majesty," the old merchant called.

"Yes?" Atem asked politely, some inward part of himself recoiling at the idea of being given an order before being quickly buried.

"You're going to need a place to hold the excess seed, keep it from rats and bad air," the old merchant said.

Atem nodded, thinking to himself there had to be such a place in the palace somewhere - and if there wasn't, it was as simple as building it himself. "Thanks for the advice, sir! Goodbye!"

Atem was so wrapped up in planning he didn't notice as other vendors and buyers simply stopped to watch, wondering amongst themselves what on earth the Crown Prince wanted with half a measure of seed beans.

Atem did notice, however, a figure in all the commotion. A thin, starving-looking boy, not much older than himself, was quietly watching them pass by.

What caught Atem's eye in particular were the boy's dirty silver hair and the fresh scar over one eye.

Bakura. The thief who serves as a rival in Maahad's route and a suitor in Mana's. Atem makes a deal with him to kidnap Isis to ensure he has Maahad all to himself, and in either ending the truth of this alliance comes out and Atem is killed - strangled by Lady Isis in the good ending and executed on Maahad's testimony in the bad ending. In Mana's route, he is a kindly rogue who only steals to survive, and in the good ending, after he marries Mana and turns over a new leaf, he is favored over Atem to become Pharaoh.

What was he doing here, in the Great City?

Atem didn't know much about Bakura - the game didn't give him much of a backstory. He assumed that Bakura hid out in the area of the Great City in his adult years, otherwise he wouldn't be able to be as involved in the story as he was, but he never considered the idea that Bakura might have come to live in the City as a child.

But what do I do about it? My doom in Bakura's route revolves around his being more favored than I am, and I can hardly control that. In Isis's route, he becomes involved with the story because I make a deal with him to get rid of Isis.

There. That was something he could control. Not making secret deals with Bakura. Without his influence, Bakura wouldn't become involved at all.

But that's assuming that the game follows Isis's route! What if real life more closely follows Bakura's route instead? Or… Bakura isn't as focused on in other routes; is there a doom flag involving him I could trip if life follows, say, Seth's route? Or Kisara's?

"Lord Atem!" Isis called, waving her hand in front of his face. Atem blinked, startled.

"You were staring into space for a little while, Shada and I got worried," Isis explained.

"Oh, sorry," Atem said offhandedly. "I was just… thinking."

"About how your crops are going to turn out?" Shada guessed.

"Yes," Atem said quickly, not wanting to admit what he'd actually been thinking about.

It was as soon as they had come back through the gates that Father met them.

"Atem! Thank the gods! Where on earth have you been?"

"I was out in the marketplace looking for seeds for my new farm." Atem said. He gestured to the bean seeds Shada was carrying. "Look! Seed beans!"

"I'm glad that you've recovered since the attack, and that you're enjoying yourself, but… surely you could have informed Siamun before you left - or Aknadin or myself."

"He wasn't alone, Lord Pharaoh," Isis said. "Shada and I accompanied him."

"One guard is hardly enough to keep the prince safe," Aknadin, coming up behind Father, grumbled.

Atem sweated nervously, putting his hand behind his head in embarrassment. "I thought if I left later the vendors would be all sold out of the good seed."

"Your safety matters more," Father said, pulling Atem close. "You may have your garden. But please, don't sneak out to the markets again."

"...Yes, Father. I'm sorry."

"Lord Pharaoh! Karim wants to meet with you in the throne room immediately!" a guard said, huffing for breath as he ran up. "Someone's spotted the armed intruder!"

Father nodded sternly. "Tell Karim I'm coming. And tell him to inform the other guards. It may just be someone seeing things, but it could also be that wretch coming to try again."

"Yes, your Majesty!"

Father turned back to Atem. "I'm sorry, my son. I have to go."

Atem looked at the ground. "I know, Father," he said softly.

Father's eyes widened, before his gaze softened. He gave Atem's shoulder a quick squeeze before he hurried off toward the throne room.

I've worried Father again, Atem thought guiltily as he began planting. He, using his fingers, pressed a hole into the earthen furrows he had dug earlier, then tucked a bean inside, before putting a small crumbling of earth over top of the hole. At first, each hole was ragged and too cramped for the seed to take root. As he fell into a rhythm, however, he found a way to create holes that perfectly fit each bean without smothering them.

A plant must have soil covering it to provide a place for the roots and keep the birds off, but mashing down the dirt too tightly makes it so the roots can't properly spread out. There must also be water, but that's what the channels I dug are for.

Talking himself through the process helped take his mind off Father.

When I become a villain, I end up worrying Father to death. When I try not to be a villain, I still end up worrying him.

Is there really no changing the future?

And why was Isis acting so out of character earlier? Could he have been mistaken?

No, I remember Yugi playing Isis's route just before he died. Isis was so miserable under my leadership she lost all ability to emote for herself - until Maahad brought it back.

So why was Isis looking for ways to spend time with him, expressing happiness and even laughing?

That night, Atem sat down with his planning scroll and wrote down what happened that day.

'Isis met me in the garden. She seemed happy, even laughed when I dropped the garden hoe. She's been smiling a lot. She swore herself to me just like in the game; I wasn't able to avert that. So why isn't she miserable like the game's backstory says?'

'I also saw Bakura in the marketplace. Did he live in the Great City as a child? Oh, if only the game hadn't been so cryptic about his past!'

What should Atem do in order to keep Bakura's doom flags from triggering? Something that would work better than his attempts to dissuade Isis from swearing herself to him.

What if Bakura wasn't a thief?

The idea was so bizarre that Atem momentarily stopped writing to think about it.

Bakura's backstory is built on the backbone of his being a thief. If he isn't a thief, who knows what parts of the story could be altered! If he has no reason to be executed, that will save me from Mana poisoning me in retribution for getting him executed. If he has no thieves' hideout to disappear to with Isis, that will save me from being strangled by Isis or from being executed for getting Isis captured. The only problem is if he grows up to have the same obsession with Isis he does in Isis's route; I may have to keep Isis safe from him myself…

Honestly… Atem had no idea what would happen if the petty thief Bakura… wasn't a thief. It was so intrinsic to his backstory that almost everything about his character was linked to it.

Could he risk something that he had no way of predicting the consequences for?

Atem froze as he heard something above his head.

A soft thud.

As if someone had just jumped onto the tile roof.

Atem hurriedly put away his scrolls in his puzzle box, before carefully hiding under his bed. From his vantage point, he could see a small figure drop down onto his balcony and duck through the curtain.

It was Bakura.

The silver-haired six-year-old looked around Atem's room in obvious annoyance.

"Too big," he whispered. He then shook his head. "Doesn't matter. If I get just one good piece from this, it'll give me enough food for months!"

That lined up with what Atem remembered of Bakura's personality in-game. He mainly stole as a means of putting food on the table for himself (and his gang in Isis's route), although there was an element of thrill for him.

"Huh?" Bakura asked softly, his gasp of surprise making Atem freeze. "If this is the prince's room… then where's the prince?"

Atem slowly edged his way out.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully, pushing up the bed sheet that had served as a curtain between himself and the young thief and crawling out from under the bed.

Bakura jumped back in alarm, before holding up his fists in self-defense. "You - you… what were you hiding under the bed for? Who are you?"

"My name's Atem. You're Bakura, right?"

Bakura's face paled slightly. "You're the prince?"

Atem nodded. "Don't worry; I'm not going to hurt you."

"Keh! As if I would be scared of some spoiled kid!" Bakura growled in reply.

"You're not that much older than me."

"Yeah? So?"

"You can hardly call me a kid if you're not much older than I am," Atem replied, for a minute debating what exactly he was doing. He didn't know what he wanted to talk to Bakura for - or how it related to averting doom - and his lack of a plan was starting to worry him.

What if I trip a flag by accident, one I didn't even know existed?

"Hmph! Don't get smart with me, or else I'll knock you out! Look - I'm just taking some money and then I'm gone! Leave me be!"

"You could just ask."

"Huh?" Bakura asked.

"I'm not going to be able to use all this," Atem pointed out. "I could give you some of it if you really need it."

Bakura's eyes narrowed. "You must be either extremely brave or lethally stupid," he growled as threateningly as a six-year-old could muster. "To think that I would accept a handout from anyone associated with the Pharaoh. His son, no less?!"

"I'm only trying to help," Atem began, only for the door to burst open.

Karim stood on the other side, sword drawn. He immediately spotted Bakura, and his eyes widened.

"Intruder!" Instantly, he was between Atem and an increasingly angry and nervous Bakura. The six-year-old who would become the king of bandits, moving into an attack stance, looked like an agitated, bristling kitten face to face with a fully grown lion.

"My prince, get behind me!" Karim shouted. "Guards, grab the intruder!"

"Wait, Karim-!" Atem began, only to be immediately hushed by the captain of the guard.

Bakura did fight his hardest, but he was one six-year-old child against half a dozen rigorously trained grown men. Almost immediately, the guards had Bakura pinned down on the ground, writhing and shouting things more at home coming from the lips of a sailor than a small boy, with half a dozen spears pointed at his face, while they themselves barely nursed a bruise each.

"Boy, who are you and what are you doing here?" Karim demanded to know.

Bakura spat hard on Karim's face as an answer.

"Lord Atem," one of the guards asked. "This boy, what was he doing in your room?"

"He wanted some money," Atem said slowly. "He didn't hurt me, honestly."

Karim turned to Bakura. "A thief? Well, unfortunately for you, the Sacred Court isn't feeling generous toward intruders right now." To the guards, he said, "Go find the Pharaoh and tell him Lord Atem is alright. And tell him we've caught our intruder."