Episode Four Part Two: Double Trouble

"Let the darkness unfold, or find fortune untold, well, your destiny lies in your hands!"

Mana wasn't sure what to expect when she was brought before the Crown Prince and his regency. To be honest, it was kind of scary.

I heard the Crown Prince was nice, but…

She'd also heard that he was… eccentric, too. That he'd bumped his head as a little boy and had never been quite right in the head since.

And the guy who'd sent the summons, Aknadin - the Pharaoh's uncle and bearer of the Eye of True Sight? He was scary, too. His normal eye and his magic one were equally piercing, as if he were dissecting her soul every time he looked at her, the same way the older boys in the village cut open frogs to see what was inside them, taking the parts he needed and leaving an empty, incomplete husk behind.

Maahad always said she had too wild of an imagination.

Mana snuck her hand into Maahad's, not wanting to admit she was scared but still wanting the comfort of his touch. Her twin squeezed her hand in response.

She guessed he was secretly scared too.

As they were herded through the front doors of the palace, Mana swallowed, trying to hide her nerves.

They were led down a torchlit hall to the throne room door, where Mana heard the messenger sent ahead of them announcing their presence. Then the door opened, and Maahad nudged her, urging her to keep walking as they walked out into the center of the throne room.

It was beautiful, draped with purple-dyed cloth and trimmed in gold. At the head of the hall, on an elevated dais, sat seven people on seven thrones. Six of the thrones were smaller and simpler, seating an aloof-looking older woman, a grave bearded man holding a set of golden scales, a young man in his twentieth year holding a scepter, another old man bearing a large gold hoop hung with charms, tied with a rope around his neck, a short old man with friendly eyes wearing a key around his neck, and the same frightening man who had summoned them, Aknadin the Eye-bearer.

The center throne was bigger and more beautifully decorated, and seated on it was a young boy her own age. He was dressed in a blue-dyed tunic, an ornate collar of gold and turquoise, fine gold jewelry, and a deep indigo cape edged in gold thread. He wore no crown, but his hair, wild and red as dancing flames, streaked with gold, seemed to be a crown by itself. His eyes, a flashy royal purple like river lotuses, were warm and friendly, but somehow anxious. Burdened.

Looking at them, Mana got the impression they held a terrible secret.

Mana felt her face burn as the boy looked at Maahad, then at her. He was definitely handsome. His unusual features, coupled with his slender, youthful build, made for a striking picture. Even the massive scars on his face - a knife slash bisecting his forehead and a ragged star-shaped gash reaching down to his ear and discoloring his eyelid - did little to detract from his appearance. In fact, it added to the mystery - how on earth would a boy raised in luxury no older than herself receive such massive, noticeable scars?

But then, something happened.

The boy stared at them in shock, real, noticeable panic flashing in his striking eyes.

But only for a second. Then the boy leaned forward, a composed and regal - but still friendly - look on his face. Far from the panic he had expressed for that fraction of a moment, he looked that odd balance of calm and aloof yet approachable.

The six priests were also scrutinizing them, but Mana couldn't help but note she didn't mind the boy's probing eyes nearly as much. He did look friendly and approachable, nice just like the rumors said.

But what about the other rumors…? About him being crazy…?

Maahad abruptly knelt, yanking Mana down to her knees along with her.

"Ow!" she began, only for Maahad to hurriedly shush her. Looking at her twin's face, Mana saw that Maahad did look very nervous.

"My Prince," Maahad said. "My name is Maahad, and this is my sister, Mana. We were both sent from the Illusionist branch of the shadowfolk. Your high priest sent for us, my lord, informing us we could train our magic here."

The boy blinked - was that awkwardness visible on his face? - before he quickly hid it and smiled. "Rise. It's exactly as Lord Aknadin told you. The palace is in need of new apprentices, in particular those with understanding of shadow magic and the Millennium Items, and you and your sister have magic strong enough we'd rather have you trained by the Sacred Court personally than have you struggling to control it alone."

Mana stood up, hoping she wasn't blushing as obviously as she thought based on how much her face burned.

"Thank you, My Prince," Maahad said.

The prince's smile widened. "You're welcome, Maahad. But, please, I'd rather you called me Atem."

Mana bit her lip to avoid giggling at Maahad's shocked face, which was drained of all color, but she was shocked herself. They had barely been introduced to the Crown Prince, the incarnation of Horus himself, and he immediately insisted on being on first-name basis with them? Without titles?

Is that why the rumors say he's crazy…?

The six priests looked surprised but resigned, as if expecting this to happen. The only one who looked genuinely upset was Lord Aknadin, who was beet-red with fury. The Eye-Bearer made a noise like an angry teakettle before he settled back into his throne, glaring daggers at the prince.

"Y-Yes, Lord-! I mean, Atem!" Maahad said nervously.

The boy looked amused, but saddened.

Does he… not like that people are so intimidated by him? The thought emerged so suddenly from Mana's brain that she was forced to stop and actually consider it. But then one of the priests - the guy with the hoop hung with charms - spoke, and Mana was forced to shunt that thought to the back of her head for later.

"Lady Mana, Lord Maahad, my name is Asim. I am the holder of the Ring of Desire and I will oversee your training in controlling your darkest impulses. Only then can you truly master a Millennium Item, should you be chosen to bear one someday."

The old man with the key spoke next. "I am the Grand Vizier in addition to the bearer of the Key of Divining. My name is Siamun Muran." Exchanging a knowing look between himself and the prince, he added, "You may call me Siamun if you like, everyone under this roof does."

Lord Aknadin made another angry teakettle noise.

"I," Lord Siamun said, "will be overseeing the rest of your magic training, in disciplines other than shadow."

"When shall we begin our training, Master Siamun?" Maahad asked.

"Tomorrow. We shall assist you in settling in at the palace before requiring you to begin your studies."

Mana, without thinking, blurted out, "Thank you! It was so long and tiring to get here!"

Maahad clapped a hand over her mouth, flushing with embarrassment.

"I apologize for my sister. She doesn't often sieve out her thoughts before they leave her tongue," Maahad replied.

The prince smiled warmly at her, in a way that made her heart quiver.

"Is that right? Well, I'm sure she'll settle in just fine, training alongside my friends." He gestured with his hand to a side balcony on the left of the throne room, where four people were observing the presentation with interest: a cold-looking brunet holding a sword with unusual blue eyes like deep water, a beautiful woman wearing a falcon hairpiece with gentle eyes, a white-haired, ghostly pale girl wearing a lapis circlet, whose bright blue eyes - more vivid than the first boy's - glittered with some mischievous light, and a smirking boy with silver hair wilder than hers and stormy gray eyes. All were dressed in the garb of nobility, though their outfits were much simpler than Mana had imagined for personal companions of the prince himself. "As will you, I imagine, given enough time, Maahad." His gaze flicked up to the white-haired girl and the pretty Falcon Girl, then back to Maahad. Mana followed his gaze and saw Maahad sneaking glances at Falcon Girl, blushing slightly. Mana fought the urge to squeal with delight: her big brother had a crush! Resolving to tease him about it later, Mana turned her attention back to the prince.

An older woman entered, inclining her head. She was dressed like a palace servant, but Mana, looking at her, thought she looked like a friendly old grandmother.

"Berenike!" the prince greeted her cheerfully, as if he wasn't leagues above her in social class. Aknadin was seething visibly at the prince treating a servant with such familiarity, but the prince didn't seem to notice or care. "This is Mana and this is Maahad. They are the new apprentices Aknadin sent for, from the shadow clan. Can you ensure they get settled into their rooms?"

"Yes, Lord Atem. Come with me, you two."

As they left the throne room, Maahad was the first to talk. "Is he always…?"

"That friendly to commoners? Oh, yes. Trust me, it was something I had to get used to. But you will, in time. One has to accept that traditional rules of decorum are the last thing on that boy's mind or else worry their hair gray, and the same attitude has passed onto the priests-in-training. But he's as just and good as his poor old father and mother were, may the gods rest their spirits. He'll make a fine Pharaoh when he comes of age."

Mana bit her lip. "Lord Aknadin doesn't seem to like him."

Berenike frowned. "Yes, well, Lord Aknadin does clash with the prince too often in my opinion. I'm not one to gossip, but some of the maids have said Lord Aknadin is envious of Lord Atem's position. He was next to inherit until Lord Atem was born, after all." She had lowered her voice to a whisper. "But if anyone asks, you didn't hear that from me. Alright?"

"He scares me," Mana mumbled. "Lord Aknadin, I mean, not the prince."

Berenike looked sympathetic. "I'd recommend staying out of his way for a bit. He's out of sorts today. Of course, not much is needed to make Lord Aknadin act out of sorts, just between you and me."

"We understand, Lady Berenike," Maahad said. "We'll be careful."

"These are your rooms," Berenike said, gesturing to a pair of ornate doors. "I assumed you would want to be close to each other while you settle in."

Mana nodded.

"Good. One of us maids will come by to fetch you for lunch in… two hours, I believe. We left you some breakfast in your rooms, though. The court thought you would be hungry from the journey."

Mana did eat some of the breakfast the palace servants had provided, but her stomach was too knotted up for her to eat much. Her mind kept straying back to the prince and the dreadful secret hidden in his flashy eyes.

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

Atem sat poised over his surviving doom scroll, trying to focus on what he was writing.

But, against his will, his mind kept straying to the twins.

Two main characters to worry about was definitely not a problem he had anticipated, especially since his resolution not to get attached to either of them - and thus not get jealous when a capture target inevitably won over him - was wearing down more and more by the second.

"Maahad and Mana being siblings might eliminate an entire route, though," he muttered. "Siblings marrying each other is far from uncommon in Kemet, but there's a possibility they won't end up caring for each other in that way. And that's not even getting into how them both being main characters will affect things!"

If he assumed Mana and Maahad were not romantically interested in each other, that left Bakura and Seth as capture targets for Mana, and Isis and Kisara as capture targets for Maahad. And, perhaps…

Having two main characters might mean both the capture target and the rival can find happiness! But who will they choose, and how can I help them?

Atem frowned. There was no route he knew of with two main characters. That meant he was in the dark about how this real timeline would end. For the main characters, for his friends, and for himself.

Atem didn't like not knowing what to expect, particularly since he had assumed knowing what was coming would be the factor that saved his life when the time for his judgment came.

Finally, he finished writing in his doom scroll with the very unsatisfying conclusion: 'I might just have to wait and see where this goes. No matter what happens, though, I mustn't become attached to either of them.'

'Their happiness, and my life, depends on it.'

One of the twins in particular was threatening to make that plan he had conjured up when he was five - don't fall in love - extremely difficult.

Mana. Both of the twins were admittedly attractive - they couldn't be identical twins and not be - but Mana captured his attention in a way he'd been able to avoid with all of the other capture targets. Her energy, something about her smile, how she blurted the first thing that came to her mind with no thought for how other people might think of her, it all fascinated him, and he had been glad when Berenike had come to fetch them before he did or said something he'd come to regret later to her.

But… she didn't seem repulsed… or afraid of me… not at all… She had stared at him, awkwardly, true enough, but smiling.

No.

He couldn't entertain such thoughts, not now. The twins' arrival meant the events of the game were beginning now, and if his plans fell apart, it would mean his doom when the game's events ended.

Mana and Maahad both expressed the same sentiment about him in the game. In different ways, definitely, but the sentiment was clear.

"Is that the prince?" Maahad had thought in the game, an expression of revulsion crossing the face of his character illustration. "He was acting very suspiciously around me. I should stay away from him."

Mana, true to her character to follow, was much more blunt: "Yech! That pervert is the prince of Kemet?! I don't feel safe here if I'm gonna run into him all the time!"

Mana had given away nothing similar to that sentiment in the throne room, but of course she wouldn't in front of him. He had to tell himself she thought that way about him in private. To even nurture the thought she would return his affections was dancing with Death.

He frowned, rolling up his doom scroll and pulling out a blank one from the bag he had taken to carrying with him, just in case the particular scroll he was working on became full.

Instead of writing a heading and a game plan as he always did, however, he began to draw.

Mana, in one of the beautiful traditional yukatas he knew of from Yugi's memories. With each stroke, he pressed his feelings into his reed pen, hoping to capture them in the image while putting them out of his mind.

A golden yukata printed with peony flowers, a gold-threaded ribbon tying back her brown hair, a paper fan held fully fanned out in front of her face, printed with the same pattern as her yukata, but behind the fan and the coy gesture, she was smiling.

But no matter what he did, the drawing didn't capture her likeness in the way he wanted. It felt like a shallow copy in comparison. So after spending an hour on it, he blew on the ink to dry it and rolled the scroll back up, not intending to use it.

It was such a waste of one of his surviving doom scrolls, but he couldn't bring himself to throw it away.

He felt out of sorts for the rest of the day, watching out of the corner of his eye as Mana and Maahad entered to introduce themselves to their fellow priests-in-training in full. Mana was looking at him as well, he swore, but when he looked at her directly, she was busily talking to Kisara, paying no attention to him.

She could not feel the same about him as he did about her.

But forcing himself to remember that didn't make that feeling go away.

Seth noticed Atem's sullen mood immediately. The prince honestly kept his heart in the palm of his hand, and given how energetic and happy he usually was a blind man could see when he was feeling out of sorts. Seth wasn't good at lifting people's spirits by any stretch, but he would rather try than have his prince, rival, and friend be too depressed to partake in their usual challenges later.

Nudging Atem, he whispered, "Atem, what's wrong?"

Atem blinked, as if jolting out of a daydream. "Oh! Ah… nothing, Seth. I'm just thinking."

"Listen, I've lived with you for upwards of ten years. I know when something's troubling you."

Atem looked at the ground. "I'm fine, Seth. Really."

"Fine, put on a tough front. I still want to know who told you you'd make a poor Pharaoh as you said earlier," Seth replied.

Atem bit his lip. "...It's too complicated to explain, Seth."

"No, it isn't. Give me names. Was it Master Aknadin? Don't listen to him, I'd hate to agree with Bakura on something, especially not about my teacher, but Master Aknadin loathes anything that doesn't jive with his perfect bubble of "noble class", and he lets his personal biases guide his judgment more than I like."

"It wasn't Lord Aknadin, Seth, and please, if he overhears you talking about him like that-"

"He'll let me get away with anything," Seth said ironically. "I'm his "favorite", remember?"

Atem's head shot up so quickly Seth worried he would break his neck. Then, he composed himself and shook his head.

"What did you say, Seth?"

"I said Aknadin wouldn't punish me for talking bad about him because I'm… his… favorite apprentice - Atem, why do you look like someone walked over your tomb?"

"I have to go!" the prince said abruptly in reply. "Mana, Maahad, it was good to meet you outside of a council meeting, but I have to look at something! In the library!"

With that, the prince hurried out, leaving all of them staring after him.

"Seth, what did you do?" Kisara accused.

"I don't know!" Seth retorted. "I was just asking him why he was in such a gloomy mood, and then I asked him again why he thinks he's a bad king. I told him that it didn't matter what Master Aknadin said, he said I should be careful where I say that in case Master Aknadin hears, and I just said Master Aknadin won't bother punishing me for backtalk since I'm his favored apprentice, and he went pale and nervous and - well, you saw," Seth explained.

"Wait, what do you mean?" Maahad asked. "When did Lord Atem say he was a bad king?"

"He didn't say that, exactly," Bakura cut in. "We were talking-"

"You made some thoughtless joke about Aknadin wanting Seth to be Pharaoh instead of Atem," Isis cut him off.

"Nuance, Isis," Bakura retorted. "Anyway, Atem said, just under his breath, and I quote, 'Seth would be much more fit for the position than me.'"

"The prince said that?" Mana asked in disbelief.

"Something's bothering Atem lately, and I'm willing to bet it's his coming-of-age. It's in seven months, after all."

"I understand him being nervous…" Mana said, biting her lip. "I would be…"

"Only, Atem is the most fit for kingship I've ever met," Seth said firmly. "So where is this sense of inadequacy coming from?"

"That bitter old snake you call a mentor?" Bakura quipped.

"Atem swore it wasn't Master Aknadin. He said the matter was complicated and he refused to talk about it further."

"We can't rule out Lord Aknadin, I think," Kisara said. "I can't ignore how he has done nothing but criticize Atem's leadership decisions since we were children."

"Isn't that blasphemous?" Maahad asked.

"You remember what-" Mana cleared her throat. "-we heard on our way to our rooms today?"

"Yes, but a rumor doesn't mean-"

"What are you talking about?"

"We heard a rumor that Lord Aknadin is jealous of Lord Atem," Mana said. "Since Lord Aknadin was going to be the heir until Atem was born."

"It was something we were told under the strictest confidence, and anyway, it can't be more than servant gossip," Maahad insisted.

"It makes sense to me," Bakura said quietly.

"What do you mean, Bakura?" Seth asked.

"You know I don't like Aknadin and he doesn't like me. So take this with a grain of salt if you want," Bakura said. "A few times when we were kids, Aknadin would drop cute little comments that sounded awfully like threats. Targeting Atem, to his face."

"What kind of things would he say, Bakura?"

"He was careful to do it when no one else was around but Atem and me," Bakura said. "He'd say stuff like, 'It won't end well for you if you forget your birthright' and 'Being so compassionate to the poor is dangerous' and 'You're being very brazen in defending the common folk, Nephew. Very interesting.'"

Seth couldn't help but snort at his brother-in-arms' imitation of his mentor's cold voice, but he composed himself.

"What has Atem thought of all this?" Isis asked.

"He always seems to brush it off, you know, insisting Aknadin's just giving him advice in his own way. But the first time I remember it happening…" Bakura said. "He did call attention to it. He asked me if it was just him or if what Aknadin said sounded like a threat. He sounded scared, too."

Seth frowned. "I'm torn, to be truthful. Master Aknadin is my teacher, and I have learned much from him. But my loyalty is to Atem first and foremost, and if Master Aknadin seems to be threatening him… or undermining his authority…" He scowled at the floor. "He's said such things to me, too. More jibes at Atem. That he's mad. That his mind was damaged irrecoverably from the incident ten years ago when he got his scars. What starts as eccentricity now might turn to a dangerous form of insanity later. As Bakura said, he's subtle about it, but the sentiment is there."

"We can't prove it, though," Mana frowned. "Should we just keep an eye on Lord Aknadin's interactions with Atem?"

"I think that's all we can do," Isis said. "Until we have more evidence than palace rumors and personal testimony. Particularly Bakura's, since it could be dismissed because, as you yourself said, Bakura, you and Aknadin aren't fond of each other."

"It looks like it's bothering him very much," Mana said. "Whatever has Atem scared he'll make a poor king, I mean."

"You've only known him for a day, Mana," Kisara said.

"That's my sister," Maahad said, putting his arm around Mana. "She has a sixth sense for people's true feelings."

"Should one of us go after Atem?" Bakura asked.

"Yes, and since you did such a good job of following him this morning, you're it," Isis said immediately.

Bakura nodded.

"Don't bug him about what he said, just… make sure he's alright, in secret. I know it's just the library, but… we can't ignore… well, what we've discussed," Isis told him.

"Gotcha," Bakura said. "See you four later."

Seth was still deep in thought as he said, "I should be going as well. Master Aknadin told me he wanted to instruct me in controlling my ka today, and it would be useful to know that… even if I'm suspicious of my instructor."

"Okay, Seth, be careful," Kisara said, squeezing his hand in a way that made Seth's face burn.

"I will."

As he left, Seth's mind was pinwheeling with what he'd heard.

Aknadin, jealous of Atem's birthright? Bakura's heard Aknadin outright threaten Atem? Seth's fury was growing by the minute. As much as he enjoyed competing with the young prince, the challenge was all for the thrill of it. Atem was his greatest opponent, but also one of his truest friends. Seth had no interest in competing with Atem over the throne and felt that right lay with his friend alone. Should Seth be named heir if Atem passed away, he would accept that. But the idea of stealing away something that important from Atem for the sake of their competition made him ill. It was treasonous, dishonorable, and something that was far from what the prince deserved. It was as Isis said, Atem was well suited to be a wise and noble king, even if his personal opinions and methods were unorthodox.

Atem had saved all their lives. Seth could not deny it.

Isis had been saved from permanent disgrace or even punishment under the law for her handmaiden's behavior, when Atem had pardoned Isis and broke off the engagement amicably, allowing her the choice to leave or stay.

Bakura had been on trial for imprisonment or even the wrath of the seven Millennium Items when Atem had stepped in to suggest the idea that Bakura's powerful magic be trained, leading to the former thief being adopted as a second prince in all but name.

He had been shunted around by the winds of fate into Aknadin's tutelage, before meeting the prince, pulled into the noble world when he felt more than anything he didn't belong there. Kisara had given his pride a well-needed puncture by beating him in that swordplay match all those years ago, but it had been Atem who had reached out to him, giving him the most thrilling, difficult battles he remembered that pushed him to his limits, battles which yielded the most satisfying victories. Even when he lost, now, he was able to take it, knowing even losing to the prince had pushed him to become - at least by a small amount - better. And when he won, it always felt earned.

And if it weren't for Atem, he never would have met Kisara…

Kisara had been a slave, a browbeaten child accused of being a witch by her own blood relations. Seth had met her after she had achieved her freedom, but he knew well how much those early years had affected her. He couldn't even imagine what would have become of her had Atem not been there with his unorthodox but lifesaving suggestion for her fate.

And it wasn't just them. Atem seemed to be kind and courteous to everyone. He greeted each servant by name. He was polite even when giving an order. Like his father, he loved peace, and offered second chances.

How on earth could anyone tell Atem that he wasn't ready to be king, or that someone else could do it better? Who would even dream of such a grave insult?

And if it wasn't due to someone directly telling him so, where had Atem gotten that idea? It was clearly more than just nerves over his impending coronation.

"It's like he's preparing for something. Something horrible," Kisara had said.

But what?