The unrest at the Palace increased significantly after the attack on Shaadah and Aishizu. High Priest Set had done everything in his power to keep the theft of the two Items unknown to the public. What would happen if people knew that the Priests had been robbed of their Items? The Items were connected to the Priests, a fundamental part of their being, of what they stood for. A symbol of power, of wisdom, of strength... stolen. The King of Thieves ran around the Palace freely, nobody saw him coming or going. It angered Set, and it troubled him. How often and how much more could he increase the guards, before every inch of the entire Palace was covered? How could he fill up all the cracks and gaps, how could he make sure that nothing, but absolutely nothing escaped his gaze? How could he prevent Bakura from entering the Palace? All of the guards had been selected by the High Priest himself, and their loyalty and dedication were beyond any doubt. The servants, especially those close to Atemu, were also selected by Set and he didn't question their loyalty for a moment either. It was heart wrenching to see the Royal Palace, which was supposed to be a haven of safety and security, overrun with tension, growing fear and paranoia, all because of Bakura. Set was frustrated by his own investigation, which had ground completely to a halt. It annoyed him, as everything he worked on, he always finished to everyone's expectancies. He wasn't used to getting stuck at all, it was unimaginable to the High Priest. But it was the painful truth that after all his interrogations and questions, he had only found out that a young girl named Kisara and a farmer had met the nameless assassin, who had tried to take the Pharaoh's life by shooting a dart at him. The farmer had given the man a ride to the Palace, and Kisara had talked to him, be it nothing but small talk.
The girl stood out with her strange, pale complexion and long, white hair. Set feared that people would give Kisara a hard time as soon as they found out she was connected to the assassin; a flimsy connection, but she had spoken to the man, which left her open for wrongful interpretation. She had sought audience with the Pharaoh to ask for shelter and protection; she had been cruelly driven out of her hometown because of her uncanny appearance. Set could barely believe this cruelty, but he realized soon that Kisara wouldn't stand much of a chance outside the Palace. To make matters even more complicated, she... evoked emotions in him. She made him feel something that was confusing and strange to him. His loyalty was to the Pharaoh first and foremost, but his thoughts kept returning to Kisara. It was scary. He couldn't have her cloud his judgment, mix up his feelings, interfere with his life... but she was already meaning more to him than his work. If she was this distracting... he needed to stay focused, to keep his head clear. The Pharaoh was more important and Set couldn't risk Atemu ending up dead. The nation would be devastated and war would break out... something Khemet wasn't prepared for, not right now. He had to deal with Bakura, the Syrian delegates and many more problems at hand, and the only person he could think of, was Kisara. The stolen Items, Shaadah, Aishizu... Set never thought he'd wish for Akunadin to be here, in his study; the elder man had always offered good advice and insight before. Where could he be? He'd been absent-minded and distant, even more so, as of late. What was going on? Set paced back and forth behind his desk. One thing was for sure: the Palace wasn't going under on his watch. He'd rather die than have anything bad happen to the world as he knew it.
Dinner was served: poultry, grilled fish, beans and a stew of vegetables. It wasn't often that Atemu chose to have dinner in his own quarters. He usually shared his evening meal with his Priests, but tonight he had a special guest and he wanted to spend some time alone with her.
Mana didn't belong to the Court as she was a mere Apprentice, but she had been Atemu's friend since they were toddlers. She tasted some of the fish, clearly enjoying the food. Excited about the invitation, she had chosen to wear a formal dress, one like Aishizu's, that reached her ankles, instead of her usual short shenti. She had wanted to wear some jewelry, but she had decided against it at the last moment. Usually she wasn't nervous about having dinner with the Prince... Pharaoh. But just like everyone else in the Palace, she had felt that something fundamentally had changed. Safety, security and peace had been severely disturbed by Bakura, as the attacks had been cruel. Despite the increase of the guards, no one really felt at ease.
The food was so delicious that it distracted her from the current situation. She didn't want to cloud this nice dinner with bad thoughts, and she enjoyed Atemu's company. They shared a few figs for dessert before she announced she was completely full and couldn't eat one more bite. Atemu suggested leaving the dinner table and retreating to the living quarters. Mana all but ran ahead of him and jumped on the sofa with the wooden backrest, her favorite spot as it was covered with soft, plush cushions. She curled her legs under her body and patted on the empty space next to her. Atemu walked with much more composure and before sitting down, he took off his heavy purple cloak and folded it. He put it on a small stool close to the dresser. He smiled at Mana and sat down next to her.
"Finally some time alone," he said as she curled up against him.
"You're always so busy, Atemu."
"So are you, Mana," he said, glad that she felt comfortable enough to address him with his first name. He liked the way she pronounced it, the way it tumbled from her lips. Mana softly smiled. She liked being so close to him, to enjoy his warmth and his proximity. He made her feel safe and protected, even though she was supposed to be the one to protect him. She had heka at her disposal, and if she studied hard and became as strong as Mahaado, she'd be able to defeat everyone who had even the tiniest urge to hurt him. She looked up, at the colorful shawl around his neck, reminding her once more about the danger he'd been in.
"Does it still hurt? How are you feeling?"
"I am fine," he answered. "I do not think I need to wear this for much longer. The bruises are pretty much gone. Mahaado's healing lotion worked amazingly."
"Yes, he has such great knowledge about healing," she said, immediately followed by a sigh. Thinking about her Master always made her feel desperate, because every day she realized how powerful he was, making her feel ashamed of her own little talent. Her spells were mostly defensive, but nothing as impressive as Mahaado's, who could call forth a powerful kaa and make it do his bidding. She had to work really, really hard to be able to achieve the same feat, and as of late, she started to doubt her potential more and more. She couldn't even protect her best friend from being attacked; how could she ever become as powerful as her Master?
"Mana?" Atemu put his hand over hers. "You are... ah..." He didn't want to say 'hurting me', it dawned to Mana, as she saw to her horror that her hand was painfully squeezing his upper arm, her nails digging into his skin.
"Oh! Oh Prince, I'm so sorry!" She turned away from him, embarrassed. She searched her mind frantically for a healing spell, a simple spell to take away the pain, but she came up with nothing.
"Mana," his voice was soothing, not angry at all. "Mana, I understand that you are upset."
"I..." She forced the tears back. She didn't want to cry in front of him!
"What weighs so heavy on your mind?"
"I was unable to keep you safe," she whispered. "I know all of these spells, and still I couldn't save you. Or Shaadah, or Aishizu..."
"It is all right," Atemu said. "Do not blame yourself for this, Mana. No one could ever know that this was going to happen. We have to trust the guards and our Gods."
"We can't," Mana protested. "Bakura... he gets inside the Palace unnoticed, and not even Aishizu foresaw this!"
"That is true. We have to focus on.."
"I don't want to lose you!" She interrupted him brusquely, her eyes wide. "I could never go on living, knowing that you died because I failed you!"
"Shh, shh, Mana, please..!" Atemu touched her shoulder and she shivered. "Do not forget how strong and cunning the King of Thieves is. This is not your fault. He is a foe, and a powerful one at that. You would get yourself in danger, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."
She clutched her dress, her fingers almost ripping the delicate fabric. "I couldn't protect you."
"Of course you can..."
"I should be around you all day and all night!" Mana didn't intend it as a joke. She looked at him with dark, determined eyes. "I don't want to lose you," she repeated.
"You never will," he replied. How she wished she shared the same confidence! Wanting to touch him, Mana lifted her hand and gently pressed her fingers to his cheek. She couldn't stand the thought of losing him. Now she was determined to become one of Khemet's finest magicians, strong enough to protect everyone she loved and cared for. Everyone around her had grown up, to become a Priest, a Pharaoh... and here she was, ready to cry at the drop of a hat, sniveling and whining about what she could have done or couldn't have done... she would have no more of that!
"Mana," Atemu said. "You scare me when you give me that look."
She couldn't help it, she giggled. Immediately, she pressed her fingers to her lips, composing herself. "I'm sorry," she said. Her other hand was still on Atemu's cheek, and her heart skipped a beat when he put his own hand over her fingers, covering them. He gently moved her hand away, bringing it up to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss to her skin.
"It is a difficult time for all of us," he said. "But we are not of much help to our friends if we doubt ourselves, Mana."
"I know, I'm sorry." She hated how whiny and apologetic she sounded. "I just wish I was as wise and mature as you."
"You are not me, and I am not you," Atemu said, smiling at her. "I do not have much heka, I do not master any healing spells, or defensive spells... but as long as we protect each other, we will both be safe."
Mana returned the smile. "Yes! I'll study hard and become just like Master!"
Karim closed the door behind him and exchanged a comforting look with the guards. He had just visited his fellow Priest, Shaadah, who was recovering from the poisoning as well as the recent attack. Poor man! Karim shook his head. After all Shaadah had been through, his Item had also been stolen. Set had done some excellent damage control, Karim thought wryly as he started walking, heading for the High Priest's quarters. He could only imagine what would happen if people knew. The Court had to be strong and united, to give the people faith and hope. Weakened Priests, Priests without their Items were devastating to the public mind... subconsciously, Karim tightened his grip around his Item: the Scales. The last thing he needed, was to become paranoid. He had always taken great care of his Item, but now he didn't leave it out of his sight, not even for a second. This... this fear, this madness, this suspense... all because of one man! His thoughts returned to his visit to Shaadah. The man had told him everything about the attack, worrying about Aishizu's well-being of course, but he had also told him about the glimpse he had caught of Bakura's soul.. or rather... his kaa. Diabound. Karim increased his pace. He had to tell Set about this. Mahaado was with Aishizu, tending to her needs; she was deadly afraid and terribly upset about what had happened. He walked even faster. Shaadah had described the darkness and menace surrounding Diabond rather aptly, sending shivers down the Priest's spine. He was quite strong, physically; but how could he fight against something so... evasive? So quick and cunning? There had to be a solution, Karim thought to himself. Despite everything, Bakura was still a human being. That meant he had to have weaknesses, flaws... he wasn't invincible. He hid behind that awful kaa of his, but not even a kaa was invincible. It was just a matter of finding the right weakness... Karim slowly came to a halt. He should've reached Set's quarters by now. And where were the guards? He tightened his grip around his Item once more, his knuckles turning white. The hallway had turned dark, an ominous dark. He took a deep breath.
"Show yourself, King of Thieves!"
"You're not afraid, I like that." Bakura was quick to answer, but he didn't follow up on Karim's demand. "It makes for much more interesting... action. I hate cowering, sniveling, pathetic people. Like that other Priest, the bald one."
"Do not speak ill of my brethren," Karim snarled.
"Oooh, how he was crying when I took his beloved Item. And how he yelled for that woman to 'run, run'!" Bakura's voice took a mocking tone, angering Karim.
"Monster! Why don't you show yourself, instead of hiding in the shadows!"
"Fair enough." Bakura stepped forward, the shadows slowly revealing him. Karim couldn't help the wave of fear running through his body. He suppressed it forcefully. This man had attacked his beloved Pharaoh. This man had stolen Items... and a lot more, judging from all the jewelry on his body. The King of Thieves was covered with gold: necklaces, rings and bracelets, as far as the large sleeves of his red coat allowed Karim to see. His bone-white hair was a stark contrast with the shadows, who lingered behind him as if awaiting a command. "So far, you're the first one to call me out. I can admire that, Priest. But let me warn you..." his eyes went to the Item in Karim's hand, "... you will lose too. Everyone loses to the darkness."
"What is it that you want? Why are you stealing the Items?" Karin forced himself to remain calm, but he couldn't help his voice from reaching a higher pitch. Bakura simply shrugged.
"What can I say? I like gold. I like pretty things. And I love creating unrest and discomfort."
"You'll ultimately fail," Karim retorted. "You'll be stopped."
"I don't think so." Bakura showed a crooked smile, crinkling the scar on his cheek. "You all have no idea what or who you're dealing with. You think you're getting closer, but the truth is that you couldn't be further away from it all. You try to defend yourselves, but the rot within has already started. How do you plan to strengthen your walls, when your foundations are weak? One by one, you're going to fall, Priest. And then, I will claim my ultimate prize."
Karim's blood turned cold. Atemu. The Puzzle. "You will never lay one finger on the Pharaoh again," he hissed.
His words didn't impress the thief. More so, Bakura seemed to be amused by his anger.
"So sorry to disturb your daily routine," he said and outstretched his hand. "Do you want to hand over the Item right now, or do you want to fight?"
"Here, take it!" With all his might, Karim threw the Scales at Bakura. Shocked and surprised, Bakura clasped his hands around the Item that hit him in the stomach. Before he could recover, Karim lunged at him and punched his jaw. A few drops of blood spattered on his robes; from Bakura or himself, Karim didn't care. He didn't allow the thief time to gather his bearings. He landed punch after punch, releasing all his anger. Bakura fell to the floor, even dropping the Item to lift up his hands in a meager defense. Karim batted his hands away, delivering blow after blow. Bakura didn't cry out in pain, he merely grunted and groaned, taking the merciless beating. It took a few moments for Karim to realize the other was laughing. It angered the Priest even more; what kind of man would laugh at a moment like this? Karim moved up his arm, his fist balled, his body bracing for the impact of the blow he was about to deliver. He channeled all his anger, all his fear about what Bakura had done; to the Priests, to the Pharaoh, to Atemu, the one he loved... and he let out a forceful battle cry. But he didn't get the opportunity to strike. He couldn't move his arm down, let alone hit Bakura with all his strength. Something coiled around his neck, something sleek and cold, paralyzing his movement. With a sharp tug, Karim was pulled away from Bakura, his heels dragging over the floor.
"What took you so long?" Eerily calm, Bakura got up from the floor, his face bloody and battered. He wiped the blood away with his large sleeve and spat out the rest, soiling the floor. Rubbing over his chest, he grimaced. "Well, I'll give it to you, Priest; you pack quite the punch."
Karim gurgled as the snake-like shape around his neck increased the pressure, cutting off his air. He kicked with his feet, his hands clawing to free himself. Bakura took a few steps to the side and picked up the Scales from the floor. He studied the Item, smiling as he looked at it.
"I underestimated you, Priest. Your ferocity... is not just because you don't want to give up your Item, is it? It's something else. Something desperate, I'd almost say. Well, I can stew on that while I retreat for now. Thank you, by the way." Bakura rattled the Item in front of Karim's face. "It'll make a nice addiction to my collection. Let's go, Diabound."
The pressure was lifted and coughing, Karim fell to the floor. Weakened, he was about to lose consciousness when he heard another voice. "Why didn't you kill him?" Bakura's voice drifted through the shadows. "You never let me have any fun." The other voice responded again. "I won't take any risks, King of Thieves. The time is upon us..." Whatever Bakura's response was, Karim didn't hear it anymore. The world around him turned as black as the shadows he had just faced.
Chapter 9 | Chapter 11 |