The Sky Dancer

Ryou’s fingers traced the locks of his hair, the digits confronting a missing length by his nape after the soldiers shaved it almost thoroughly. Everything he owned was burned among the silver chunks of dirty hair they severe from him, the uncomfortable scratching from the lice no longer tormenting him.

He took notice of the strict procedures to keep their cells and prisoners in adequate condition, perhaps wanting to avoid any disease or contaminants from reaching their precious monarch.

A space of straw and a simple robe was provided for him after he was imprisoned.

His daggers lay confiscated in an unknown vault, the exquisite weapon and the excellent craftsmanship enticing the attention of the soldiers after they disarmed him.

After several days of surviving the desert and the capital’s streets, his mind would drift forever within his confinement. The countless hours resembled the passage of weeks.

He could feel the heavy cuts on his face, bruises blackening his pale complexion and his eye swollen, impeding his sight. He also had trouble breathing, a massive contusion on his abdomen appearing immediately where the pharaoh himself punched him.

He discarded any possibility of the man’s fighting abilities, paying dearly for his ignorance as he experienced the devastating results of his brutish strength and the impossible speed of his reflexes. Most royals never bothered to learn to defend themselves, enjoying the comforts of escorts and relying on people to protect them.

He had underestimated the ruler when he held his blade with his bare hand, the memory of his serene expression the last thing he remembered before he blacked out from the massive pain.

The man was a monster, his eyes never displaying any fear or hesitation before the face of death.

The pale servant shook his head, once again the terrified feeling of uncertainty reaching his heart as he remembered his master’s voice calling his name.

After draining efforts to find his best friend, he finally reached what seemed to be Yugi’s apartment. His Nubian robes lay extended against a chair, traces of his presence among the room.

It was his brief relief that lowered his guard, a shaven slave surprising him as he entered the apartment while holding something in his arms. Both remained paralyzed before the child dropped what appeared to be a trade, pieces of food and the clashing noise spreading over the floor.

Any chances of escape were beyond possible as nearby guards entered the room to inspect the reason behind the strenuous noise, his mission to rescue his master aborted as they held him to the ground.

Details escaped his thoughts as he tried to recall the escalating events. Things couldn’t have come to worse conditions after the appearance of the pharaoh. He vaguely remembered watching Yugi’s stunning frame dressed in a breathtaking garment, the same appearance he always conjured when he performed. An inner rage filled him after concluding his master’s fate had probably ended on a same place of his previous life in Nubia. It wouldn’t surprise him that the pharaoh exploited his traits, the prince’s beauty a cursed handicap.

His friend’s arrival and the mention of Ryou’s name condemned both after the sovereign’s realization of their acquaintance, the albino’s flashing actions resolving to end the life of the pharaoh and failing at the attempt.

The failure alone was far more scrutinizing than the physical injuries. He never meant to put his master into a worse position, resolved to end his own life if it meant his absolution.

The servant placed his face between his arms, hugging his knees close and settling into a tensed contemplation.

A few minutes later the lock of the door opened at the distance, the teen raising his head and pressing his brow against the bars, trying to get a better view of the disturbance.

An incoming soldier approached the guard on duty asking for the prisoner’s transfer before the man turned to look into the wood shade gaze of the pale convict.

Ryou’s back muscles tightened as two guards advanced into his cell, shackles in their hands.

Judgment day had finally arrived, awaiting the conduction of his execution and the memory of his best friend conveying in his mind as the guards removed him from his cell.

________________________________________________________________________________

Kisara’s screams traveled among the walls of her bedroom, her body shaking while her eyes displayed true despair.

It didn’t take long for Jonoh to reach her, the former captain always within reach for any situation of emergency. His hand held a dagger as he erupted into the chamber, his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings for the presence of danger or intruder as he made his way into the agitated girl.

No trace of infiltration was evident, the soldier hurryingly taking the crying child into his arms as she sank into the protection of his chest. The man rubbed her back soothingly with his free hand, feeling the massive shaking of his mistress’ frame.

“D-don’t hurt her…” She implored between sobs, a blazing fever coming from her brow.

A pair of servant girls entered the room, their attention startled as they heard the commotion at such late hour of the night.

“Summon priest Seth, he must still be in his study.” Jonoh addressed one of them with a calm demeanor, the unusual distress of the heiress requiring his presence.

One of them gave a hurried nod before she disappeared, the other approaching but dismissed after the heiress refused to be touched. Jonoh settled her protests, asking the woman to fetch him some cold water and a cloth.

Within minutes the priest appeared by the bedroom’s entrance, his usual inexpressive eyes exhibiting solid concern.

“Kisara.” The man called for her child, the girl reacting to the smooth tone of his voice.

He sat by the edge of her bed, taking her daughter from Jonoh’s arms and letting her settle into the nape of his neck.

“It’s all right, I’m here.” The priest whispered into her ear, rocking her body into a steady rhythm. “It was nothing more than a dream, it can’t hurt you.”

“It wasn’t m-me.” She explained as the shaking fit settled slightly by her father’s presence.

“Who was it?” The man asked, confusion fix on his handsome features.

“Mom.” Kisara cried, her answer bringing a fresh wave of terror. “Mom was screaming and the white monster kept hurting h-her!”

True fear transited Seth’s column, the cold sensation twisting his stomach as his cerulean eyes turned to the captain’s direction. The blond man responded with an identical expression, understanding the remark of the beast that hunted his mistress’ dreams.

The tall priest could feel the fever in her body through the fabric of his tunic, his arms unconsciously holding his daughter closer to his frame.

During her eight harvests of life, Kisara was blessed with a healthy constitution and strong defenses unlike her mother who underwent a poor vigor. Her relatives noticed the absence of magical skills, never manifesting during the course of the years even with his gifted parents’ lineage running through her veins. Such clues settled Seth’s fears, enjoying the sentiment that she would grow to become an ordinary girl.

After tonight’s event, his doubts worsen into a disturbing presentiment.

“He wants to hurt me too…” The girl acknowledged, her grip on his father’s neck desperate.

“It won’t!” The captain intervened, catching the attention of both Seth and Kisara who barely raised her head in his direction. “I won’t let him hurt you. Didn’t I promise I would always protect you?”

Weakly she gave a subtle nod, tears running through her delicate face.

“Then trust me princess. That beast can’t harm you as long as I’m here for you.” He bowed before his rough fingers brushed a diamond tear from her face, her own hand grasping her relative.

“I’ll stay here with you.” Seth lastly recovered his voice, his slender fingers caressing the soft locks of her hair as he pressed her closer between his arms. “Try to go back to sleep.”

It was almost dawn by the time the princess managed to find rest after the nightmarish event, the priest’s exhausted complexion settling into Jonoh after the enduring night.

The old soldier witnessed a shadow of dread coursing through the priest’s hardy features, his resoluteness crumbling under the concern.

His own hand settled firmly on his wrist, drawing the attention of those royal eyes and trying to share the confidence of his own gaze.

Seth gave a soft nod before his face rested carefully against his daughter’s head, glimpses of the white beast haunting him after ripping the life of his wife.

He still remembered the same night he had been unable to save her as the weak grip of her hand against his fell into the mattress.

________________________________________________________________________________

Atemu settled his tensed back against the edge of the pool inside his ample bathing chamber, the hot water filled in bathing solutions that replenished his senses.

His resplendent gaze watched the careful movement of the water, his hand barely raised above the surface with the fresh scar of his injury displaying a soft pink color.

The monarch recalled the recent events of the day, his council and himself seated among the throne room as they awaited the arrival of the assassin.

Shimon stood absently by the side of the chamber, his features composed as they rested before the resigned prince. Guards settled on each of his sides, the little one looking into the floor like a lost child. He was dressed under the same Nubian garments that concealed the love marks the pharaoh inflicted on him, the prince avoiding his hypnotizing gaze as he awaited for his trial.

Silence reigned among the room with an extended pause before the doors of the chamber opened, revealing the same pale man shackled and escorted by a group of soldiers.

Atemu took notion of the worried expression filling the mesmerizing eyes of the prince as he saw the criminal thrown on his knees. A boiling rage coursed through his body, jealousy and possessive reactions shadowing his exotic gaze as he refused to acknowledge such sentiments.

Yugi witnessed his best friend tossed against the ground next to his own escort. His heart sank as he distinguished the countless bruises inflected on his delicate features, the white locks of his hair no longer caressing his face as his knees dropped to the floor.

The umber shade of his gaze sought his master, a desperate sadness blazing over them while conveying an apologetic expression.

“Prince of the fallen nation of Nubia, Heba Yugi.” The deep voice of priest Karim echoed on the walls, drawing the attention of both prisoners. “Step before your
ruler, Pharaoh Atemu of Khemet and the honorary members of the Holy Council.”

The teen hesitantly remained still before reluctantly taking a few steps into the group, feeling the eyes of his allied glued to the back of his head.

“Prince Heba, you been summoned before the high authorities of the nation due to a clear violation of Khemet’s law two nights previous.” Karim described with a firm tone. “As a war prisoner you infringed and overstep your boundaries, abusing the clemency granted by the greatest jurisdiction of the land and conspiring with a mercenary to severe the life of our Rul-”

“HE IS NOT INVOLVED WITH ME!” Ryou’s howl interrupted the high judge, everyone turning their heads in his direction. “I ACTED ON MY OWN, HE NEVER-“

A soldier took a hold of the servant’s head, the roots of his hair pulled backwards while the servant held his discomfort behind his clenched teeth. Yugi covered his mouth while shutting his eyes with force, unable to look at his friend suffer as they silenced his protests.

“Any statements done out of place will be held against you, remain silent until addressing you.” Isis warned, her placid features watching directly into the thief still captive under the soldier’s painful hold.

“Such crimes verdict a prompt death sentence.” Karim calmly returned his attention to the convicts. “However, we will hear a declaration of the prisoner himself previous to proceeding the trial of the millennium scales.”

“Have you anything to declare, your highness?” Aknadin asked with a calm expression, his golden eye attentive to the hostage’s next move.

The prince’s heart jumped like a caged bird, his hands pressed against his chest as if trying to keep it from running away from his body. His throat held a knot impeding the words to escape his lips, nothing coming to his mind that could assert their lives. His eyes turned toward Shimon, the priest relaying a soft nod of his grayish head trying to reassure him.

“No.” The prince answered with a slump of his shoulders.

Aknadin closed his eyes in exasperation, the wasted time eating away his scant patience. Isis and Karim also seemed disappointed at the brief declaration while the pharaoh watched with absolute absorption.

The prince turned his clear eyes into the royal’s for the first time since their last meeting, a turmoil of emotions communicating between their gazes.

The man held a firm expression as he challenged the little one to plead for his life, a part of him firmly desiring that the innocent profile of the Nubian was nothing more than an illusion.

Karim closed his eyes and took a brief inhale through his nose before his gaze turned to the item resting against the prepared pedestal. His mouth opened to order the soldiers to proceed before the clear voice of the monarch caught everyone’s attention.

“However, I do have something to declare.” The prince stated, his voice barely conveying the energy he sought to establish. His eyes traveled into the faces of every authority present, lastly resting into the pharaoh’s with a massive tension.

“I’m merely an illegitimate descendent of the last tyrant, unfairly given the massive responsibility to represent an entire nation.” He began, refusing to remain quiet into a final attempt to exempt his country of his actions. “I had no choice and yet regardless I’m willing to give everything I possess, body, dignity, and even my very life for the country that is now into your custody!”

No one spoke a word while Ryou watched with an expression of astonishment by his master’s unusual actions.

“I had no other intention than to collaborate with you masters for a peaceful treaty for both of our nations and such sentiments have not changed under any circumstances.” Yugi delivered, his courage growing with the proceeding of his declaration. “I was offered the opportunity to demonstrate my goodwill with the aid of my limited abilities and yet I only managed to worsen the situation, for that I owe your graces an apology.”

The authorities inside the room watched with startled expressions as the prince bowed voluntarily to the floor, his brow against the floor delivering a symbolic act of submission and diffidence. Ryou clenched his teeth with fury, a snarl held on his throat as tears slip through his injured cheeks.

“I humbly request that you spare Nubia of my insubordinations and I’m willing to pay for such offenses and answer for my servant’s actions to whatever punishment your graces see fit.”

The soldiers held the albino more firmly as he struggled in their custody, his head dropping between his shoulders as tears shed into the floor. Once again he blamed himself for his careless actions, condemning the only friend he had in this life for his stupidity. He bit on his own tongue to remain silent, not willing to jeopardize his master’s efforts to save the thousands of lives at the mercy of the Egyptian tyrant.

Atemu took a deep breath, his royal bearing impassive as the councilors turned their heads in his direction.

After a long pause the sovereign’s dignified gaze shifted to the loyal priest, a soft nod delivering his instructions to Karim who ordered the procedure of the millennium test.

The sound of the drifting pool caught the pharaoh’s attention back to the present, the man filling his lungs with a mouthful of warm air before closing his eyes as he exhaled.

In the quiet of the room his thoughts couldn’t stop their obsessive remembrance of the young prince.

The man found the case extraordinary after the millennium objects rendered the teen’s innocence for a second time, something unheard of. Even the albino servant was spared the horrors of the shadow’s grasps after divine judgment attested he had no darkness in his heart.

Atemu’s hand rested against the deep scar on the back of his left shoulder, the tip of his fingers feeling the mark that almost reached the the opposite side of his back. His arrogance and insubordination during his first months in the army branded his skin as a constant reminder of what he sacrificed.

His experiences made it a challenging endeavor to believe in a person’s kindness and disregard of their own welfare for the sake of others. Memories of the battles and his own deeds tried to breach the walls he constructed around his heart on a daily basis, even so far as to hunt his dreams and serenity.

A memory of a young soldier’s face surfaced into the mind of the royal, clouding his line of vision while recalling his own consciousness barely holding as the blood soaked the back of his armor. Tristan lay on the ground with a deadly injury on the side of his stomach, his mouth displaying a desperate plead while weakly trying to reach his fellow prince who clenched his teeth as pain ripped from his column.

The aristocrat shook his head violently as he fell into a state of agitation, breathing through his mouth to settle his pulse. His eyes opened in surprise before his fingers rested against his brow while recovering some composure, his muscles and teeth straining involuntarily.

His heart settled into a collected beat as he blocked the anxiety, the slow poison hunting his sanity with the endless scars and discomforts he had to live with after the war.

The sovereign suddenly remembered the aggravating remarks of his best friend on his drinking habits, looking into the wine display with hesitation for the first time as his hand unconsciously reached the cold metal of the golden cup.

A part of him acknowledged he had turned into the relieving effects of alcohol since his banishment, hardly taking notice of the habit until now.

“This is ridiculous.” The man thought out loud as he dropped his hold of the lavish goblet with displeasure.

As his irritation grew he called for the servant behind his door, the slave manifesting without delay and bowing deeply as he awaited orders.

“Bring me our Nubian guest at once.” He ordered unhurriedly, a part of him yearning for some relief as he recalled the beautiful charms of the young prince.

There were other more enticing forms than liquor to relieve his tension.

Some minutes later the servant bowed before announcing the beautiful presence of the little one, drawing the attention of the handsome monarch as they reappeared inside the bathing chamber. The teen had a look of fear in his eyes, his mind and heart rumbling inside his body as he guessed the reason behind the pharaoh’s summoning.

Hesitantly his eyes searched for the ruler, his face turning a rosy shade as he noticed the man currently bathing inside a vast pool of warm water with his arms extended along the edge and the back of his neck laying against a headrest. He couldn’t recognize him at first by the sight of his crown shape hair over his ample shoulders, the long locks barely reaching the edge of the water.

Atemu’s scarlet eyes opened as he listened the arrival of his guest, dismissing the servant while his gaze roamed over the frame of the prince, his need growing as he admired the ravishing sight of his bashful expression.

“I suppose congratulations are in order.” The man mentioned casually wanting to seek a conversation with the monarch. “Regardless of the events that transpired it was a wonderful performance.”

The prince offered nothing as he listened the pharaoh’s words echo among the bath. His sight turned to the side unconsciously trying to avoid the stunning image before him, irritated as he felt a nervous tension caused by the seductive man.

Atemu let a sigh escape through the bridge of his nose, a meager frustration frowning his features by the unresponsive attitude of the prince. There was a scant sensation of guilt as he saw the fear resting on the Nubian ward, his irritation growing by the trivial feelings disturbing his evening.

“Fear not, I will continue to support the Nubian nation.” The man delivered indifferently in a minor effort to put the prince’s uneasiness aside. The boy’s distress was too evident in his features, like an open book reflecting the uncertainty after recent events.

The teen still remembered the uncomfortable sting as the priest summoned the effects of the millennium scale. The minutes were endless as the artifact pursued the truth inside his heart, everyone dropping their jaws in amazement as the verdict turned to his favor.

“You will?” He managed to whisper, the words drawing the sovereign’s attention.

The man’s clever eyes contemplated the creature before him, studying his reactions and falling into the mystery of his response.

“You actually believed I would let my decisions be altered by the actions of someone who has no claim on the throne?” He questioned with a note of aggravation, the boy clearly giving himself too much credit for something that was not related to him.

Yugi froze at the frank declaration of the pharaoh, the revelation clearly admitting his confusion in his eyes.

“It is rare for an illegitimate son to inherit the power of a country.” He began, his gaze firmly settled on the prince’s. “You never possessed such power to begin with. We merely used your presence to deliver a message of good will to the country.”

The teen clenched his fists against his chest, unsure of how to react at the moment. He could feel his distress growing as the confessions carved the truth in his mind, both his fears and sacrifices merit to nothing while the Egyptian authorities used his royal blood as a convenient tool for propaganda.

“But…what you said…in your room…” The teen whispered, his shoulders shaking.

“The absence of responsibility of your country does not absolve you from your own actions.” The sovereign stated clearly, raising his eyebrow at the obvious statement. “I won’t allow anyone to make a fool of me or anyone under my rule, regardless of what the scales state.”

Yugi looked into the eyes of the pharaoh, the rage quickly escalating into his beautiful visage.

“So why did you do those horrible things to me?” He almost screamed. “I was no threat to you or your country yet you imprisoned me all this time and used my body for your own pleasure!”

The monarch’s expression remained unchanged as the words echoed inside the bathroom, the prince breathing harshly and tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes.

“How forward of you to accuse me of raping you when it was so clear you were enjoying it.” He delivered mercilessly, Yugi’s anger extinguished while his knees failed as he sat against the floor.

“I didn’t…” He whispered, feeling his heart sink as he realized the lie behind his words.

Atemu allowed a few minutes of contemplation before his sensuous frame approached the opposite site of the pool. His elbows supported his upper body against the edge with ease as his hand took the delicate face of the prince.

He faced the tortured expression of the young monarch, once again his desire growing by the expressive display of the teen.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I wanted you.” The pharaoh whispered sincerely, his senses catching the fragrant scent coming from the dancer’s skin.

Yugi’s hand rose to the side of his face, his fingers trying to undo the hold of the monarch who only brought him closer to himself.

His lips burned under the insistent kiss, lilac eyes closing involuntarily as a shiver snaked through his spine. He truly couldn’t summon any resistance under the resigned attraction the pharaoh held over him, the exasperating realization hitting him with full force every time he returned the action on his lips.

His head was spinning as they parted for air, his thoughts cloudy and a drunken feeling enveloping him while the arousing scarlet pools induce an addicting passion.

“How long are you going to keep fighting me?” Atemu whispered against the pale neck, his slender fingers roaming through the prince’s thigh as a helpless moan escaped into the moist air.

How could he surrender when there was no opposition from him? The teen was his regardless of what was at stake and the truth was beyond mortifying.

Yugi admitted his attraction for the man since the first time he set eyes on him, falling into the spell of his charm and yearning for his touch since their first meeting.

Had his will to fight for his country and his acceptance of the conditions been all an excuse to relieve his guilt for his attraction for the pharaoh?

“Why?” A question blurted from his lips as his thoughts broke through the turmoil of his confusion.

Atemu listened to the beautiful sound of his lover’s voice, his efforts doubled as his strong frame lifted higher from the water.

“Perhaps I should answer your question through your body.” That husky voice delivered against his skin, slow droplets traveling through the firm muscles of the inviting god.

His small frame was shaking slightly, his body enduring a chill inside the warm room. His legs couldn’t find strength to stand, his mind still in turmoil after the shocking information. Every caress only reaffirmed his present situation, not a political prisoner but the pharaoh’s whore. He would seek him to satisfy his needs and be disposed after the lust faded away.

The man pulled deeper into the pool, dragging the teen still fully clothed into his arms and inside the water. The pale arms sought a hold of the monarch’s shoulders while dragging the slender body against his naked frame. His feet could barely touch the floor of the bath, his own hair soaked and the weight pulling it down into the surface.

No words were exchanged as the handsome monarch reclaimed his lips, the insisting hands pressing the little one against him and feeling the erratic beat of his heart.