The Sky Dancer

The scorching desert almost claimed his life, his determination fuelling his endeavor to save his master. Ryou could feel the dry sensation behind his throat as the heat affected his vision, his anguishing efforts to reach the capital awarding him with the clear sight of Khemet.

His camel broke the silence that settled, the young servant giving his animal a gentle pet and whispering pleasing words. The hardest part was yet to come and Ryou admitted he had no strategy in mind to infiltrate the castle. Yet, present threats would not bar his aim, the man thought as he lowered the mask’s fabric that protected his mouth and nose from the elements.

“Please hold on Yugi.” He thought out loud, commanding his mount to advance into the city’s gates.

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The golden fields danced with the sigh of the breeze, joining the melody of the running stream of the river. The fragrance of wild flowers revivified the senses as Yugi paced among the familiar atmosphere. He found himself before the same spot of his most joyful memories, locked under his heart and feeding his sorrow and homesickness when everything was taken away from him years ago.

The teen placed his naked feet under the same dirt he was born in, enraptured by the sight of a woman at the distance. His mother sang close by the edge of the stream, as beautiful as he remembered when he was nothing but a child. Her golden hair soared against the current while using her delicate hands to keep it away from her amethyst eyes. The elegance of her movements and the grace of her features was one of her characteristics that her son loved most about her, details that he remembered best.

Yugi’s eyes opened slowly pulling him away from his dream, his brow and body covered under a thin sheet of sweat. His arms ached and every muscle in his body strained with little effort.

The prince noticed flasks and beds covering the walls, no one around the unfamiliar environment. The strong scent of ointments and herbs invaded his nostrils, a cloth falling from his head into his lap as he incorporated painfully into a sitting position.

“Where am I?” He thought out loud as his vision turned hazy, touching his warm forehead with traces of a slight fever.

“You are awake.” A soothing voice called his attention as it approached. A beautiful Egyptian woman with long black hair and dressing a white tunic made her way toward the bed. “You slept restlessly for a few days.”

The lady laid him back gently against the covers, testing his temperature and diagnosing his eyes and inside his mouth. The feeling of her hands was soft and confident, no unnecessary movements as she inspected him.

“Where am I?” The prince asked while the healer took his pulse. She hardly seemed surprised that the monarch could speak her language so fluently. Even the impeccable timing of her arrival after he woke up seemed like a coincidence.

“The servants informed us of your condition. It seems the stress from recent events caused you a very high fever.” She answered him with a reserved tone as she retrieved a small tonic from the nightstand at his side.

The teen touched his head again feeling a ringing in his ears, the light from the windows aiding his discomfort.

“Don’t worry your highness, your condition is not severe.” The healer explained as she called a nearby servant on the other room. “We will get you something light to eat now that you are awake.”

The prince silently thanked the woman for her attentions, a clean basin of water and a fresh cloth brought to her. He wasn’t feeling much appetite and he considered turning down her offer, the feeling of much needed sleep quite inviting until a glimmer on the lady’s neck caught his attention.

“You are a millennium bearer?” He asked unconsciously, the priestess turning her wise eyes from the item to her patient.

“That is correct.” She began, no trace of arrogance in her voice. “My name is Isis, healer of the high council.”

She carried an aura of power, her actions so calming and precise her presence hardly equaled to a normal person. Even after recent events the prince couldn’t find it in his heart to hate her. In fact, he was grateful for her kindness, something she was under no obligation to share to a political prisoner and traitor of the nation.

The same servant returned with some broth and water to help settle the teenager's stomach. A tray was carefully placed on his lap as his gaze focused absently into the simple meal.

Isis decided to step away and let the prince eat before a pair of tears fell over his closed fists, a quiet sob stopping her attempt to rise. The teen opened his eyes in consternation, not fully understanding the reason of his breakdown.

"I… I'm sorry." He mumbled, covering his eyes under his fingers when he was unable to regain his composure.

The priestess observed the young monarch with a look of compassion in her smart eyes. As a healer she understood the influence emotions could evoke over the physical body. The boy had been ripped from his homeland, everything familiar to him torn, and forced to confront an uncertain fate with his life on the line. It was apparent how the fever broke his defenses after the tremendous stress he endured, no opportunity or a familiar face to help him release all that strain.

She made a move to comfort him, her hand barely grazing his shoulder when a vision of the future broke her line of thoughts, her body freezing and ripping her attention of her surroundings. She watched the sky covered by ominous clouds, the once steady atmosphere contaminated by sharp and poisonous winds without warning. The buildings crumbled as the earth ripped apart, screams of fear and pain making the priestess’ skin crawl.

Even the palace, once proud and magnificent, was struck by lightening and enveloped in a blazing inferno. The burned corpses of Khemet’s citizens lay scattered among the streets, the storm brushing them away leaving nothing on its place.

The author of such massacre manifested as threatening snake, it’s jaws covered in blood and human flesh. Underneath it stood the unequivocal master of the creature, whose frame was reflected on the sapphire irises of the priestess. The golden eyes of the man contrasted with the darkness enveloping his face making it impossible to distinguish his identity.

Unconsciously her fingertips touched the cold metal of her millennium necklace as she returned to the present. Her shaken expression turned toward the prince, the child unaware of her disturbance or his surroundings. Her thoughts wondered how the monarch was related to the apocalyptic vision she just experienced. Was Khemet in danger? Who was the one responsible for such tragedy? Hundredths of questions flew into her head and not enough answers to settle her troubled heart.

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Atemu’s tongue glossed his lover’s lip demanding entrance and awarded without any hesitation. Her arms rested over his bare shoulders, fingers grasping his hair as the pharaoh felt the caresses over his sensible skull. He groaned pleasantly inside her mouth, relishing the pleasant ministrations.

Passion escalated as their naked bodies melded under the lavishly sheets of the monarch’s bed. Skin increasing in temperature, their mouths savoring the taste of anise seeds and spices with each kiss and bite.

“Atemu.” The concubine whispered in temptation, her soft hand resting on the ruler’s face. His eyes remained half shut in a sensual expression, his lips swollen from their exchange. The need was evident as the girl’s thighs pressed against the pharaoh’s fingers, each digit conveying wild and sensual moans. He heard the man utter sweet words between kisses, roaming her body with a hungry mouth.

The ruler traced her skin with graceful fingers before his warm breath followed, her hips raising involuntarily brushing Atemu’s naked waist. The monarch felt the pleasurable shiver as he took a savage bite on the girl’s neck, reliving the abused skin with his tongue before kissing it.

“Please.” She begged on the monarch’s ear without reluctance as lust began taking over her mind. His hand handled the soft thigh, tracing random lines with his fingertips over the firm leg.

“Such a hasty woman.” Atemu called in their embrace, raising her body with ease and laying it on top of him. He brushed her naked breasts before his mouth devoured the sensible skin, the sheets filled in provoking scents.

The firmness between his legs was noticed as he softly turned her body to the side while caressing her breasts and stomach. His butterfly kisses brushed over her shoulder blade while the girl took a careful bite of his finger. The pharaoh let an animalistic groan escape from his baritone voice and throat, his stiff member brushing her backside. The woman nibbled on the corner of her lip to suppress the loud and pleasurable noises threatening to spill from her mouth, losing her mind into the bliss.

“Don’t do that, I want to hear you.” He whispered hotly into her ear while the burning breath caressed the sensitive flesh. She relieved her lip before heavenly pants escaped her mellow voice.

“I want to devour you completely.” He whispered into her neck as she began to brush against his member, the monarch panting heavily from the shocking pleasure.

His mind indulged itself as his fingers brushed against her entrance, his hot tongue loving a soft, pink nipple becoming stiff in an instant. The ruler drank everything as the girl begged for the pharaoh to end his delicious torment. Atemu rested his face on the back of her ear, trusting his second finger more firmly and faster.

The girl’s eyes opened and her hips pushed upward, a small yell escaping from her throat. The monarch smirked, turning his fingers into that specific point as she squealed in pleasure. He took hold of the back of her neck with his free hand and kissed her possessively, the gentle tempo gone as the woman fought for dominance inside their mouths. He drowned each gasp that escaped her with every new trust.

“Atemu…please.” The woman urged, her body pushed against the sheets as the leader drowned her figure under his impressive frame. His eyes darkened as their force drove the girl into submission.

The pharaoh position himself between her legs, her eyes shut fiercely as the warmth and tightness pushed against her entrance. Her nails sank deep into the sun kissed skin of the sovereign, a savage groan coming from the man’s deep voice.

He placed her slender hands over her head, their fingers interlacing with each other. The monarch’s hips drove unrestricted, the sound invading the room with their bodies hitting against each other as the bed danced with each trust.

The girl’s breath came short along Atemu’s, grasping the sheets with force turning her knuckles pale. The man groaned while keeping his harsh and forceful lunges driving both into ecstasy. They exchanged their positions, the girl’s face against the mattress as her hips raised to meet the man’s shovels. Her breasts hanged in the air, moving in free motions along the wild pumping. His firm hands took a good hold of her hips, his strength pulling her upper body toward him before seizing her chest. The position allowed the concubine to seek the ruler’s mouth as her arms rested on the back of his neck, his thrusting still unbounded.

One hand enclosed her jaw as the man sank his teeth on her neck, the moan escaping involuntarily as a thrilling pleasure snaked through her entire body. The man’s impressive force carried the girl against the bed’s frame, allowing the concubine to grasp the wood against the shaking ripping her hips apart. There was a full tension against her legs and stomach, warning the ruler she was close to her peak. Atemu could feel the closing of the walls around him, a hint to push even harder and concentrating in his own relief.

“Ah!” The woman opened her eyes abruptly, one scream escaping her mouth as she reached her limit. The monarch followed after her, releasing his seed as the trembling shook his body. Atemu’s golden bangs were soaked and attached to his face, his forehead resting against the concubine’s shoulder as his lips kissed the soaked flesh.

The pharaoh slowly pulled out from her, the friction making him gasp as he turned back to the mattress with the exhausted girl against his arms. He found his body relaxing as the stress washed away replaced with a dim satisfaction.

It had been a while since he found physical release after the conflict, his harem conveniently close for such occasions after hard weeks of never-ending duties as new pharaoh. The girl whispered something but he seemed too at peace to pay any attention, answering with a simple hold of her body before he let himself go to sleep.

A knock interrupted his quiet thoughts as the guard’s made an announcement outside the door.

“Our deepest apologies my pharaoh. Priest Mahado requests a brief audience. Shall we ask him to return later?” The guard’s deep voice respectfully delivered the message from the other side, their leader brushing his tired eyes as he lay over the bed.

“Let him into the waiting room, I’ll join him presently.” He answered.

The lover at his side raised her body from the mattress, barely covering her beautiful frame with the sheets. Every concubine understood the rules established during visits for the monarch, none allowed to sleep by the pharaoh’s side unless requested by the sovereign himself.

“I shall take my leave if my lord allows it. Is there anything else I can do for you?” She asked with a seductive tone as the man took a brief look at her.

“That will be all.” He dismissed, the girl covering herself under a prepared robe once she climbed out of the bed. A deep bow pushed her long locks forward before she excused herself through a latent exit.

The man enjoyed the brief minutes of solitude as he brushed his tired face, convincing himself to join his priest in the alternate room. He was curious as to why the man would request his counsel at the late of night.

The monarch dressed his naked frame with a robe of his own, his bare feet hardly making a sound as he exited his bedroom.

The priest remained standing, looking into tapestry hanging on the wall with an absent mind. He listened the door open and turned his tall frame toward his sovereign, a respectful bow bending his back before apologizing for the late hour.

The pharaoh dismissed the apologies of his best friend as he invited the man to take a sit, his steps headed toward the table and filling two golden cups of fragrant wine.

“It seems your health is finally improving.” He mentioned casually, taking the offered cup from monarch as he emptied the cup himself.

Atemu briefly turned his scarlet eyes toward the open door of his dormitory, the evident mess of the sheets and the scattered clothing lying on the floor. A smirk dressed his features but he made no comment as he filled his cup again.

“What is troubling you my friend?” The young warrior asked as he took in the appearance of the priest. He was still fully dressed and even his sword lay inside its shed hanging from his belt.

“I just spoke with your cousin, he agrees that is time for us to return to Nubia and watch over the situation.” Mahado began as the cup rested untouched between his hands.

“It hasn’t even been two months since our return. Did something happen?” The sovereign arched an elegant eyebrow, not fully understanding their haste to return to the capital.

Mahado remained silent as thoughts rumbled through his head. A few days ago Isis confided a secret of a disturbing vision, no evidence of the same images returning as she consulted her millennium necklace. The man himself decided to carry an investigation before informing his sovereign, the real reason behind his late visit.

“We got a few reports of some bandits dressing as Egyptian soldiers and causing some trouble around the cities.” The man reported, a weak excuse but the truth at least.

“Bandits dressed as our soldiers?” The man repeated, matching the thoughts of the priest and aware there was something more than what he was confessing.

“It’s not a distressing situation but we should deal with it as soon as possible.” The man repeated, leaving the golden cup over the table. “Situations like those can cause even greater tension between the population if left unattended.”

Atemu watched with assertive eyes as he inspected the smooth features of his best friend. The man was his closest ally and a brother to him since childhood. He fully trusted him with his own life and decided to let him carry whatever plans he had in mind, confident he would report to him when the situation was appropriate.

“Very well, go ahead and make preparations. We promised to deliver provisions and stock to the survivors of the capital anyway, make sure to take care of that.” The man said, leaving his empty cup over the table and taking a seat facing the priest.

“I will my friend.” The man answered before intertwining his long fingers over his lap, “It seems Kisara will join us. Seth had a hard time explaining his reasons and didn’t convince his daughter to remain in Khemet.”

“I’m not surprised.” Atemu brushed his eyes again as a smile dressed his lips at the mention of the fact. “Take Jonoh as well to watch over her, Seth will be too busy and I won’t allow her to be unprotected.”

“I thought you say that, don’t worry he has been informed by Seth himself.” Mahado answered, smiling ever so slightly.

After a brief silence the pharaoh’s gaze turned toward the same tapestry Mahado was inspecting earlier. “Isis mentioned a few days ago I need therapy to repair my flow of magic.”

Mahado made a silent sigh at the comment, not surprised of the priestess’ suggestion. “Is your body enduring some strain again?”

“No, it’s only a precaution. I cannot allow the shadows to roam freely.” The pharaoh mentioned absently while Mahado pictured the dire consequences the lack of supervision of the millennium puzzle could bring.

“Don’t push yourself to hard.” The priest mentioned, Atemu understanding the message under his words since his best friend wouldn’t be around to watch over him.

“Don’t worry, regardless of what people think I’m still mortal.” The man expressed with an amused mock on his features. Never believing for a moment the divine similitude he had to the deities.

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The council was currently seated inside the meeting chamber, their sovereign by the front of the table and Siamun at his side. A long roll of papyrus extended in his weathered hands with a descriptive list of their inventory. Before embarking on the preparations of the priests’ departure, the next days handled the local affairs of the nation and allocation of resource for Nubia’s condition.

Their heavy investment on the agriculture and trading routes was their economical strategy to improved Khemet’s prosperity and treasury. They were no longer obliged to pay tributes to a mad king and such numbers could be offered to his own people for consumption and trade.

The day was clear with Ra’s rays illuminating the white room of the beautiful architecture and decorated with rich furniture. Several artists and builders were currently working over the murals and structure of the ceilings while priests and servants performed their daily duties among the reconstructed rooms. The palace had been renovated in order to represent the new status of Khemet by suggestion of council.

Meanwhile, the Pharaoh approved funds to handle the construction of new healing centers and helping farmers in agricultural projects. He knew trading could improve their lives significantly and such resources would help to acquire more control over Nubia who was unstably going through a new reform of government. Khemet had expanded its territory to the South and West, tensions among the Egyptians and locals provoking some civil unrest.

“What happened to the tributes of grain and cotton sent on previous years?” Seth asked out loud as he reviewed the current inventory of their stock houses.

“King Sulum was known to sell the supplies to private investors and keep the profits for personal use. Their own stock was hardly distributed among the population.” Karim spoke as he reported the information from previous ambassadors sent to deliver the merchandise.

“Taxes were high even among owners of small estates.” Isis also reported, conscious of the situation among the population of Nubia. “Failing to meet payments would end up in a decommission of the land as well as incarceration.”

“What happened to the funds?” Atemu asked, his lips hidden by his elegant fingers as his arms rested on the edge of the table, his eyes holding the attention of the priests.

“Most of the funds were invested in private expenses and construction of additional palaces among the nation.” Karim mentioned, having visited a few of the buildings himself and conscious of the excessive luxury dressing the insides of the structures.

“That would explain why his people suffered in extreme poverty and hunger. Nothing ever reached their hands.” Seth spoke with a clear understanding of situation, his personality preventing any display of personal comments about it.

The room remained silent as they pondered the situation, facing the fact that Khemet was under no condition to aid the needs and the reconstruction Nubia required. Their enemy’s treasury was emptied after rushed efforts to relocate the massive fortunes outside the nation and reaching the royal members once the war ended. The prize was lost after local mercenaries attacked the surviving royal family during their desertion.

“We need a sponsor.” The pharaoh mentioned, a plan already forming inside his head.

“Who do you propose?” Aknadin asked, watching his nephew from the end of the table.

“We shall send word to Rome and summon Pegasus. He has been our benefactor for years.” The monarch answered, remembering previous conferences he attended with his father and the roman.

“Even with the history of past transactions the amount is too extensive for a single benefactor to take care of it.” Karim mentioned looking at the numbers in front of him.

“He won’t refuse.” Atemu mentioned confidently. “We can offer him the royal state in Kush and the others will be sold to private investors, the money can be used on the provisions and reconstruction efforts we promised to the population.”

The councilors ponder on the suggestion, quite a tempting offer and a simple solution to their lack of funds.

“What about the funds for Khemet’s compensation?” Aknadin asked brining the subject of the reimbursement to atone to the victorious party after war.

“We will set tariffs under the same model we employ here in Khemet. This should allow growers to improve their conditions and raise the living standards of Nubia.” The pharaoh spoke, meetings disapproving eyes from his uncle and cousin.

“What you suggest absolves Nubia of their actions against our country.” Aknadin mentioned, his firm tone not affecting the sovereign’s quiet template.

“People have paid enough for the decisions their ruler imposed. They are under no conditions to compensate us when they can’t even feed themselves.” The pharaoh stated just as firmly.

“I agree with the pharaoh. It would be in our best interest to cooperate with the improvement of their nation instead of trying to punish them ever further.” Mahado expressed, backing Atemu’s decision.

“Do you believe people will not see this as a sign of weakness from our part?” Seth mentioned, not entirely convinced of his cousin’s decision.

“Not after experiencing for themselves what their new ruler is capable of. Everyone believes pharaoh Atemu is able to summon a deity at will. This is something we can use for our advantage.” Isis mentioned, confident of the visions she consulted.

The council looked at their leader, aware of the stories that traveled around the nations of his deeds.

“Very well, I shall dispatch a messenger to Rome.” Aknadin volunteered, the conclusion of the meeting a silent relief inside the pharaoh’s mind.

Although he had been educated all his life and given a clear understanding of Khemet’s political and economical needs, he was the sort who enjoyed other kinds of activities rather than strategic meetings. The man dismissed the council, his schedule far from concluded.

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Isis returned to the healing chambers at the conclusion of their meeting. She was aware of the tasks to complete for the day and settled to check on her royal patient. She was scheduled to travel to the city and attend the developments of the new healing center under her care.

The woman was astounded by their ruler’s performance as official pharaoh. Nothing remained of the young man she knew in her younger days, a wild man full of insecurities hidden under a mask of arrogance.

She was merely an apprentice when the prince was condemned for his careless actions against their pharaoh, rumors and whispers traveling among the palace bringing tension and shame to the royal family members.

The priestess returned to the present as the pale doors came into view, a single push allowing her inside.

The magnificent vision she encountered in the room was something that not even a woman of her skills could have prevented, the encounter too prodigious it interrupted her advance.

The prince was found between the open space of the nursing, captivating the priestess with the amazing movement of his hips and the complex steps of his naked feet. The choreography gave the dancer an impression of floating between the breeze, his arms and legs conveying delicate movements like the fluency of a stream.

She disappeared behind the scenery the prince was relating, the walls vanishing as they transported themselves into the starry night sky. A soothing floor of water displayed the reflection of the moon itself. The prince’s steps shadowed the surface, hardly disturbing the smooth surface as each step conveyed small circles that traveled and disappeared at the distance.

The millennium item grant her a vision behind her startled eyes, the pharaoh calling the prince’s name in soft whispers, the tone passionate and fulfilling. Both their frames intertwined as they expressed their affection for each other, a clear and honest smile reaching Atemu’s eyes as the man sheltered the prince under his arms.

Unlike the previous vision this was clear and descriptive, the relationship upon both aristocrats fated to develop in the near future. She was filled by warmth and reassurance, settling her fears and doubts about the man’s prospect.

Yugi settled to rest as sweat traveled through the back of his slender neck, the complex movements of his dance still too demanding for his physical condition. His fever had broken down and his appetite returned after several days of light meals. The muscle pain and the stretching made him experience a soothing strain after lying down for so long. His eyes opened slowly, a soft blush dressing his cheeks as he noticed the millennium priestess watching him intently.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be up yet but, I was feeling better.” The teen apologized almost immediately, his hands twisting his simple tunic wondering if he had gotten himself in trouble.

“Who thought you to dance like that?” The priestess asked, few things really causing a lasting impression on her. The beauty of his features and the demonstration of his skills were something that could easily explain the attentions of the pharaoh.

The prince was still blushing before he lowered his eyes toward the floor.

The question brought a painful pulse in his chest, his hands settling against his middle trying to the sooth the ache the memories conveyed. He finally raised his gaze to meet the woman who remained unmoving by the entrance, his eyes displaying a profound sadness as he spoke.

“My mother.”