Ascension [A Yu-Gi-Oh! FanFiction]

18: Hands

AN: Want to stop and make a shoutout to all my loyal readers! There's not many of you, but I appreciate your readership more than you know. As a special thanks, I've got a lovely surprise in store for you all! I've been working with an extremely talented manga artist by the name of SilvaSphinx to turn the last scene of this chapter into a short manga sequence. I absolutely love how these illustrations came out, and I hope you do, too! Make sure to check out SilvaSphinx's deviantArt in the External Link button at the bottom of the chapter :)

Anyway - hope you enjoy!

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Atem kept his head low, carefully watching his footfalls on the steep, rocky slope. Every once in a while, he would flick his eyes up to see his father's cloak billowing behind as he led the way up the winding path toward the top of the Theban Necropolis. The image conjured within Atem a memory of following this very same path nearly ten years earlier, after his mother had been laid to rest. Back then, it had been his brother's back that Atem watched as he climbed, and the path had seemed somehow softer — less jagged and worn. Now, he struggled to even maintain his balance among the shifting sand and stone.

When they finally reached the summit, instead of looking out over the Nile and the city below, Atem found himself turning back, squinting against the evening light into the shadow-strewn Valley of the Kings. At the bottom, the line of his brother's mourners had just begun to disperse, kicking up clouds of dust as they made their way back down the path toward the city.

"Come, Atem." His father's voice finally summoned his eyes eastward. "Sit with me."

With a deep breath, Atem climbed up the last embankment, revealing to him the city of Thebes. Even though this was only a small part of the Egyptian kingdom, it somehow seemed larger than ever — stretching out as far as the eye could see, still teeming with life and spirit even as the daylight hours dwindled.

Atem looked away and moved toward where his father sat on a large flat stone nearby. The Pharaoh was as still as a statue, moving only his eyes as he surveyed his dominion. Atem lowered himself quietly to the edge of the stone, careful not to disturb his father's musings.

"This will be yours someday."

The words alone were almost enough to send Atem's blood running cold. It had been a week since Tefnak and Meriti's passing, and while the court had been whispering incessantly about the new line of succession, Atem had somehow managed to prevent such thoughts from infecting his mind. Now, with his father's utterance, there was no denying it. One day, Atem would become Pharaoh.

"Are you ready to accept that responsibility?"

Atem looked up to see his father staring hard at him. At first, Atem had intended to give his father the answer he was looking for — that he was prepared to ascend the throne, to become a god among men. But looking into his father's eyes, he knew he could not lie. Slowly, Atem shook his head.

The Pharaoh's face softened, and he smiled. "I have always appreciated your honesty, Atem," he said. "But we must work at once to change that. I do not know how many years I have left, and I still have many lessons to teach you."

Atem found himself growing almost indignant at his father's words. After having Tefnak and Meriti ripped mercilessly from the world of the living, it felt like an insult to even think that the gods might try to take away his father as well.

"Tell me, my son," Aknamkanon said softly. "What is it you fear most about becoming Pharaoh?"

Atem straightened his brow and turned to look out over the river below, its placid surface streaked with orange in the sunsetting light. "So many people. So many lives to watch over." He swallowed hard. "How do you know whether or not you're making the right decisions for them?"