Ascension [A Yu-Gi-Oh! FanFiction]

25: Low

Atem kept his head turned up to the column of light at the end of the stairway, even as he felt his eyes begin to water. His face was still wet from tears of a different kind, leaving half-dried trails of bitter salt on his cheeks. The sunlight swallowed almost every inch of his vision, blotting out the shape of his father's body ahead, being carried up the stairs in a blanket by Seto, Mahad, Iset and Karim. But as they neared the surface, Atem saw clearly the glint of the Millennium Pendant, somehow shining even brighter than Ra's own light.

After they emerged from the chamber, Atem finally willed himself to lift a hand and cover his eyes, causing the dark shapes before him to sharpen and become clearer. His empty heart lurched to life again at the sight — the entire convoy stood facing him, the soldiers' heads hung low in respect for their fallen king. Atem scanned each of their faces, taking in the grief and anger and confusion — letting every emotion fill up his bereaved heart and give him new purpose.

Atem's attention was drawn away at the feel of a hand falling on his shoulder. He turned to see Satiah standing beside him, her amber eyes aflame in the dawning light. She looked away, toward the convoy, then nodded lightly, and Atem understood what was being asked of him.

Slowly, he stepped forward, casting himself in the same ray of sunlight that illuminated his father's body, which now rested peacefully on the ground before him. He looked upon the departed Pharaoh and opened his mouth to speak, but it wasn't until he lifted his eyes back to his subjects that words finally came to him.

"Our Pharaoh is gone," he said, surprised by the weight of his own voice. "He gave his life to protect us — his children, the children of Egypt — from the threat of darkness. But his death alone will not be enough to balance the scales of sin he inherited. A tide is rising, brothers — a tide of evil. And when it comes, it will crash down hard upon the shores of our homeland—"

Atem stopped when a dull thud echoed through the clearing, and he turned to see a soldier had dropped his shield and spear to the ground in front of him. Then came another — and another, and for a moment, Atem feared that they might be preparing to turn away — to desert him. But slowly, like ripples across still water, the soldiers began to sink to their knees, until the entire convoy had prostrated themselves before him.

His heart overflowed with honor and humility. "But we will not sit idly by while our great empire is eroded by wickedness," he went on, even louder now. "When the time comes for us to face the darkness — we will be ready. We cannot let our Pharaoh's sacrifice be in vain — we must protect our sacred realm from those who wish to do it harm, so that all men can bask in the light and glory of peace."

A silence swallowed the clearing, but it was broken only a moment later when high, solitary applause trickled in from above. While the soldiers surged to the ready again, Atem snapped his eyes to the top of the low mesa overhead, but the light of dawn had since broken over the ridge, blinding him to the source of the sound. Soon, however, sinister laughter echoed down to join the vibrato of clapping — laughter that Atem would not soon forget.

"What a truly moving speech, my prince!" Bakura stepped further toward the edge, towing a horse behind him. "Or should I say Pharaoh?"

The thief's eyes flicked to where the departed king was lying limp on the ground, and almost immediately, he began to roar with laughter. Atem felt his blood boiling at the sound, and he curled his hands into fists.

"I knew the gods would have words for your father...but this—!" He howled again. "This is better than anything I could have hoped for! The great Pharaoh Aknamkanon, cast into the underworld by his own stupidity! How does it feel — to inherit such a pathetic and shameful legacy?"