all disclaimers apply

' = Yugi speaking in soul room

/ = Yami speaking in soul room

Author's notes: This is the turning point chapter for this fic. The title of this fic series will become more and more evident in chapters to follow. ;)

The Motous were in awe at the spectacle before them. For Sugoroku, he had never seen a completely intact tomb before. In the tomb of the 'Nameless Pharaoh' he had only entered partially and obtained the box holding the pieces of the Millenium Puzzle. But this one bore all inscriptions and items of its occupant or occupants as it appeared it might be.

/Aibou?/

Yugi jumped at the internal interruption that broke the silent awe. 'Yes, Yami?'

/Allow me to take over? It would be best./

'Sure Yami.' and with that Yugi closed his eyes and concentrated. Within a moment, Yami took in the splendor directly. The longing for something he could not name increased. Familiarity? Home? Something more? He could not place it, but whatever it was, it was lodged deep in his heart and ached and pulsed with the rhythm of 3000 years. Yami took several cautious steps forward, towards an inscription upon the wall and aimed torchlight towards it. He could read it! It wasn't in hieroglyphs before but rather the demotic script used for the writing of most ancient Egyptian documents.

Sugoroku noticed the change in his grandson and assumed the pharaoh had taken over. He stepped nearer to the studying figure. "You can read this can't you?" he asked softly.

Yami nodded. "I didn't think I could. A while back in the museum I could not, but now...I can."

"Does any of it trigger a memory? A name or an event perhaps?" Sugoroku inquired.

"No. But I can't shake the feeling of familiarity here."

Marik joined the two. "I wouldn't be surprised. There's more to the story than what you see here. Come, I wish to show you more."

The tombkeeper led them towards one of the antechambers and shined a torch inward. "Here. A legacy rests here rather than in the Valley of the Kings like those before him. But, great care and respect was still given to him."

Yami looked upon the cartouche that was inscribed upon the side of the sarcophagus. "Anhur." As Yami spoke the name, he could feel his mind race and his heart pulsate more. The name meant something to him. That was for sure.

"Yes pharaoh, but continue on...to this faded inscription here." Marik spoke as he pointed out a nearly worn, lightly inscribed region.

"Son of Atemu. Redeemer of Blood. Sword of Egypt. Jackal." Yami spoke aloud, but could not make sense of it. "Marik, did I translate it correctly? A jackal yet a great warrior?"

"Remember pharaoh, jackals are revered creatures of ancient Egypt, not the scoundrels moderns call them today. Don't allow modern influence to corrupt your past." Ishizu replied as she joined them.

"Ahh yes. I see." Yami replied slightly confused and embarrassed. He could not remember his past well enough to remember cultural or religious normalcies. Instead he relied on what he read and what Yugi knew, but most of that was modern, not ancient memory.

"There is more pharaoh. This antechamber is only the beginning to perhaps the greatest story of upheaval ever known to the sands of Egypt. I will show you all parts of this tale first. Then you may go back and study the parts as you see fit." Marik spoke. "Past meets present in relations neither had ever correlated before." Marik added softly to his sister who walked beside though slightly behind him. Much of this was new to her as well.

Through the current antechamber was a small passageway leading to yet another antechamber. It had once bore a secret wall, but Marik had excavated it in his own private explorations. Sugoroku followed without hesitation, but Yami held back slightly, his eyes scanned the inscriptions upon the walls and ceilings. He could now read them all. The one above the passageway to the new antechamber caused him to hesitate. It wasn't a curse, but it was a warning.

"Marik, are you sure we should enter?" Yami spoke to the tombkeeper just a few steps beyond him.

"Pharaoh, yes, I'm aware of that inscription. I have studied them. It is fine for those who are believers of this cause."

"Cause? As in the rebellion?" Yami questioned. For him, it was a bit unsettling, especially to bear the name 'pharaoh' yet enter a tomb of one who may have helped unseat one. But several names he had heard in his dreams were also present here. He had to trust the tombkeeper despite his growing unease. There were so many pieces. Would he be able to place them in their rightful places correctly? Would they trigger latent memory or stir up new questions. Already he was as confused as he was before this knowledge. But he could feel it inwardly...a desire to know more, to seek truth to a mystery that has plagued him for 3000 years...his own memories.

Marik nodded.

"But according to the writings upon first entry, mention of the present king was that of goodness for his people. Why unseat a good king?"

"There are levels of goodness. Not all good is good. Some good is done in the name of something deeper, more sinister like a mask hiding something beneath it. Good on the outside, but bad on the inside." Marik responded.

Sugoroku was fascinated beyond belief! Not only was he learning more about the origins of Duel Monsters, but he was learning more about the pharaoh and his bloodline that had hallmarked the ancient game. He would have much to tell Professor Hopkins upon his return to Japan.

Yami could only hope for more answers than questions, but at the moment it was in reverse.

Ancient Egypt...

A few months passed and Anhur's strength and abilities grew exponentially. His physical body and mind were honed to a warrior's mind and a tracker's skill. Muscular yet sleek and nimble, Anhur was a spitting image of his father. His strangely purplish eyes bore the same firey intensity and course of action as his father's. He could almost be mistaken for his father if not for his different hair and slightly taller build. Nubian armorers crafted armor and a helm of the finest gold and other rare metal ores commonly mined in their nation. A golden helm with a mask that bore nothing more than eye slits hid the wearer's identity and protected his face. Light but functional 'winglets' graced outward and behind his shoulders with spires inward for arrows, swords, and other weaponry. His armor was nearly non-existent waist down. Only a few golden legbands and leather skirting graced his lower regions. Total mobility. His arms were the same with only armbands and bracelets adorning his wrists and upper arms. Again, total mobility. Like his father, Anhur's strength was not physical strength, but mental capped with a physical agility and speed unmatched by most brutish warriors. Anhur was deadliest on horse with a spear or bow however. And only the finest, fastest, nimblest stallion was chosen as his mount. A mighty beast with wild eyes and a temperment that only a volcano could love. The dark blood colored horse was named, Kamenwati, the "Dark Rebel." Anhur too, would go by a different name, that of a strange, but skilled mercenary named Baraka. Like the namesake he chose, he hoped he would become the "blessing of Egypt" and reshape its rulership for the better . News of Egyptian-paid mercenaries and bounty hunters seeking them out reached the trio's ears. All three would have to undergo some form of identity change. Kashir's pregnancy was progressing quickly and she would give birth soon. And with the impending birth, Anhur's desire for all three of them to return to Egypt was given top priority. His child MUST be born on Egyptian soil!

To prevent notice, Qeb and Kashir would sail straight through the trade route of the mighty Nile. This was the quickest route back into Egypt. Anhur would ride west and slip quietly into the Western Desert then enter Egypt through the oasis of Siwa and onto Memphis. Anhur's long trek would take him weeks, but it would throw the royal minions off Qeb and Kashir's reappearance. Kashir and Qeb would remain and await Anhur in the Egyptian city of Hierakonpolis, about a day's ride south of Thebes. Anhur would establish his mercenary skills within Memphis and southward towards Thebes. There, he would join the pharaoh's or prince's mercenary brigade or royal troops themselves. What better place to be than a member of the troops searching for himself! Anhur would learn every move, every tactic, every scenario the prince would set against him and the greatest bounty yet would be at his feet...the prince himself. In plain sight, but never seen. It was the tactic his late father had utilized as a prince and pharaoh. But as such a high status being, Atemu could never perfect it. A rival of Atemu's...the Thief King Bakura was highly skilled at twarting Atemu's disguises. With no true status to guard and no underground rival thief, Anhur knew he could perfect the skill.

Brief and hesitant, Anhur bid his old friend and love farewell as he loaded his horse with rations and weapons then commenced his journey west. A day later, from a large plateau, Anhur's gaze drew east towards the Nile in time to view the massive sail of a barge trekking north on the mighty Nile. His child would be born without his eyes upon him. But it was not something Anhur could dwell upon. Kashir and the unborn child were in the best hands they could be. Qeb would assure their safety until his life ebbed from him. Wheeling his horse downward, Anhur would no longer use his given name. His new life as Baraka had begun.

In days of harsh desert travel with the Aten an unrelentless fury of heat, Baraka's flesh changed from a bronze hue to something of a burnt copper thus furthering his disguise. Having to ration his food and water, his body toned further into hardened bone and muscle, lean and treacherous. His hair was a tousled, unkept, bleached mess. Sand storms and thorns scarred and tore at his flesh giving him the tattered, weathered look of a warrior of many battles. An unfortunate run-in with his own blade while in an unfit slumber caused a jagged scar from the outer corner of his right eye across his cheek to his nose. The son of Atemu looked nothing like his father now. Only his eyes could reveal his family's pedigree now and they were hidden deep within the mask he would wear once back in civilization. At the oasis at Siwa, Anhur, or rather Baraka saw his reflection in the pure pool of water for the first time. His appearace spooked even himself.

"I look like I've been dragged behind a camel for eternity!" he spoke to his horse and found his voice as course as the rest of himself. It had been days since he had spoken a word. The horse snorted and whinnied as if laughing at Anhur's own surprised expression.

"You think it's funny eh? Forget that pretty white mare I promised you then!" Anhur replied as he removed all the gear except the bridle off the stallion.

The horse turned and drank from the pool, but still retained an amused eye upon his master, who was now stripping to full nudity.

"What? Not as big as you I'm afraid, but it works just as well." Anhur joked before plunging into the refreshing waters.

The horse said nothing but slowly waded into the pool with him shaking dust from his mane and soaking aching muscles.

Refreshed and with water supplies replenished, horse and rider prepared for their journey onwards.

As they did so, Qeb and Kashir had already established themselves in Hierakonpolis as father and daughter. They too had taken on new names. Qeb had chosen Manu ("harbor") and Kashir adopted the name, Kepi ("Tempest"). True to expectations, Kashir bore a son within days after arriving in the city. His name was kept as his true name...Abidos, following in the tradition of "A" named sons of Atemu's bloodline and in reference to a place in Egypt thought to be an entranceway to the underworld and ancient burial place of the first pharaohs who had unified all of Egypt. It was fitting for the child who had an unknown destiny, but the blood of royal heritage.

Weeks passed and Baraka's name spread along the Nile. Even Qeb and Kashir got wind of news of a young mercenary who was so skilled that pharaoh had placed him as general of his elite calvary. The jackal had indeed made himself at home within the snake's nest. Manu and Kepi ran a small fish market at the city port, having struck a deal with the barge captain who had brought them up from Nubia.Kepi, however, was more preoccupied with raising her son and everyday longed for her lover to return and help her with the task. Abidos was proving to be the spoiled royal brat that his bloodline was notorious for being. Always loud, always demanding, Abidos was a full-time, non-stop task in himself. Soon it would take more than a first-time mother and an old man to reign the little monster in.

In roughly two months time from Nubia's departure, a strange soldier with ranking bands of gold rode confidently into Hierakonpolis and straight to the port. He came alone, but all knew him. The masked general whose face had never been seen...Baraka. Qeb and Kashir instantly recognized the mask. Anhur had returned at last! Pretending to demand to see inventory statements, Anhur cued them that they could close shop for the day and take him to their abode...away from public eye, but not in any suspicious manner. Once safely indoors, Baraka resumed his identity as Anhur with the removal of his mask. Kashir gasped at the ragged scar upon his face.

"Uh, yeah, I had a feeling you'd respond to it like that dear. It's not from anything serious. I had a run in with my own knife."

"Your OWN knife?!"

"NEVER sleep too close to your blade." Anhur joked.

"And what's all this?!" Kashir demanded as she picked up a matted mess of Anhur's hair.

"The desert winds were not kind to long locks."

"Your mother would weep!"

"My mother probably has since I was birthed. What a mess I am without a woman eh?" Then Anhur noticed Kashir's own appearance..."You're not fa----uhhh, with child anymore. Is all well?"

Kashir smiled. "You have a son. Qeb, bring him forth."

"But he's finally quiet and sleeping." Qeb half-whined, half joked. The boy was an earful and headaches were common.

"Let his father experience the banshee." Kashir giggled.

"Banshee?! You named our son, banshee?!"

"No silly, I named him in your bloodline's tradition, but I suppose banshee is a good nickname for him."

Anhur was about to respond with a comeback, but the loud wail of a baby filled the room as Qeb awoke and carried the boy out.

"Here is your son. He is Abidos." Qeb replied with squinting eyes above the piercing wails as he handed the noisy bundle to Anhur, who relucatantly cuddled him.

"Abidos eh? More fitting than banshee, but he hurts my ears. More like screech owl."

At the sound of a strange voice, Abidos quieted and studied the man holding him with eyes that matched his own.

"Spitting image." Qeb replied approvingly.

"Atemu's blood runs strong. Yet another with strange colored, highly intense eyes that any woman could lose herself within." Kashir pridefully replied.

"Yes, but those eyes are my bloodline's downfall if I don't do something about it soon." Anhur replied.

"Have you been found out yet?"

"No Qeb. Anhur is suspected as dead within the desert. Only Baraka rides upon this land. I left a skeletized corpse with some of my belongings and hair strands in the desert as I stumbled onto one of Sethos' bounty hunters. And I--uhh, this guy's rear is wet...Kashir?"

"Oh no...it's YOUR turn. You're overdue for your half of this duty." Kashir giggled.

"But I don't know how to---"

"Welcome to being a father."

After an all-to-brief leave, Anhur, or rather General Baraka had to return to Thebes. Maintaining his soldier's schedule was vital to preventing suspicion and protecting his fledgling family.

Just before returning to the Palace at Thebes, Anhur detoured slightly west and north past the royal city. Gazing upon the ancient tombs and Temples of Osiris, Anhur paid homage to his son's namesake. Taking a fistful of sand from Abydos and placing it into a small pouch, Anhur would be reminded of his son and of a destiny he must create for him. After a small tribute to the god of the Underworld, Anhur swiftly returned to Thebes to set his plans in motion. It was time for the Jackal to awaken from the Dead and reclaim his family's birthright. The 18th Dynasty wasn't finished yet and there was no way another "Set" would attain the throne. The seeds of revolution were about to be watered. Anhur had made allies in the South and West. He had also sent word to any supporters across the mighty Mediterranean Sea. If he could defeat the pharaoh or prince in a duel, he'd need an army to complete the takeover of the presiding Egyptian army and secure his hold on the throne without the interference of the other Millenium Item bearers and he didn't have time to train a peasant army. He needed experienced warriors trained in the art of combat. The pharaoh and prince were skilled duelists and warriors themselves. It would take skill to best skill.

In days to come, Anhur received word via secret messages of allies in Carthage, Assyria, Babylon, and Nubia. Atemu may have had a short reign as pharaoh, but he was respected worldwide. Anhur sported the seal of the true family bloodline and so Atemu's allies became Anhur's allies. The currently residing pharaoh and his son, though good intentioned, were power-hungry, egotistical, and had placed high taxes and payments upon allies to trade with Egypt. Anhur promised a return to the 'old ways' and a reward of returning all excess payments those countries had made. Egypt's wealth could sustain herself if done properly. Anhur would begin it, but it would be up to his son, Abidos to sustain it and bring Egypt back to a time of glory and peace without power hungry, arrogant rulers. Anhur and Kashir would assure Abidos was raised in this manner and pass it on in future generations to come.

The foreign armies were to gather in Carthage and await word from Anhur. Carthage was distant enough to have such a gathering go unnoticed. It was also a region of high trade so ships from so many different regions in the same area at the same time would not be suspect. Nubian warriors would await word in Nubia then sail or ride up or along the Nile. Thebes would not be the main target. Anhur wanted to keep the city intact. Anhur would steer the pharaoh and prince to another location--the sacred city of Abydos where the gates to the Underworld would await one or both of them. Abidos, Anhur's son's namesake would be Anhur's last stand. He had a fledgling family to protect, a world to change, and a namesake to restore. Much was at stake and Anhur's life was the least of it. Anhur bore no fear, but the white dragon with blue eyes haunted his dreams at night. If Anhur was going to best the pharaoh and prince in a duel, he had to get around the gods themselves. This required possession of a Millenium Item. A thief once acquired several and if a mere thief, king of thieves or not, could do so, then the son of Atemu could do the same. He only needed one...the rightful item of his blood...the Millenium Puzzle. With it, he could summon gods themselves...if he was worthy, but from the true bloodline of the one who summoned all three before, surely at least one would deem him worthy. It would be all he needed. If no god would respond, all would be lost in a battle that would end before it began.

to be continued...