Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of the characters. Please don't sue me (all you'd get would be some fat chickens)

AN: Hey, chapter 1! Some of you (all 4 who read the intro...) might be wondering what the title of this story has to do with anything. But it does have a point, and I'm certainly not referring to table salt. Here's a little contest for those of you who are into that sort of thing. If you can figure out what I'm trying to say with the title (and it is a moral, or at least a suggestion of what to, or not to, do), I'll write whatever character you want into this fic (even if he/she is from another series, as long as I've seen it, for ideas on what I've seen check out my author resume) You can just put your answers in a review, or email me at athena_crikey@hotmail.com If no one gets it, I'll tell you in the last chapter (assuming we get that far.)

"Speaking"
'thinking to oneself'
/Yuugi to Yami/
//Yami to Yuugi//

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It was night again. And again, Yami was in his homeland of Egypt, now standing in his chariot beside that of the Pharaoh as he waited for the command to charge. On the sloping dunes before them the enemy troops could be seen mustering, and generally mulling around impatiently, no doubt waiting for the mad Pharaoh to charge to his own death. That was certainly what Yami was waiting for. Although he loved his father as a father, he had little respect for his choices as a ruler, and Egypt's pain at the hands of the current Pharaoh weighed heavily on his mind.

Behind him the army stood, bronze spears in hand. And behind them every civilian who could wield a scythe. The nearby villages and cities had been emptied for this battle, and Egypt's army certainly seemed to have the number advantage although it would be sorely lacking in fighting skill. Yami squinted into the rising sun and sighed. His father couldn't even plan the battle so that the sun would be in the eyes of their enemies. They were lost.

To his left, the Pharaoh bellowed some ancient war cry and the army leapt to its feet and sprinted after his advancing chariot. Yami whipped up his own horses after it, holding the reins in one hand and a sword in the other. The sun glinted off the weapons as they sought their targets, some finding them and others falling to the ground with their owners. Yami drove straight through the first charge of the enemy, following his father through the throng of fighting men towards the top of the dune. One of his horses screamed as the other fell to the ground, a spear in its chest. Yami was thrown to the ground, rolling hard on the burning sand. The small grains covered his head and body, choking him. Someone stepped on his back., and Yami bucked up like an angry beast. He then reared up like a demon from the tomb, his sword swiping right and left, a blur in the sun. Sand flew in all directions, followed by cloth, weapons and anything else that happened to stand in front of him. A few of his warriors had reached him now, and fought to push the danger away.

Yami looked up, shielding his eyes with his sword, and watched as his father crested the summit of the dune. Time seemed to stop as a spear flew from the other side, striking the Pharaoh directly in the chest and sending him flying off the back of his chariot and rolling down the hill, just as his son had done. But the Pharaoh did not rise.

Yami watched in horror as enemy soldiers surrounded the Pharaoh, dragging his body up. The young prince fought through his guards, taking many soldiers unawares as he was considerably far behind the front lines. He got close enough to see the spear in his father's chest.

The new Pharaoh bowed his head as the battle raged about him, the wind picking up sand and tossing it to and fro into the troops, blinding some and pushing others onto the points of their own swords. Through the storm Yami stood tall, the winds swirling about him, his rare golden bangs shining in the sun, watching the battle with eyes as hard as stone.

A golden box fell at his feet, having been dropped there by some playful wind perhaps. Yami stared at it, its golden sides nearly blinding the new Pharaoh. As he bent to pick it up a spear flew through the air, passing through the space his heart had occupied a second earlier. Yami saw nothing but the box, and as he picked it up, everything seemed to stop completely, a throwing knife was suspended in the air only a hand's width from his right shoulder. He looked around, but could see no one moving. The wind blew a whisper from the North, a cold voice calling his name.

"Yami. Yami. You will become the ruler of Egypt, and you will become our new toy."

Time started again, and everything came rushing to life, sand blowing harshly, men screaming, metal striking metal. And a quiet gasp as a knife embedded itself in Yami's shoulder.

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Yuugi woke up. Another strange dream.

/Geeze, Yami, I'm starting to think you had a very traumatizing past. That _was_ your past, wasn't it?/

Silence.

/Yami? I know you're there. You're gonna have to answer me sooner or later. Sooner would be nice. It is 4 in the morning, and I personally would like to go back to sleep./

//I suppose it was. Does it matter? We were taught to forget the past, so many bad things happened in it. Often sons would disown their fathers, or wives their sons, or everyone everyone else, for that matter. What matters is now, Aibou.//

/But a lot of good things happened in the past! I remember all sorts of great things! If you forgot the past, you'd forget your parents, or your friends! Why would you want that?/ There was no answer, and Yami lay back in bed, staring at his ceiling. Almost subconsciously his mind picked out a tune and he hummed it quietly, speaking the last few words without thought. His mind always seemed to have the right songs for the right occasions.

//What _are_ you singing now, Aibou? Honestly, it's like living with a musical troop!//

/Just something this conversation reminded me of.

"Even if you were to break tomorrow
Even if I should go blind
We'll start walking
In those times, when we were at ease" [1]

I'm glad I have my memories, because if I ever have to leave my friends or they me, they'll still be with me in my memory. Aren't you glad to remember your parents and friends in your memory?/

//My parents died when I was young, and I had no friends. Go back to sleep, Yuugi, you have school tomorrow.//

Yuugi instantly regretted answering the question, if Yami felt that way about the past of course he must have had a reason for it. 'And don't you remember the dream? He watched his father die! Yuugi, you're an idiot sometimes.' Yuugi hugged his pillow and shut his eyes.

Yami sighed to himself. He felt bad about snapping at Yuugi, after all the kid hadn't known about his past, and there hadn't been a need to burden him with it. 'You would think that after my stint as a Pharaoh I'd have some idea about how not to hurt peoples feelings. But perhaps
that's exactly why I don't. It's not like I cared about anyone I worked with, or ruled, for that matter.

I'm glad Yuugi isn't alone.'

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Dark. Heat. Yami opened his eyes slowly. He lay in under a pavilion next to a river. The air was hot and dry. Around him he could hear the groans of injured men, and the weeping of women. 'Why would there be women in a battle?' Yami sat up slowly and looked around. Or at least that was what he planned to do. He never got past the getting up stage, as everything went black and his heartbeat throbbed in his head. Some part of him registered voices around him.

"Don't move sire. You were stabbed by a knife in the shoulder, and lost a lot of blood. Thank Ra you survived. Your brothers were not so lucky."

Yami ventured to open his eyes again and found one of his father's older councilors standing above him. One, he remembered, who had been excused from the battle.

"What has happened? Where have you taken me?"

"Peace, sire. The wind had been blowing up about you while you were on the battlefield, you remember?" Yami nodded, and the councilor continued. "When you fell the wind became a full blown desert sand storm. The enemy were completely buried, most of them alive. You, and the bodies of your father and brothers were found, not a grain upon you. We feared you were dead, but it has turned out not to be the case. You are now Pharaoh. And we are in a small farming village. Soon we will return to Thebes, and you will be crowned. Long life, sire."

Yami nodded wearily and the councilor removed himself from the pavilion. All his male relatives dead. And he was Pharaoh. 'Well, you did know that if you survived this you would end up being Pharaoh. If father had, he would certainly have died soon after anyway. This was just his way of going out loudly, I suppose. But why did he have to take so many with him?'

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Yami was soon returned to Thebes, and crowned almost immediately in a quiet ceremony. There had been no warning of the previous Pharaoh's impending death (at least not to those who were unaware of the Shadow Games) and by the time the disastrous battle plans had leaked out it was too late to begin planning for the next Pharaoh and a crowning ceremony. And, since Egypt was too powerful to be left without a ruler for long, Yami was hastily shoved up on the throne with his crook in one hand and his flail in the other. On his head sat the heavy crown of Egypt, pushing his bangs down into his face. Still, he managed to look dignified, and even stern, his eyes as hard as stone and red as blood.

All in the court had feared him since he was born, for he was unnaturally calm and quiet, and intelligent. He saw the problems with his father's reign, he saw the flaws in the councilors' advice, he saw those trying to secure wealth and power for themselves; and all were punished, although none could blame the first's demise on him. It was almost as if he had a third eye, which was a disturbing thought as two demon eyes were quite enough. Many were suspicious of his odd appearance, for his skin was unusually light in tone, even when tanned by the sun, and his hair, that was a wonder in itself. No one had ever heard of a Pharaoh with hair of two colours, and certainly not three. But it was the colours themselves that disturbed the court. Gold, for his wealth as Pharaoh surely (although no Pharaoh had ever had golden hair), black for his strength, but the blood red outline of the black seemed to say his strength was covered in blood. Or would be. His future was black, so the prophets said. And the prophets had the idea that Yami knew exactly what they were saying.

Although Yami was still recovering from his wound, he insisted on giving orders and participate in hearings, intent on fixing Egypt's many troubles as soon as possible. For a while nothing exceptional occurred, apart from the usual few men and women trying to kill Yami to extract vengeance for the death of their loved ones (from either his army or that that had been buried), but they were adeptly taken care of by the guard. It was nearly a month before the wind picked up again, and brought with it the cold voice he had heard at the battle.

"Yami. Yami. Come play with us. It will be fun. You want to, don't you?"

No one else in the court heard it, and Yami ignored it, at least until he returned to his chambers for the night. There he found the golden box he had picked up at the battle sitting on a table, glowing eerily in the moonlight. It was nearly freezing to the touch, and Yami pulled his hand away sharply. He moved across the room and sat on an elaborate couch, staring moodily at it. It shimmered invitingly.

'Curiosity is not a good trait in a ruler, Yami. Ignore the box, there's something strange about it.' His common sense- at least that was what he assumed it was- told him this, as it told him who was plotting behind his back, who was ready to kill for a promotion in court, and who had stolen the fresh prunes at his ceremony. His common sense told him many things, and it was easy to listen to. Yami closed his eyes and looked away.

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Yuugi looked out at the rising sun as he pulled his shirt over his oddly shaped hair. The sunrise was always pretty on clear mornings. But it was the last thing on Yuugi's mind.

/I'm sorry about last night, Yami. I shouldn't have asked./

//It's alright Yuugi, it was a valid question. And I don't have anything to hide.//

Well, maybe not anything, but keeping the darker deeds done in your life to protect your naïve charge secret from that naïve charge didn't apply.

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The bell rang. Yuugi, Jounouchi, Honda and Anzu tumbled down the front steps of the school, walking towards the courts. Yami appeared next to Yuugi in a flash of light, causing Jounouchi to fall over onto Anzu, earning him a slapping.

"Do your friends still insist on dragging you out to play that barbaric game?"

"Yami! Basketball is _not_ barbaric! And it was invented millennia after Egyptian games, which all seem to be very dust forming, if you ask me."

"Ah, but at least there is some sort of intellectual stimulation in a game of sennen. I do not, however, see any to be found in a game where people are constantly bruising fingers and bouncing large orange balls off each others heads. Perhaps this game has rid you of all your brain-cells. It certainly seems to have had that effect on Jounouchi." They both looked at the blond youth who now lay on the ground, spaced out with a rather red cheek.

"Hey now, that's not fair! I'm pretty sure it was hockey that did that!"

"Yuugi! Yami! Aw man, you're all against me!"

"If you insist Jou'!" Honda ran off with the ball, passing it to Yuugi, who passed to Anzu.

"Hey! Get back here! That's not what I meeeeeeeaaaaaant!!!"

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[1] The last verse from "Ashita Moshi Kimi ga Kowaretemo", the season 1 opener. (title translates to "If Tomorrow You Should Break") You can find the translated lyrics to it at: http://www.xs4all.nl/~cyc76/jpop/info/artist/zard/trlashita.html and the Japanese ones at www.animelyrics.com

Well, there's chapter 1! Hopefully this will be one of the fics I somehow manage to churn out fairly quickly (unlike just about all my other ones... ^-^;;;) Thanks to all those who reviewed, it's very encouraging! I hope someone figures out the title!