Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Dark Horse ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

JG-chan: Wow, I almost forgot about this fic! Thankfully I found it, though, and have decided to keep posting. The chapters henceforth are revised and edited, so I hope to get better results this time round! Enjoy, fellow fans!

 

“Dark Horse”

Rating: NC17

Genre: Drama, Romance, Hentai.

Written and edited by: JoeysGal

Credits: Various websites and books providing me with information on Ancient Egypt.

Warnings: This fic contains sexually explicit material! If you're offended by shojo-ai/yuri or shounen-ai/yaoi you should probably quit while you're ahead xD

 

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or anything else you may read about in this fiction! I don't make money off of it, nor will I ever -.-;;

 

Dragonlady222: Hey! I forgot you reviewed this! I'm glad you like it. This fic seemed to be more popular on aff.net than it was on here, but I figured I might as well post up the rest and see what people think of it. I've revised and edited it since posting it on aff.net so I'm hoping for better results this time `round ^_^;;

 

 

Chapter Two

**~***~**

 

 

Isis studied the young woman sitting across the stone bench from her. Scrolls of papyrus, pots of ink and sticks of charcoal covered the bench between them. Kisara stared at Isis, waiting intently for the day's lesson to begin. She was eager to learn the language, but Isis could tell that there was something that Kisara needed to say. She decided to start a new topic.

 

“Today, we will be going over the human emotions… and maybe the names for parts of the human body, if we have time.” Isis said to Kisara, who only stared back in slight perplexity.

 

“What is `emotions'?” She asked in her foreign accent that made Isis strain to understand her at times.

 

“`Emotion' is the word people use to express themselves. The way one feels.” Isis said, pacing around the room, using hand gestures to help the young woman understand. “When one laughs, or smiles, it is called being `happy'. The opposite of happy, for example, if we cry, is called being `sad'.”

 

Kisara had an unnervingly expressionless face that made Isis tense. “I be feeling…sad… now, Isis.”

 

Isis closed her eyes, satisfied with the reaction she had planned on getting. She sat down again. “Why do you feel sad, Kisara?”

 

Kisara tightened her eyes shut, frustrated that she didn't know the words to express herself. “I like Seth, but… how do you say… I not feel… enough to marry him…”

 

She's not in love…She's not in love with Seth! “It's called `love'. Kisara… you cannot go through with the ceremony if you don't feel sincerely for him.”

 

“I know that, but what can I do? If I go back into the town I will die. If I marry Seth I will not be happy ever… I will not ever see my home again.”

 

Isis understood her frustration. What puzzled her is where `home' to Kisara actually was. She couldn't run away, she needed someone to protect her. If she stayed, she would be unhappy with Seth for the rest of her life. It was a painful decision to make… but something had to be done, Isis thought. What would I do if I were in her situation? I think I would rather risk my life by escaping than live in bitterness for the rest of my days… Isis' train of thought was interrupted by the young woman speaking once again.

 

“Besides, I think I…love…in someone that is not Seth.”

 

Isis frowned in bemusement. “If not Seth, then who?”

 

“You.”

 

She couldn't say she wasn't expecting it, but Isis was still surprised. “Me…?”

 

Kisara smiled timidly, and nodded. “I know it might…uh…”

 

“Shock,” Isis filled in, trying to keep composure.

 

“…shock… you, as women are not supposed to…” - Kisara struggled to remember the word she had just learnt - “…love… other women, but I cannot help myself. To look at and be with you is such a nice feeling in me.”

 

Isis sat, heart racing, fingers unknowingly grasping the stone table. Inside her, she knew that there could be a chance of freedom for Kisara, but it would involve a high price that she wasn't prepared to give up. But in seeing her vision for Seth earlier, she had seen Malik. Why had she seen him if he wasn't trying to tell her something? Was he looking for her? Did he want her to come and find him? All Isis had to do was look into her tauk again. She could find some answers; find out how to shape the inevitable. But Isis was thinking too far ahead.

 

“We must talk about this in private, Kisara. Come this way,” Isis rose to her feet gracefully, leading the young woman with hair the colour of the sky to her living quarters.

 

Isis pushed back the leopard skin drapes to allow Kisara into her room, and followed in after her. She could see the look of wonder and awe on Kisara's face at the beautiful things residing in her room. On top of a wooden cabinet were figures of animals and Gods made of clay and ivory, and many assorted items of jewellery made mostly of gold, lapis lazuli, turquoise, amber and red ocher. A necklace or two was seen decorated with feathers and ivory beads, but the designs were kept fairly simple. Also on the cabinet was an intricately designed box containing Isis' cosmetics, such as black kohl and red ocher paste for her lips. Covering the sandstone floor were cured hides of antelope, and there was a rare Black Panther skin on the top of Isis' bed.

 

“Your room is much more beautiful than Seth's,” Kisara mentioned, still mesmerized at the beauty surrounding her.

 

A hint of red shaded Isis' cheeks at the praise. “Thank you. Take a seat, Kisara. Let us talk.” Isis gestured to two hand-crafted seats weaved out of wicker, and sat down in one. Kisara sat in the other, looking at the petite priestess curiously.

 

“Is there something wrong?”

 

Kisara's naivety and innocence was mildly frustrating, but Isis had to smile nonetheless. “Kisara… do you realize what is at stake, here, if you decide not to wed to Seth?”

 

“But I…I love you, Isis!” Kisara countered, raising her voice slightly to emphasize her need. “I cannot marry Seth when I know it is not the right thing for me! I wants to give up everything for you… I know you may be confused, but please… let me explain.”

 

Isis had strained to hear what Kisara was saying due to her heavy, guttural accent and how her words came out short and choppy instead of slow and flowing together nicely. She had a fair idea that Kisara wanted to tell her what she had needed to say since the time she arrived. Isis tuned out from whatever else was spinning around in her head and decided on listening to what Kisara needed to get off her chest.

 

“I am listening.” Isis said, permitting Kisara to begin.

 

Kisara sighed and looked toward the floor, sifting through memories of her homeland. “When I was…child… I lived far away. The men of my people always said about making great journey south, where people with dark skin lived.” Seeing Isis nod, Kisara continued. “Big mountain…near my village… fire and smoke come out of the top, and many people die. My mother and father die, too. I not ever stop crying… wanted to get away. So I left…I started my own great journey, just like the men talked about. I wanted to see these strange people and the hot land they lived in, for myself.

 

“Not many men live…near me. I live around many women…older, younger, some same age as I. The women had belief that they could live without men…they loved each other in that way. I need no man… I fall for other girl…name Yolanda…so beautiful. She have yellow hair, eyes brown; not like you, but just as beautiful. But one day… a man took her away… I know I not see her again… so I grieve. That was when I left…”

 

Isis felt a hard lump in her throat that wasn't going to subside any time soon. Kisara's story had touched her, and she knew now why she was so crestfallen being promised to Seth - her sexuality was the same as hers. Not only that, she was still in despair over losing her former woman, Yolanda. She had to do something for Kisara; she had to heal her broken and frightened heart, and teach her to love again. She didn't care what happened to her now - she could lose her status as the only priestess of royal Egypt, could be stripped of her title and her luxuries - she needed to escape with Kisara, and she needed to find Malik, knowing now that he was out there. That, if nothing else, was her primary motivation - to find her brother.

 

The black-haired woman looked at Kisara who was biting her bottom lip; head bowed looking at the ground, tears standing in her dark blue eyes. “…Maybe you and I aren't so different, after all.”

 

Kisara looked up, her pretty blue eyes now bloodshot from the forming of tears. Their equally deep blue eyes fusing together, Isis and Kisara reached to each other with outstretched arms and knelt together on the floor, holding each other, tears streaming down both their faces. In holding Kisara, just feeling the warmth of her body against her own, Isis felt that a gap had been filled in her once-thought empty life. It was true that she had trained many years and had worked hard at being where she was, but one thing she had always lacked was love from another. Respect, she had. Pride, she had. Friends, she had. But love…she did not. Still holding Kisara, she began to ponder that aspect of her life now.

 

Kisara's racking sobs began to ease on Isis' shoulder, and she sniffled, wiped her eyes, and looked up. Isis had only shed a few silent tears, so her kohl was not all that smudged. Kisara's eyes were swollen, but Isis thought she still looked as beautiful. Ribbons of hoary blue hair framing her face, Kisara tilted her head back and reached up, softly touching Isis' lips with her own. Isis returned the kiss gratefully, not entirely knowing what to do, but knowing in her heart that it felt right. The gesture was subtle, tender, and mild, but not so much that it had no effect on Isis - tingles stimulated every nerve in her body and she felt like she had never lived until this moment.

 

The kiss ended, and though Isis yearned for more, she knew that they had to keep it on the low. She had to devise a plan for her and Kisara to escape the palace… and maybe even Egypt. Am I out of my mind? Isis thought. Do I really want to give up my life of luxury and nobility for the love of a woman I barely know and a brother I'm not sure even lives? Yes. I will never find happiness here at the palace unless it's with Kisara, which is simply impossible. I will never know for sure if Malik is still out there, either, unless I leave. I must leave. I must!

 

Isis needed to think of a way that she could see Kisara alone, without anyone knowing or even giving it a thought. Isis knew the consequences if they were to be found out, and they were great. Kisara would get prosecuted for adultery, taken away and locked up, until the Pharaoh came to a decision of what to do about the situation. Isis, on the other hand, would be either severely punished for breaching her title as a priestess, and be forbidden to see Kisara again. Alternative to that, she would be cursed and sent away from the palace, never to return, and her position would be given to another appropriate woman - or man. They would not get caught out, though. She would make sure of it.

 

Isis turned her head to look at the placement of the sun in the sky. “Kisara, we must return, now. Your lesson with me is almost over. Seth will be looking for you.”

 

Kisara nodded in dismay, and staggered to her feet. Isis helped the taller woman across the room and down the stone stairway back to their table. Kisara sat down as Isis collected up her papers and ink pots, and put them back away in her tightly woven basket made from reeds. She noticed, while she was putting her things away, that Kisara had not taken her eyes off of her. She was curious as to why. Maybe she really did prefer the same sex to men, like Isis did. But if she did, why would she tolerate Seth?

 

“You have nice eyes, Isis.” Kisara said, making Isis gush with sudden embarrassment. “Since I arrive in Egypt, I not seen one woman with blue eyes like yours. Most are brown.”

 

“Thank you, Kisara. But you would be more surprised if you met my brother…” Isis replied, a sickening feeling overcoming her. “He has hair the colour of ivory, and eyes of amethyst, like these purple stones in my headdress.”

 

Kisara watched Isis gesture to her headdress and at the beautiful purple stones representing the eyes of a falcon. “Oh, I cannot imagine! White hair? And purple eyes?”

 

Isis smiled. “More of an off-white. Like…very, very light blonde. It is a genetic throwback in my line of genes. Our father had the same.” Using these technical words, and seeing the confusion on Kisara's face, Isis knew she needed to simplify her vocabulary. She was about to explain in simpler terms, when she was interrupted by Seth entering the hall.

 

“Isis, Kisara,” He greeted. “How was your lesson today?”

 

“Fine, thank you.” Kisara replied quietly as Seth leant down to kiss her cheek.

 

Seth smiled, almost arrogantly, at Isis. “How is her progress?”

 

Isis fiddled with her reed basket, taking interest in the designs and animals that were painted on it. The paintings suddenly gave her an idea. “Good, very good.” She replied. “I want to take her down to the Nile tomorrow to show her the wildlife, so she can learn the names of the plants and animals.”

 

A frown of concern formed on Seth's features. “Are you sure that is wise? Those villagers are out of their minds; it could be dangerous.”

 

“I wish to take a chariot, or camels. Perhaps horses, if Pharaoh will let me use them. Besides, no harm can come to us. I have the Sennen Tauk, remember.” Isis reasoned.

 

Seth couldn't argue with that. “I guess she is in safe hands, then.” He said. “Come, Kisara. We must ready ourselves for the banquet tonight.”

 

Isis watched the couple go, walking through the sandstone colonnades and disappearing from view. Private thoughts went around in the priestess's head; endless ideas to give her and Kisara time alone and ultimately, ideas to plan their escape. It had to be done with astute judgment, timing and agility. If either one of them mucked up on the plan that was still yet to be plotted, it could ruin everything.

 

Isis knew she had to take into account many things: spies often lay hidden in the treetops of palm trees to look out for unseen enemies coming from the all directions, meaning she would have to keep her drapes shut at all times. Soldiers patrolled the outside of the palace day and night, so she would have to find an appropriate reason to leave - with Kisara and her possessions in tow - without appearing suspicious. She thought of her plan about taking Kisara to the Nile, and smirked. If she was able to leave the palace so easily, escaping would be easier than she might first have expected.

 

**~***~**

 

JG-chan: Thanks for reading peoples, I appreciate your comments! Constructive criticism most welcome!