The girl hurried through the Royal Palace, munching on a piece of bread while she was dodging servants with armfuls of linen, bowls or papyri, and ignored the annoyed looks they were giving her as she ran past them. She knew she was late- she was always late- and urged herself to run faster, her chestnut hair dancing with every movement, her feet making barely any sound on the tiled floors.
She skidded to a halt in front of two burly guards, crossing their spears in front of her, obstructing her way.
"Halt!"
Mana whined. These were the quarters of the six Priests in service of the Pharaoh, and the last hallway would lead to the Pharaoh's private quarters. There were more Priests in his service, but these six -all holders of a Sennen Item- were his most trusted and loyal advisors. Their obligations, duties and responsibilities were almost rivaled the Pharaoh's- a burden she would be sharing with them as soon as she finished her training as mage and Priestess.
"I come here everyday!" She bounced on her feet impatiently. "I'm the apprentice of Priest Mahaado!"
One of the guards narrowed his eyes at her before showing her a toothless smile.
"Oh yeah, I recognize you now. Late at usual, huh?"
He nodded at his fellow guard, and both raised their spears so she could pass.
She huffed, but dashed forward- Mahaado was painfully strict about being on time, and she really didn't want to receive another lecture... Hesitating to knock on his door, Mana heaved a sigh. She'd have to apologize for her tardiness, and knew better than to make up some kind of an excuse. Mana wasn't the person to belittle her own mistakes or try to cover them up; she was honest, even bluntly honest in her still childlike demeanor, and she wouldn't dream of telling a lie, certainly not to her teacher. His eyes would get that disappointed, disapproving look, and he would draw his lips into a thin line... and say nothing about it. She shivered. She hated that look, especially when he remained silent; she preferred to be scolded instead of being treated in silence.
"Enter."
Mana was jerked out of her thoughts, and a bright red color appeared on her cheeks. She should've known he'd sense her presence outside the door- Mahaado wasn't the greatest spirit sorcerer of all Khemet for nothing.
"Teacher, I'm so sorry..!" She stumbled over her words as she opened the door.
His room was painfully neat- nothing was out of place, no clutter, nothing at random. Every piece of furniture had its purpose, every scroll or papyri was put there for a reason. The most eye-catching object in his room was the hideous, large, massive table; Mana hated the thing with a passion, for reasons she couldn't name. She had to sit at that table for hours on end when studying, and some of the scratches and burn marks on the table top were due to her failure to conduct a spell right.
"You would not have to be sorry if you did not stay up that late at night," he said, making a dismissive motion with his hand. She nodded and went to the table to sit on the small stool, wincing as she saw the papyri rolled out in front of her. He was going to give her more assignments, she was sure about it.
"I will ask the Pharaoh to not keep you up until that time of hour," Mahaado continued, but his voice lacked its usual stern tone. Mana nodded again, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. It was still hard to think of her best friend as the Pharaoh, even though he ascended to the Throne quite some time ago now -had it really been this long since his father had died?-, but their friendship hadn't changed, fortunately. She'd been all willing to listen to him as he always offered her a shoulder to cry on- friends did that for each other.
A small gasp escaped her as she hadn't noticed Mahaado coming to stand next to her.
"We really should work on your attention span," he commented dryly, causing her to blush even more furious. Why couldn't there a day go by where she wouldn't disappoint him? He was her teacher, she was so privileged to receive his lessons and... attention... she thought her whole body was on fire, the way her cheeks were coloring right now. Mana quickly grabbed the first papyri, trying to read her teacher's perfectly neat handwriting.
"Are we going to do destructive spells today?"
"Destructive-defensive," he corrected her. "You have quite powerful heka, but you need to get perfect control over it. We can not have any outbursts of uncontrolled magic in the Palace, and destructive-defensive spells are very handy in battle. I do not condone the use of heka for mindless violence, but I will teach you how to use it against any attacker or threat."
Mana beamed up at him. "Are those the same spells you'd use to protect the Prince?"
"Pharaoh, Mana, the Pharaoh," he corrected, a hint of amusement audible. "Yes, these are the same kind of spells I would use to protect him, you, and anyone from an attack or a threat."
"Thank you, teacher!" She smiled at him, her fingers tapping at the scroll. "I better read this carefully first!"
"Please do, and after you are finished, we will go outside and practice. I do not wish for you to turn my room into a ruin, should a spell go wrong."
Face flushed, Mana focused her attention on the spell. She tried so hard, she really did! It wasn't her mistake that she had to try a few times first before she mastered a new spell or conjuration!
Her eyes latched onto the hieroglyphs, taking the information in. She wanted to have Mahaado's approval, wanted to see the content nod of his head, wanted to hear from him that she'd done well, that he was proud of her... Mahaado's praise was scarce, and she strived to hear it as often as possible. It was frustrating sometimes, as he always seemed to do everything right and perfect at the first try, and she had often to start over again... but even if she had to, he'd be there, encouraging her, never giving up on her, showing it to her again and again if need be.
She knew very well the leeway she was given- after all, she and Mahaado were the Pharaoh's closest friends, and she knew of other apprentices who were given much more punishment or work than her. It made her feel guilty, and as soon as she was a Priestess, she'd immediately change that situation, and..!
"Mana," her name was called, determined but soft.
The girl's eyes shot wide open, gasping loudly as she noticed that his hand was on hers, or rather, on her wrist.
"Mana, you really have to keep focused," Mahaado said, and she realized she'd been already conjuring the spell while reading the document, her mind trailing off while her heka was at work. He was simply keeping his hand on hers to prevent her from elaborating the spell- if she would try to conjure it mindlessly; there was no telling what damage she could do.
"Oh... I'm so sorry, teacher..!" She bit her lower lip. Gods, why do I always fail at the worst moment possible? Forcing her heka to die down, dissolving it so it couldn't do any harm, the blush on her face wasn't from the embarrassment of the spell only.
The Sennen Ring he was wearing touched her bare shoulder; he was standing that close to her. He'd stood close to her millions of times before, but this time... it was different. He'd corrected and guided her millions of times before, but this time... it felt different. Mana noticed her breathing hitched a little, and her hand trembled slightly. Not understanding, she snapped her head towards Mahaado, looking at him with uncertainty and confusion in her eyes. She knew he was strong, he was powerful, he was her teacher, and she knew the intensity of his eyes- deep, golden brown eyes, framed by the traditional black kohl... and she was lost.
"Pay attention, apprentice," he repeated, tapping at the paper in front of her. "You are never able to protect our Pharaoh if you keep losing track of your thoughts. If you keep being scatterbrained like this, you will never be quick enough to act with the right spell in whatever the circumstance."
"I'm sorry, so sorry... teacher... I'll keep more focus on it!"
"Thank you," he answered her dryly, an amused smile curling his lips. He finally let go of her wrist, his fingers lingering, and touching a wayward strand of her dark brown hair before he straightened himself, taking a step back- close enough to immediately intervene when the spell would go wrong, far away to allow her some personal space to study... and she mourned the loss of his touch, how the warmth suddenly seemed to seep out of her body and how everything was bland and boring, without him close as he was just seconds ago.
She worked harder than ever, trying to keep herself focused, and willing her attention to not fly away at everything new or different that caught her eye. Studying scrolls and texts was always boring, but she had to learn, had to read them in order to understand more. She wasn't able to see her inner kaa yet and she wanted to know what it was- if only it was as powerful as Mahaado's Magus of Fantasy Illusion! Mana couldn't recall when she'd started to think about him as Mahaado, and not as her teacher. Even though she hurried through the Palace's halls and still bounced from chore to chore, she made sure to be on time for his classes. She never, ever wanted to disappoint him again.
She wanted him to touch her again. Mana had briefly considered of allowing a spell to get out of hand if only for his intervention, but decided against it- the risks were too great. She didn't know when her longing for his approval had transcended into a longing for his touch- but it was there, undeniably, and it grew, day by day. The young magician girl couldn't make the distinction between adoration, a crush or love- it was simply love to her, as she'd always been pure and honest in her emotions, and wasn't mature enough to see the implications or consequences.
She was rapidly getting used to Mahaado's distant demeanor when they were outside, on the Palace's courtyard, and how he was behaving more at ease when they were in his room. One day, he just started to return the touches, the shy, modest and silent question for some attention, and Mana was still unable to say anything when he stroke her cheek, his eyes warm and brilliant, his attention focused on her.
Did she ever realize the fragile bond between teacher and apprentice, the social and personal opinion towards it? It was hard for Mana to see him as her teacher, even though she refered to him with that title; not many called him by his first name, only the other Priests and Item holders and even they tacked his honory title to it. There was only one who called him Mahaado; the Pharaoh only.
He'd always been Mahaado to her- her friend, her tutor, her teacher, her... once she thought of him as a brother, but now she was starting to think different of him. He touched her arms, stroked her cheeks or traced the outlines of her face, her lips- it never failed to make her shiver, and it never failed to make her long for more. His touches were soft, gentle, caressing- and were crossing the line between teacher and student, but strengthening the bond between friends.
She wanted to part her lips and to be kissed; she wanted to feel how it was, when those feelings were answered by more physical intimacy. It was exciting, it was all-encompassing, it was overwhelming. Mana was never late for a lesson anymore- the guards gave her quizzical looks as she darted through the halls long before her lesson would start. She'd be with Mahaado, holding hands, laughing at him, feeling at ease, and trying to coax a kiss out of him. He would ruffle her hair a little, smile at her, really smile, and hold her before he would remind her of her lesson. It was like life singing to her, coloring every new morning with happiness and comfort, and there was no dark cloud in sight.
... and then he died.
Priestess Aishizu wasn't the person to run; she always walked at a very dignified, slow pace- but today she had to run after an angry ball of energy, whirling through the wide and large hallways of the Palace, without looking up or behind her. Mana was crying, flailing with her arms, hands clenched into her fists as if she wanted to hit someone, and she barely saw where she was going. Aishizu had a very good idea to who the magician girl was going to, crying and yelling in all her disbelief and helplessness. She had taken the death of her teacher and friend so very hard, and these outbursts had become regular these last few days, ever since Mahaado had died, binding his soul to his kaa and turning himself into an eternal servant, just as he promised his Pharaoh.
"Mana! Mana, calm down!"
"Where is he! Where is he!!"
Mana rounded the corner, almost bumping into Priest Karim and she yelled at him to get out of the way. Rubbing furiously at her eyes, she finally recognized him- he was one of the Pharaoh's most trusted advisors, so where he was... the Pharaoh wasn't far behind. Mana turned around, seeing her friend standing a little to the side, not only weighed down by the obligations and duties of his position, but also by the burden and responsibilities of Mahaado's death.
"Your highness," she muttered, and she failed to notice his cringe. He wasn't used to her addressing him so formally, but always with the cheerful "Prince" title, or a wave with her hand or a bright smile, intended only for him.
"Yes, Mana?" he said, sounding weary and tired.
"Please call him," she whispered, her eyes not on him, but on the floor, while she tangled her fingers together. "Please... you can call the spirits from the stone slabs... please, I want to see my teacher."
"Mana," Karim spoke, his voice rumbling but compassionate, "it is too early..."
"Mahaado's soul was wounded in battle," Aishizu said, finally having caught up. "Please Mana, we better let him rest."
"Call him," Mana said, her voice less pleading. "I want to see my teacher!"
"Mana, you can not see spirits yet, as your heka is not strong enough," Aishizu scolded her gently. "You have to train harder and follow into his footsteps, and then you will be able to see him."
She cried. Tears streamed over her face, but she didn't make a sound. If only I had been strong enough! If only I had paid attention and worked hard and mastered that spell, so I could've saved him! Shaking, she refused to see the others' grief and sadness about the loss of their friend. He'd been more special to her, and if he'd still been alive, they... they would've ended up together, loving each other, and she'd be safe and warm and comforted her whole life, and now everything had been stolen from her. The touches, the kiss... before she could even have tasted it, it'd been stolen from her.
Her tear-filled eyes were blurry, yet she focused on the Pharaoh. "Call him! It's your entire fault! Call him!"
"Mana!" Aishizu cried, aghast. "How dare you accuse the Pharaoh like that? If you really want to blame someone for Mahaado's death, blame the thief that took his life!"
"He died in your service!" Mana rubbed again at her eyes, but the tears kept flowing. "It's your fault! If you hadn't been the Pharaoh, Mahaado would still be here, and he still would teach me, and..."
There was a silence, and Aishizu gently put her hands on the magician's shoulders. "Shhh..."
"Yes, he died in my service," the Pharaoh finally spoke. "I lost my friend too, Mana. I am grateful for having known him, and I still know him- he is here, in my heart, forever. It was too soon that we lost him- if there was anything I could have done, I would have, Mana."
She bawled. "I know... I know! I just want to see him... I want to see him!"
Karim exchanged looks with Aishizu, and the Priestess leaned a little into the young girl.
"Mana, why don't you go back to your room and rest up a little... get a little refreshed for dinner?"
"I'm not hungry," she protested, her arms dangling limp next to her body, the salty tears dripping from her chin. Aishizu shifted a little to put her arm around Mana, using her other hand to dab at the tears, her perfumed little handkerchief gently stroking her cheeks. No one else but Mahaado had touched her there before. His touch had been gentle but a little possessive, and she knew that it was his silent confirmation, his silent approval of her liking him, loving him, and they would've been together, they would've kissed if it weren't for all of this!
"Leave me alone!" She threw off Aishizu's embrace and ran- ran away from everything and left it all behind- that what she believed in, that what she hoped for, and that what she had longed for.
... and then the Pharaoh died, and with him went her last tie to Mahaado, her teacher, her friend, the man she dreamt of, the man she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.
Dead. Gone.
Pharaoh Set had taken his place. So many lives were taken in the battle against Zorc, so many sacrifices for a fragile peace and a great price for justice. The new Pharaoh was different and distant- she never liked Set much anyway. She knew she didn't share the same bond with him as she'd done with the former Pharaoh. The ultimate price had been paid- Set was the only survivor of the Priests and Item holders. Aishizu. Karim. Akunadin. Shaadah. All gone. Mahaado. Pharaoh. Gone.
So many tears, and she didn't know why she was still pledging them. Tears came easy, even though they dried up pretty fast, as if there was nothing left in her to pledge them. Mana shivered from the cold; it was mid-summer, but she'd always been cold, ever since the day Mahaado died. She missed him, but nobody really understood. They thought she was mourning for her friend and teacher, for her friend and Pharaoh, and she was ashamed to admit that she was thinking more of the one than the other. She missed him so much. People would look at her with that strange mixture of false pity and slight disdain in their eyes- hadn't the new Pharaoh told them all to keep their heads up and start rebuilding, not grieving for the past but looking towards a new tomorrow?
Why should she look towards a new tomorrow, when tomorrow would be the same- without Mahaado, without the Pharaoh, without the warm touches, without the sun shining in her life? The days were all the same to her, and even though she had managed to increase her heka and see her spirit kaa, it was still the same. Nobody called forth the spirit of her master, and the Pharaoh was gone. Nothing tied her to the Palace anymore, and she wasn't feeling at ease at the Palace anymore.
Mana felt out of place; not only was there no one who could teach her anything about heka as Mahaado had been the most proficient one, but also because she lost the two people she cared about most. She helped with the rebuilding of the city, the reconstruction of the Palace, she met the new Priests and even a new Priestess- absolutely not the same as Aishizu, but she was kind and did her best to connect to Mana.
The magician girl wasn't interested in friendship with the Priestess. She wasn't interested in the court anymore. She had herited Mahaado's enormous library, and she was searching frantically for that one spell. That one spell that could be used only once, that one spell only the greatest and most powerful spirit sorcerers could cast. The binding of the soul with the kaa. It didn't matter to her that she was searching so frantically that she forgot the time, forgot to eat, forgot to sleep.
She didn't care that people referred to her as that 'strange little magic girl' as if she didn't have a name anymore. She lost all personality in front of them, unable to deal with her loss, holding onto her hope of seeing him again. She was going to become one of the greatest spirit sorcerers, if only to cast that spell!
You have been called.
She crowed in delight. Recognizing the neat handwriting of her master, her eyes flew over the description of the spell, drowning in the hieroglyphs.
You are needed.
Was she a coward? Wasn't this running away? The Kingdom was at peace, Set was a strong ruler, and he had his own Court of Priests. She wasn't needed. He didn't care- simply because he was too occupied with too many things, and that silly little magician girl she was to him had never been any priority of his.
I need you.
His voice. His eyes. His mouth. For everything that had been stolen from her, of everything she had been promised but never received. For the dream she was chasing even if it would turn out to be a nightmare. Her lips were moving, reciting the words.
Mana.
The glow intensified. Would they find her? Would they mourn, would they grief? She didn't know. Her guilt was tucked away in her heart. Maybe they'd be simply glad she was gone, glad that she couldn't cause trouble anymore. It was too late now to feel guilt or remorse anyway. The spell had been put in motion and it was too late... too late for everything but love, concentrating in her heart, reaching out for the one she loved. She'd find him, wherever he was, no limits, no boundaries... and she would take him in her arms and comfort him, souls uniting where bodies didn't exist, and they'd be happy.
She cried out, tears in her eyes. No more tears of sadness. Here. There must be something here. Could she explain what she was feeling but pain, when her soul was torn out of her, her inner kaa waiting to be bonded? The pain was nothing, completely overshadowed by the joy and happiness of her successfully conjuring the spell without one problem. Tear me apart and break me down, shatter me and scatter me, but my soul will find you, wherever you are. Make me whole again... my teacher. My soul will be your eternal servant.
-------------------
"... summon Dark Magician Girl!"
What? She was startled out of her... what? Her state? A coma, sleep? She opened her eyes and had to close them again because of the blinding light, and something was tugging at her. She tried to speak, tried to protest- what was going on? The familiar voice caught her attention. Mana shivered as cold suddenly wrapped itself around her, and she wanted to hug herself; but found she couldn't.
"End of turn."
She blinked. She was standing on... some kind of field and it was cold and dark. Mana didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Laughing because she was alive, at least some sort of alive, or crying because she didn't know where she was. There was nothing familiar about her surroundings, and she glanced over her shoulder. Someone was standing behind her, a concentrated look on his face. Gasping, she wanted to call out to him- it was the Pharaoh! Her friend! She could clearly see him, though he looked different without his tan and his usual abundance of gold- in fact, he looked rather pale, and was dressed in some light blue garments she didn't recognize. What's going on?
Mana found that she couldn't speak, couldn't even move her mouth, and couldn't even reach for him. Nothing on his face showed any signs of recognition of her, and her initial rejoice was fading away into desperation. She didn't know what was going on, didn't know where she was... but where the Pharaoh was, there was Mahaado too, right? He had to be around here, wherever here was..! Mana looked around her, to the left and then to the right. The Gods had answered her prayers! She wanted to reach for him, to cry out his name. Clad in dark purple armor, a long staff in his hand, arms crossed as he used to do while looking at her, keeping an eye on her whenever she was trying to conjure a spell... Mahaado.
A non-descriptive sound escaped her, and it caught his attention- he moved his head towards her, and nodded to her- almost unnoticeable, but it was more than obvious to her.
Teacher!
Apprentice, I knew you would find your way.
It didn't matter to her where she was- she was together with the two most important people in her life, and one of them was the most important. If she could find her way to him, through all these boundaries and limits, she would find a way to touch and talk to him again. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how many barriers there were more left to be taken down. She'd find a way, just like she'd found a way before, and this time her kiss wouldn't be denied, but given in passion and romance, his lips on hers, fierce and determined.
Forevermore.