• Hi, this is KitaxHaku! I am just putting this little note in here to clarify: I am using ‘Young Pharaoh’ as prince (although the correct term is ‘sa nesut’) because it’s easier to write. Please enjoy, and tell me what you think!


    I guess I can be compared to a virus… I am here…but no one notices…until it’s too late.


    A long, long time ago, while the Pharaohs still ruled, a young girl at the age of eight sat cross legged on hot sand quietly. Why was this young girl, of such innocent beauty, wasted in rags? No one knew why, and since they were unable to understand, ignored the angel who was quietly dying in the land of the Egyptians.

    “Father, I do not understand why she is there.”

    Through the heat, the girl slowly lifted her head to find the owner of the young but deep voice. “You say our people are happy, do you not? Then why does she not smile?” There were gasps and chuckles towards the boy.

    “Such sensibleness from a prince of only eleven years!” A woman called.

    “Indeed, he is true royalty!” A man cheered from the back of the group.

    The little girl lifted a hand over her eyes, peering over to the group to see who the prince was. Ah, she saw him now. Spiky blonde hair highlighted with red; crimson eyes that sparkled happily to the praise.

    The sparkling eyes irritated the little girl. How could he so easily forget about her situation? Did his happiness erase hers?

    “Oh, indeed, young Pharaoh…you are sensible and wise…but you lack the thing of most importance…” The girl said, at first in a whisper but then in a raspy shout, “A heart! Your father and you both! May the pyramids of your ancestors fall upon your bodies and souls!” The group around the Pharaoh and his son gasped in shock and resentment to the little girl who spit at her rulers’ feet. As she finished screaming, she tilted her head back and let a tear roll down quietly. “Look at what you have made me become…just a miserable child…my parents died building your stupid pyramid…Pharaoh…” Closing her eyes, she tilted her head and relaxed her body, only letting her eyes work to push out her tears, which dried before they even reached her chin.

    The young Pharaoh looked at her sadly before his father quickly raised his hand, commanding the guards to bring the girl with them.

    “She must be taught a lesson,” His father preached, “for she does not seem to realize that we are the ones who yell and shout at her.” The young Pharaoh quickly raced up to his father’s side.

    “Father, I do not understand. Isn’t she only a child? Shouldn’t we thus forgive her recklessness?” He asked quickly. His father patted his head, smiling.

    “She is different than you, young Pharaoh Yami.” With that, the Pharaoh and his group moved forward, the crowd separating as he marched forward. Young Yami shook his head; this was not right, no matter how many times he looked at it…


    “Are you thirsty? Here, have some water.” The sarcastic voice of one of the guards said. The little girl was dunked once again into the water by a large hand pushing down her head. Struggling for air, the girl tried to fight the hand, most of the time failing due to her incapability to swim. As she felt faint and stopped fighting, the large hand easily gripped her head and pulled her out, only to drop her inconsiderately on the stone floor. “Pathetic.” The man said, walking over to the table where his fellow guards chuckled at the sight. “I don’t have to do it next, now. Whose turn is it?” He asked, tearing a piece of bread with his teeth while huffing stubbornly.

    “Look lively, guards.” Another guard quickly called out while running into the room, “Young Pharaoh Yami is coming.” The guards quickly ran around the torture room, removing any bloody spots or torn limbs from sight. Unfortunately, just as the prince entered, they realized they had forgotten the young girl who was lying on the ground, coughing up water still. The Egyptian prince stood in the entrance of the door, immediately noticing the girl, and raced over, he helped her sit up and wiped her wet hair out of her face. She looked up at the prince with a dazed expression, too weak to say anything. But she gathered her strength, squeezing his hand in hers. Calming her down, he lied her small head on his chest, and turned his head to the guards, who quickly stood in order.

    “Bring her to my room.” Yami commanded, “Call the doctors as well.” The guards nervously fidgeted, not moving.

    “B-but Young Pharaoh, if we do that…we will be punished…” One muttered under his breath.

    “Then when you are threatened, I will stop my father from doing so.” He said simply, snapping his fingers. “Now, pick her up and take her. Ah, and also bring food and a change of clothes for her.” Three guards bowed and quickly marched out of the room while the other picked up the girl from Yami’s arms. Yami slowly stood up, quickly following in the guards steps.


    Sitting up with a start, the girl looked around her, seeing silk drapes around her, the smell of essence burning floating calmly through the large room. Instead of rags now, she noticed, she was dressed in a long, white dress. Her hair had been combed as well, and the long flowing hair was now silky soft, like the silk comforter that warmed her body. A large gold cup sat beside her, full of water, and on the other side was a bowl full of fresh fruit. Seeing these things for the first time, she quickly grabbed the cup of water and chugged it down quickly before taking an apple and feasting on its fresh flesh. But as she did, the drapes around her separated, and the young Pharaoh walked in, causing her to nearly choke on the apple. As Yami quickly walked up and patted her back, a servant brought another cup of water for her. She drank it quickly before lowering the cup and sighing, catching her breath. The servant giggled, and the girl noticed that she was the pharaoh’s age as well.

    “Young Pharaoh, she is adorable! Why was she in the dungeon?” The small maid questioned, only to be lightly shooed away by other servants. Once the girl regained her posture, she quickly slid to the other side of the bed, realizing that she was being touched still by the prince. As he blinked, and then lowered his eyebrows, the girl shook in the corner before quickly bowing to the young boy.

    “I…I apologize…” She whispered, “I was wrong to have spoken so wrongly, my dear Pharaoh…please forgive me…do not hurt me anymore…” She grabbed the silk blanket in her small hands, gritting her teeth while trembling.

    She didn’t believe she was at fault…but there was one thing she was sure of; she never wanted to be in that torture room again. She was merely a child; how was she to have known that speaking the truth was the same as giving yourself the death penalty? That was the thing; she didn’t know. She was an eight year old girl! But she swallowed her pride; she knew when she had lost.

    The girl stayed in her position, refusing to sit up until the Pharaoh made his decision. But there was only a small sigh from the other side. Slowly, she raised her head to see the Pharaoh smiling gently.

    “Do not worry, I will not let them hurt you anymore.” Her head snapped up as he said this, and she slowly sat up straight. He reached his hand out to her, smiling. “Come.” Slowly, she lifted her hand, and began to crawl over to him. She paused many times on the large bed, hesitating, but not once did he yell at her; he only kept his smile and eyes on her.

    When her hand touched his, the girl seemed to melt. Her face suddenly flushed as she realized that this prince was a true Pharaoh, a true son of the sun god.

    “Holy Son of Ra, the Sun God! Forgive my worthless form!” She praised, letting her head swing in a bow as she held his hands tightly in hers. “May you live a thousand years more! Holy Son of Ra!” She repeated again and again, bowing until she felt dizzy, and her voice almost gone. The Pharaoh gently tapped her head before bringing his hand up to cover his chuckling.

    “Do not praise me so much!” He lowered his hand from his chin, and placed it over hers, “You are weak, sleep.” She obeyed his command, and slowly laid under the covers before quickly falling asleep. After Yami successfully slipped her hand under the blanket without waking her, his father burst in the room, furious.

    “Yami!” He yelled. Expecting his, Yami calmly stood up from the sleeping girl’s side, and walked over to his father, stepping from under the drapes. “How dare you disobey me!” The Pharaoh bellowed, spotting his son. “That insolent child! Where is she?” He asked, stomping his foot. Yami played dumb, also angry.

    “I know not of what you speak about, father! I only know that there was an innocent child being dunked in seven feet of freezing water! I only know that what was happening to this girl was not right, father!” The Pharaoh raised his hand to slap his son, but after noticing that he did not flinch, the Pharaoh lowered his hand, staring into the crimson eyes of his son.

    “Tell me, son,” His father said curiously, “why is it that you feel sorry for this peasant?” Yami blinked, and then frowned.

    “Why should I not care? She is one of our people. It is a Pharaoh’s duty to protect them.” Yami wisely declared. His father, still frowning, said nothing for a number of minutes. Yami did the same. The two stood, playing a stand up game of chicken; who would back down first, father or son?

    The father broke down, and began a fit of chuckles. Yami blinked, confused on why he now laughed. After finally recovering, his father looked at his son before patting his head.

    “You will make a great Pharaoh, my son.” He said, smiling down at Yami. Yami’s face lit up in joy, and he gratefully returned the smile to his father. Once the moment ended, both of them walked over to the girl’s side. She was still in a deep sleep, and her straight black hair flowed gently on the bed, helping reveal her luscious tan skin. The king stroked her hair gently before looking at his son.

    “…I will give her a job in the palace. Will that satisfy you?” He asked, turning from the bed side. Yami nodded quickly, smiling joyously.

    “T…thank you father!” Yami stuttered in joy. His father left, and Yami returned to the girl’s side. He too now admired her long, flowing hair. How he wished he could also admire her rare large, blue eyes as well. Not long after he wished for it, she began to stir, the previous noise now affecting her sleep. Yami leaned in quickly, excited. She revealed her eyes for a small moment, and then closed her eyes once more before opening them finally to look at Yami. She seemed as tired as before; her gaze seemed hazed by Yami’s face. To help her clarify that a dream it was not, Yami took her hand in his and smiled. “Good morning, young one.” The girl’s face looked at him, the fog slowly clearing from her mind and eyes. Once it finally disappeared, she smiled happily to the young prince.

    “Good morning...Young Pharaoh.” She said, whispering due to her still sore throat. The Young Pharaoh smiled down at her, shining brightly.

    “Tell me, what is your name?” He asked. She frowned at this, and turned her head away. He blinked as she did so. “What is wrong?”

    “Young Pharaoh, my parents gave me a name, like any other mother and father would…but they died the only ones knowing it. I have no memory of what they called me, and no one else cares for me.” The girl sighed, looking back up at Yami, “Alas, I have no name now, my God.” Yami looked at her in concern, and leaned forward lightly.

    “Then…what should I call you?” He asked in confusion. The girl smiled at him brightly.

    “Whatever you wish.” She said, causing him to think. He stood up straight, and two servants brought a chair behind him, letting his feet rest as he thought. Finally, he looked back down at the girl, who was turning red in a nervous fit.

    “Very well, I have one.” He said, causing her to jump, “How about Maat?” She stared at Yami, ready to die. Maat? Really? That was a goddess’s name; Maat, the goddess of justice and truth! She couldn’t have a name of that great of a status!

    “Y-young Pharaoh! I cannot uphold such a name!” She explained, shooting up to lean close to his surprised face. “It is as if saying that Maat the goddess is a rag used to clean my Pharaoh’s dungeon floor!” Yami blinked at the girl who realized how close she was to his face, and cowered back in apology. “I…I am not worthy, Young Pharaoh…so…please choose another name.” She asked one last time. Yami chuckled at her before responding.

    “I think it is perfect, for you do not deserve a name that is equal to a rag, either, Maat.” Yami declared, raising an eyebrow to see if she would argue any further. But she stayed silent, and looked at Yami with her large blue eyes before bowing her head.

    “…As you wish,” She looked up to him with a large, playful grin on her face, “Young Pharaoh.”


    Two years later…


    “Hey! Stop running in the halls, servant!” A guard called in an irritated voice. The ten year old girl twirled in a long white dress, her black single-braided hair swinging lightly through the air. She skidded to a stop, and apologized quickly, burrowing her eyebrows into her full eyelashes.

    “I’m sorry! The Young Pharaoh is calling for me!” She said, quickly turning and continuing to run. The guard sighed, scratching his head.

    “She’s always pulling that card on me…but only the Sun God Ra knows how truthfully she speaks…” He chuckled to himself before shaking his head, and returning to his post. Indeed, that girl, since she had come to the palace, had only run errands for the Egyptian prince. For two whole years, this is what she did every day, and not once did she complain.

    “Young Pharaoh!” She chimed, stepping into the thirteen year olds large room. Looking up, Yami covered his face as a large group of birds suddenly flew out of the room. He sighed, looking at his unfinished drawing, but smiled gently towards the culprit, who was now on the floor, begging for forgiveness. “I-I’m sorry, Young Pharaoh!” She said, refusing to even look up, “I did not mean to interrupt your art!” The Pharaoh’s son only looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, sighing.

    “Oh stop acting so dramatically! It is alright, it was an accident, after all.” Yami breathed out, putting his ink feather down and walking over to her. “Stand up, Maat. You should know by now that I hate you apologizing like a slave.” As Yami finished his scold, Maat looked up at him nervously.

    “…I AM a slave, Young Pharaoh…” She said. Yami blinked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow before responding.

    “No, you’re a servant!”

    “…same thing…” She whispered before standing up. Yami puffed his cheeks, unsatisfied.

    “They are not the same!” He snapped. Maat smiled falsely towards him, a little agitated; he had no idea, he was the prince.

    “Whatever you say, Young Pharaoh…” Maat, remembering why she had really been summoned, held out her hand, waiting for the prince to take the object out of her hand. “Your brooc—” Yami quickly covered Maat’s mouth, looking at the curious servants with a nervous smile.

    “M-Maat! Don’t be so loud!” Yami joked as he eyed her, “You know that brooks are dangerous, and forbidden to go near!” Maat tried not to roll her young eyes; even a ten year old could come up with a better excuse…she would know, she was ten!

    “Yes, yes, I apologize.” She said, waving her hand in the air. She was getting very agitated with his rudeness. She wondered if it were the hormones…

    “Thanks, Maat.” Yami whispered, taking the brooch from her small hands. All of Maat’s anger melted away quietly as Yami smiled at her; she was so glad that he had found her two years ago.

    “Yes, Young Pharaoh…” She responded before Yami happily asked her to go play with him. After a quick nod, the young pharaoh quickly hid the brooch in his drawer, and took Maat’s hand in his, commencing their play date. But Maat looked back towards the drawer where his mother’s brooch was now hidden; what did he want it for? He never told her.


    Three years later…


    Maat sat on a tall stool, her fingernails digging deeply into the rolls of her skirt. Pulling her hand up slowly, she found the soft black hair that rested on her head. Gripping a strand of it, she quickly brought her other hand up, and stroked the hair continuously until a woman came from behind her, and slapped her hand away.

    “Don’t touch your hair so much, Maat!” She scolded, pulling out scissors. Maat jumped, entertaining her hands by returning them to her lap and scraping her nails against the rolls of her skirt once again. The older woman rolled her eyes, and looked down at Maat’s hair.

    “You haven’t cut your hair, ever, have you?” Indeed, Maat long hair now reached down to her ankles, and had become quite the hassle; the only reason she had kept it long was because the young Pharaoh adored it, so she didn’t mind; but now, things were getting difficult. There was a sacrifice today, and she was ordered to either sacrifice her hair…or a child. The answer was obvious. Maat sighed, leaning her elbow on her knee as the old woman fondled her hair. “Don’t worry, sweet child.” The woman said, pulling out the cutting knife, “You’re hair will grow to this length again in less than a year!” But Maat only sighed in reply, and kept her head down as the cutting began.


    “Where is Maat?” Yami asked with a sigh, sitting on his balcony with his new advisor, Joey. Joey, in reply, sighed heavily as well.

    “Aren’t you a bit old to have a play mate, young Pharaoh?” He asked, looking up from his scripture. “Tristan and I have been wondering why you always want her around; all you seem to do is argue now-a-days.” Yami sighed, looking up at Joey with a bored expression.

    “We don’t argue, we simply debate about things.” He countered. Joey chuckled, and looked at him with his eyebrow raised.

    “Is that how you see it? She’s always complaining to Tea, saying that you are always trying to prove her wrong!” Yami sat up to this comment, and frowned. His teenage years were catching up; he was going through the puberty stage where he HAD to be right.

    “S-she really says that?” Yami asked. Joey, noticing Tristan walking by, called for him to come in.

    “Hey Tristan, doesn’t Maat always talk to Tea about the Young Pharaoh?” Joey asked as the military general walked up. Grinning, he nodded.

    “All the time!” Unfortunately, Yami misunderstood Tristan (who meant romantically), and became troubled at the thought that a woman looked down on him. Yami plopped back down in his seat, and leaned his head on his hand with an irritated sigh. As Tristan blinked, Joey looked at the prince nervously; noticing that it was his doing that had made Yami feel angry. Yami growled to himself as he watched some women watering the garden, and found himself more and more angry. But then, he noticed a girl. Yami jumped from his seat, and leaned over the railing to call to her. Could it be?!

    “M-Maat?!” He yelled. Joey and Tristan joined him at his sides, and looked down to see a girl with short black hair walking by. “Maat, is that you?” The three gasped; it was Maat! She, who had been walking in a daze, quickly looked up to see them, and covered her head with a scarf before running. “Maat, wait!” Yami attempted to jump over the railing, but his two friends held him from doing so.

    “T-this is the third floor, Yami!” Joey yelled as he still struggled. “Go by the stairs! She can’t leave the palace, after all!” Gritting his teeth, Yami quickly ran out of the room, leaving two confused boys. What was wrong with the Young Pharaoh’s head?

    Yami ran down the corridors, and sprinted out towards the garden.

    “Maat!” He called, seeing her running up ahead. She jumped, turning her head, and seemed to struggle in deciding on what to do. In the end, she found herself still standing there when Yami caught up. “Maat! Take off that scarf!” He commanded, out of breath. “Let me see what you’ve done to your hair!” Maat looked at him nervously, unable to move.

    “Y-young Pharaoh…you don’t understand…”

    “I said take it off!” He screamed, causing Maat to flinch before frowning. Throwing the scarf down, she stood up straight, and let Yami see her short bob. “Why did you do this to your hair? I told you to never cut it!” He yelled. Maat huffed, and stomped her foot.

    “I haven’t even explained myself to you, and you’re already treating me like a criminal!” She screamed in rage. Yami, remembering Tristan and Joey’s words, only became angrier. “You are always doing things like this now--”

    “Maat! Watch your tongue!” He yelled, his fists tightening. Maat, who was now glaring at the young prince, turned away from him, and stalked away in silence. “Where are you going?!” Yami asked, a little disturbed by her unusual silence. She only turned to him, her eyes showing pure irritation.

    “Young Master, I only do as you say.” She hissed quietly before bowing and taking her leave. “I shall watch my tongue.” With that, she turned her head and left the Young Pharaoh to figure things out for himself.

    Yami’s brain seemed to finally be working now that it was too late to take things back. What if she had a good reason? What if she was going to do something horrible to herself now? Yami held his head in his hands before looking up, and searching the area for Maat, only to see nothing and nobody. He mentally cursed puberty, forgetting all of the ridiculous things Joey and Tristan had said; Maat had been by his side for five years, while Joey and Tristan had been there only for two. Such a fool he was!


    “…” Two girls were in a room, one leaning on a bed, watching the other stick her tongue out in the mirror. It had been two hours since the short haired girl had come in randomly with her tongue out, and a mirror in her hand. The curious Tea asked Maat why. “Why on Earth do you have your tongue sticking out like that, Maat?” She finally questioned, flipping some of her chestnut brown hair over her shoulder. “Isn’t it getting dry?” She joked. But Maat didn’t move, and only nodded before responding.

    “The Young Pharaoh asked me to watch my tongue…I shall not disobey my prince’s request…” She said, her tongue still out. But soon it became unbearable, and she sighed in frustration before pulling her tongue back inside her mouth, and then slamming the hand mirror on the ground in anger. “I don’t understand why he had to be so rude! I have said nothing unusual, and even if he was angry about my hair, he could have listened!” She said, her eyes watering quickly. She was only able to stand for another moment before she fell to the ground, weeping. Tea quickly took her in her arms as she cried. “He yelled at me!” She confessed, “He looked at me with such bent rage…I’ve never received such a glare from him! He must hate me!” She cried before covering her face again. “I should have known better; he is a Pharaoh’s son, and I am but a piece of trash!” Tea stroked her hair gently as the door suddenly opened, revealing Joey and Tristan.

    “Can you come at another time? Maat doesn’t feel well.” Tea said as Maat tried to control herself. Joey and Tristan walked in, bending down.

    “What is wrong?” Joey asked. Tea looked down at Maat, who sat up and faced the two with tears still streaming down her cheeks.

    “T…the Young Pharaoh…I am afraid he hates me…” She said, tears filling her eyes again. “We got into an argument, and he yelled at me…he’s never done this before…and over such a stupid reason like hair!” She cried, burring her face in her hands again. “I-I’m sorry…I need to be alone right now…” She ran into the bathroom after excusing herself, and the three looked after her; two faces were sad, one was nervous. Joey knew this was his doing…and the longer it went on, the worse it’d become. He sighed, ruffling his hair, before sitting down beside Tea and bluntly explaining himself. Once Tea heard the story, not only did she beat him to the ground, but she also shoved a book called ‘Puberty’ in his mouth before kicking him out into the hall.

    “You better straighten things out with Young Pharaoh before Maat comes out of that bathroom! Or else I’ll kill you!” She said in anger, slamming the door. Joey rubbed his head with a sigh before getting up quickly; he knew Tea wasn’t joking, she’d kill him. Running down the hall, he searched for Yami.

    “Young Pharaoh!” Joey called happily, noticing the prince standing outside of the sacrifice chambers. Yami turned to Joey with a guilty face but listened to Joey’s explanation. Though he was angry at Joey with the fiery pits of hell to back him up, he realized that Maat was more important. Sprinting, he made his way to the room.


    “Maat!” He called out, slamming the heavy stone door open. Tea looked up from Maat, who was standing on the balcony in silence, without any movement. Yami’s eyebrows narrowed; what had he done? “M-Maat…I’m sorry--” He began to say before Maat turned to him, and bowed down at his feet.

    “I apologize, Young Pharaoh! I was unable to watch my tongue for so long. Please punish me!” She begged, not lifting her head once. Yami, immediately noticing her sarcasm and anger, bent down to her, and begged for his own forgiveness.

    “Y-Young Pharaoh!” Joey and Tristan gasped, watching the prince of Egypt kneel to a servant. But he only glared at them before bowing his head down.

    “I am the sorry one, Maat. It was stupid of me to yell at you when you were saving one of my people…” Maat’s head jerked up as he said this, but he kept his down. “I shouldn’t have doubted your friendship, either…I am a fool.” Maat, unable to stand the sight of the Son of Ra bowing to trash like herself, quickly stood up, pulling him up as well.

    “I…I forgive you, Young Pharaoh…but please…s-stand up!” She stuttered, having trouble lifting his defiant body. Yami stood up, but kept his head down in shame. “Oh Son of Ra, please do not sadden yourself with such a mere worry.” Maat lied; although she had been torn by his distrust in her, she couldn’t stand the look on his face as he kneeled down on the dirty floor. “Please?” She begged, bowing her head to see his lowered face. He slowly lifted his head up, his face still full of embarrassment.

    “I really am sorry, Maat. What I did was unforgivable.” He said, taking her hand in his. Maat, holding back the fire ready to burst into her cheeks, nodded, slipping her hand out of his.

    “I-I already forgave you, dear Master.” She said with a nervous chuckle before looking away from him. Yami blinked, and tried to make eye contact with her; although he was going through puberty, the only women he had been in contact with were maids and Maat; he didn’t know what ‘no eye contact’ meant.

    “If you forgive me, why won’t you look at me?” He asked, his voice sounding hurt. Maat looked at him for a moment before looking away again, this time her face burning red.

    “I-I can’t, Young Pharaoh…you will be coming of age in less than two years, after all.” She stuttered, reaching for her hair to play with, only to find nothing there. She quickly changed the subject, looking at his beautiful eyes for his satisfaction. “B-but anyway, Young Pharaoh, have you finished the preparations for the gathering tomorrow night?” She asked. Yami blinked, and looked at Joey, who nervously jumped.

    “I-I totally forgot about that…” Joey said nervously, scratching the back of his head. Everyone stared at him, and wondered why he was the advisor. None the less, Tristan sighed and raised his hand.

    “I have informed everyone, and we are on schedule.” He said, relieving everyone. Yami turned to Maat with a smile.

    “I will dance with you first!” He declared happily. Maat turned red, and shook her head viciously.

    “Y-Young Pharaoh! I am a dancer for entertainment! I cannot, and neither can you, be seen dancing together!” She tried to explain. Yami’s face fell as he raised an eyebrow.

    “Are you saying that people would defy me if I were to ask you to dance? Me, the Young Pharaoh?” Maat, in reply to Yami’s confident declaration, lowered her red face to the ground before shaking it slowly. “Okay then. Tea, you have worked for my family so long, I find it only right that you are allowed to dance with the suitors as well. The two of you shall be given dresses after your performance.” With that, Yami took Maat’s hand in his and smiled, gripping it tightly. “It’ll be fine, Maat. Just have fun! That’s all I ask.” He let go of her hand, and walked out, taking the other two men with him. Maat sighed, though, touching her hand lightly; would everything really be alright, she wondered.