Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh…

The Silent Egyptian
By Darks Light

…Present time…

The sun was only beginning to rise above the horizon casting a warm golden colour across the Nile and the buildings situated along it banks as it did so. Meanwhile a topless, young, blonde Egyptian boy hurriedly made his way through the inner palace gates, gold armbands glinting in the light of a new morning. It had been a long jog as the pharaoh had rebuilt his palace on an elevated section of the river bank, now it could over look the Nile, the city of Cairo and surrounding land; the young boy found that stairs were a waste of his time and energy. He paused briefly, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath, lean bronze chest rising and falling with each one he made, gold handled dagger still secured safely around his neck.

Tall, elaborately decorated pillars of finely carved stone caste shadows over the floor as the sun's light flowed in though the large windows that looked out over Egypt. The blonde boy reached the entrance he had been searching for, the door guarded by two palace guards who remained superior to him. After hastily stating to them that he had been summoned by the pharaoh himself they stepped aside and allowed him access. The pharaohs' private room was the same gold tinged colour like the rest, though it contained more lavish decorations.

The boy bowed briefly in front of the tri-haired pharaoh sitting in the throne that was stationed in the centre of the room.
"Yugi, go play outside for while,"
The boy heard the pharaoh say, turning his head slightly he watched what he recognised as the pharaohs favourite young partner exit through another door. He had seen Yugi a few times when patrolling the palace and city though they never really talked, Yugi being nearly two years younger and almost under the constant eye of the pharaoh.

"Pharaoh, you summoned me," the blonde stated keenly, responding to the pharaohs indication that he could speak.
"These murders have been going on for nearly eleven years and never has so much progress been made since you were recruited into my legion of guards, but…"
"Pharaoh! You can't be serious… if it's because of my age…it doesn't matter, as you said the most progress was made by me!" the blonde retorted haughtily.
"Malik, your barely 17," the pharaoh commented, as he eyed the young boy who stood before him, "This man has needlessly killed over a hundred Egyptian citizens, some of which were the most highly trained guards I have seen during my reign as pharaoh," he added, fearing the young guard wasn't considering the likeliness that he could die if he accepted the task at hand.
"Pharaoh… this is something I have been training for since I registered to become one of the guards!" Malik replied hotly, his fists clenching slightly in frustration. He needed to be able to do this; if not the few years he had spent training would have been for nothing.

"I see you feel passionately about this, ever since you came here you have trained enthusiastically night and day and I have never asked you why; until now," the pharaoh spoke, looking down at Malik. Malik stiffened slightly, why? Why was he so keen on finding the silent Egyptian who had murdered recklessly for eleven years?
"He' a common enemy, and I seek him for revenge after finding out he killed my parents," Malik lied.

…Six Years Earlier…

It was dark. No lights were lit and the smell of blood seeped through the air like incense as he crept around the corner, the thief in the night, hair shinning silver in the moonlight he used to avoid stepping in the still fresh blood that coated the walls and the tiled floor. Shifting the partially full beige bag on his shoulder he stepped out into the living room spotting the slain body of an Egyptian woman lying on the floor.

He knelt down beside her before removing the few gold necklaces from her neck and the earrings from her ears. There was a 'thud' from upstairs and he stood up and looked around the living room raising an eyebrow and smirking at the smaller figure dead at the other doorway, 'bastard even killed the dog' he thought with a sneer. It wasn't his problem though; robbing the house of someone who was already dead was easier than that of a live family.

A tall shadow appeared on the wall and Bakura glanced over his shoulder at the black-hooded figure that had stepped off of the stairs, a gold medallion on a chain hung from his tanned hand, partially coated in blood that dripped onto the floor; it was a trophy. Bakura followed the figure as it exited the house before skirting around the back and into an alley.
"And where are we going?" Bakura asked suspiciously, as he noticed while he trailed the other 17 year old that they weren't heading back to his companions hiding place, however, like always, there was no answer. Bakura thought nothing of it as he shook his bag slightly; he still had room for more loot.