Ishizu cautiously approached the door, a bucket of water in her hands. Two of her father's servants stood at attention, spears relaxed by their sides. They nodded and let her pass, waiting until she was barely in the door to slam it shut.

She set the pail down, quietly plucking the cup from Marik's desk and filling it. Marik was merely a small lump under the covers, a tuft of hair sticking out as if to prove he was still there.

As she started to move away, he rolled over, focusing blearily on his sister.

"I'm sorry," she said, seeing him awake. "I didn't mean to-"

"I wasn't sleeping." Marik interrupted, sitting up. "I've been trying since dinner, but I can't."

Ishizu frowned. "Just close your eyes and try to think of something nice," she said, patting his shoulder kindly. "You'll be asleep before you know it."

"How?" Marik croaked, his lip trembling. "How can I think of good things when I know what will happen at sunrise?"

Ishizu sank down beside him. "I don't know," she murmured. "You're scared, aren't you?"

He nodded, drawing his knees to his chest. "I don't even know what to do," he said, his voice no more than a whimper. "I think about tomorrow and it's like there's nothing afterwards, just darkness..." He buried his face in his knees, his voice continuing muffledly. "I don't want to do this...but father's making me...why? I don't understand why it has to be me..."

"It's the fate you were given, Marik." Ishizu said. "You were born to be this person, the person the gods wanted you to be."

"The the gods must hate me then," Marik snapped back. "Was it something I did?"

Tears dripped onto his sheets and grasped at Ishizu's heart, her gaze softening. "No," she said sadly. "You've done nothing to deserve this." She stared at him in pity, taking in the tiny, frightened figure in front of her. What could you tell a young boy, still very much a child, that would comfort him in the face of so much pain? She held out her arms, coaxing her brother into a hug. He crawled over, burying his face in her shoulder and sobbing silently, unable to do anything more.

Eventually he pulled away, pawing at his eyes as the tears slowed. Ishizu ruffled his hair fondly, a half-hearted smile on her face. "How about I read you some stories? Will that help take your mind off things?"

"May-maybe," Marik hiccuped, clambering off the bed and pulling a book from his desk. "I've been working on this one," he said, holding up a battered copy of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. "Will you?"

"Of course," she said, taking the book and beginning to read aloud. Marik closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself in that cave, surrounded by such riches and treasures. But it soon transformed itself into the tomb that lay beyond his door; the treasure drained away and replaced by hieroglyphs and statues of his ancestors, all staring down at him judgmentally.

"Can we try a different book?" Marik said quietly, staring down at the floor.

Ishizu nodded, browsing the few volumes on his desk and plucking out another story. "How about Treasure Island?"

"I've read that one too many times already," Marik said, frowning at his collection. "I've read all of these a thousand times over."

"Alright then," Ishizu said, thinking carefully. "I'll just tell you some stories then." And she did, reciting every tale she could remember. Of heroes and great evil, of gods and goddesses, of thieves and princesses and treasures and wondrous creatures; the images she spoke to life swirling throughout Marik's mind. He smiled slightly, his imagination taking hold and distracting him. The fear was gone for the moment, but began to return as Ishizu finished the last tale, her voice hoarse.

"I'm not sure I know anymore," she said, taking a sip of water from the pail. "Are you getting any sleepier?"

Marik shook his head, looking down sheepishly at the covers. "Could you...could you tell me a story about our mother?"

Ishizu started. "I don't remember much about her," she said quietly. "I was only seven when she died...but I do remember she was beautiful."

"Really?"

Ishizu nodded. "And she had so much love for all of us, and used to sing us to sleep every night...even to you, before you were born."

Marik flushed. "She did?"

"Of course," she said, smiling. "You were her child, and she loved you from the moment she first knew you were on your way." It wasn't exactly true, Ishizu thought with an internal wince. Marik's birth had been a struggle from the beginning, leaving her mother bedridden, frail and ultimately robbing her of her life. But what Marik was seeking was comfort, not truth...it was better this way. She took another sip, not meeting the young boy's eye's. "Look, the water's almost gone. I'll go get you more," she said quietly, standing. "Wait here, okay?"

"Okay," Marik said quietly, frowning after her. "You'll come back though, right?"

"As quickly as I can," she replied, slipping past the guards. She hurried down the hallway, tears threatening at her eyes. It wasn't fair that her brother had to face these trials unwillingly, nor that she was the one handed the task of trying to comfort him against something so inconsolable. She reached the kitchen and refilled the bucket from the larger jar, biting her lip. Marik would never get to sleep this way, not when she herself was already growing tired. But nor could she leave him, awake and alone all night until the sun rose and the initiation began. She stood and moved to the cupboard, plucking some dried chamomile flowers from a small container. The coals of a small fire remained from dinner, so she held it close, dropping the blossoms into the slowly heating water.

"Please," she whispered as the smell of the simmering flowers curled up towards the stone ceiling. "Let this help." She stirred a little honey into it before running the tea back to Marik's room, being careful not to burn herself in the process. Even before she rounded the corner, she could hear a commotion coming from the chamber. The guards stood impassive as ever, ordered only not to let the boy escape.

"What happened?" She demanded. One of the guards mumbled something about Marik talking to himself, and how the talking had progressed to screaming. She pushed past them once more and opened the door to find her brother at his desk, throwing anything he could find at the wall, pausing every so often at copies of the ancient scriptures and histories.

"Why does it have to be me?" he screamed, tearing the pages from the binding and ripping them in half. "WHY?"

"Marik, stop!" Ishizu set down the tea and scooped him up, hugging his squirming form tightly. "Stop it, just calm down!"

"Why should I?" Marik retorted, trying to wiggle out of her grip. "You don't have to go through the initiation! You won't have to face the knife tomorrow morning, all for some stupid pharaoh!" He broke down, sobbing dryly as he pushed away from his sister. "Why?" he whimpered, his voice small and broken. "Why couldn't you have been born in my place? Why does it have to be me? I don't want to die...It's not fair..."

"No, it's not," Ishizu said, carrying him over and placing him back on the bed. "It's not fair. But you know what? You're brave. Braver than anyone I've ever known. And the gods will smile on you for that. They won't let you die from this."She went over to the bucket, scooping a bit of tea into Marik's cup and handing it to him. "I'll stay with you," she said quietly, sitting down beside him once more. "I'm not letting you face this alone." She watched him slowly drain the cup, holding his hand in hers.

"Thank you," he said, setting the empty drink down and settling back on his pillow. He gazed up at the ceiling, brushing away another tear from his eyes. "What kind of songs did mother used to sing?" he murmured.

"Do you want me to sing one to you?" Marik nodded, the chamomile already beginning to take effect. The fear was already beginning to ebb away as Ishizu closed her eyes, trying to summon the tune from the depths of her memory. Her voice was low as she began to sing.

"Now the moon shines down upon you,

You are safe and softly sleeping,

Little one, that's how you should be,

'Stead of wide awake and weeping."

Marik smiled sadly, his eyes fluttering as his mind fought a losing battle to keep him awake.

"Stop your crying, start your dreaming,

And I'll wipe away your tears,

Little one, that's how you should be,

Guarded safe against your fears."

The boy drooped against the pillow, soothed by the song that swirled around him and the haze of chamomile. In his mind's eye he could see himself at play, free to relax by the banks of the Nile. His smile grew as his hand fell away from Ishizu's, startling her. She gently stood and tucked him in, singing the last verse of the song.

"Let no hurt or harm befall you,

Sleep on soundly through the night

Little one that's how you should be,

Quiet now, let dreams take flight."

Her voice broke, a tear running down her face as Marik's breathing slowed to a normal pace for slumber. In that moment, he was at peace, and Ishizu wasn't about to let anything disrupt that. Nothing that would make the morning come faster.