Author’s note: I don’t know, Viva la Vida always seemed such an appropriate song for Yami B’s storyline…
***Just a puppet on a lonely string, oh who would ever want to be king?***
He lay at the outskirts of the desert, struggling to breathe; his battle with the Pharaoh and the summoning of the Dark One had left him spent. In retrospect he should have understood this was a mistake. His Phoenix had always protected him, he should have heeded her warnings and tears. She had told him that Zorc was treacherous, that he did not care for justice but he had been drunk with power, so much power cursing through his Diabound. Now there was nothing in him to remind the people of the once fearsome Thief King. He was only twenty-five yet he felt his life slipping out of his body.
It was only a matter of time before the shock of the outcome of the battle left everyone and he was found. They would execute him, he knew as much. Closing his eyes Akefia wondered if there would be a chance to see his people before Ammit devoured his heart. Maybe if the gods were merciful he would die before they found him. Warmth enveloped him and he felt like he was soaring at the skies. If that was what dying felt like, he didn’t get what there was to worry about. With a light smile he allowed himself to fall asleep.
When he woke up again he knew instantly that he was most definitely alive. His body still felt like lead from the exhaustion and the heavenly warmth had receded. Forcing his eyes open Akefia took stock of his surroundings. He was back home in Kul Elna. The spirits’ presence was hardly there, exhausted as they were from Zorc draining their hatred. Something moved in the corner of his eyes and he struggled to turn his head to see who was there. A flash of golden eyes greeted him and his mouth tasted bitter with regret. They had parted fighting, why did she save him?
“Because I love you,” she answered the unspoken question. Elena sat next to him and traced a hand over his scar. “That will never change.” He wanted to answer, apologize, tell her that he loved her too with all his soul. He didn’t get the chance.
Elena had hoped that the Pharaoh’s men would fear the spirits of Kul Elna and avoid coming to the village. The shouts that suddenly tore through the streets proved her wrong. The blue-eyed priest charged inside the house they had been living, flanked by two soldiers. Akefia tried to stand, summon Diabound, anything to protect Elena. He had no strength left. It all happened in an instant.
One of the soldiers saw him move and, fearing that he was about to fight, threw a knife. The weapon arched through the air and started falling, a graceful arc that would end in his heart. Elena threw herself at him, taking the knife for him. Her blood sprayed everyone around, painting her white dress red. She smiled at her love one last time before darkness claimed her. Akefia held her frozen, feeling her heart stop. Her dead face was the last thing he saw before his soul was torn from his body and imprisoned within the Millennium Ring.