Grave Dancer

He only wanted what he could not have. Diamond hard sapphires surveyed the world with the same contempt he held for everything that lived. He was tired of their complaints, their weaknesses, and their pitiful existence. He was annoyed by their constant whining, the sharp intakes of breath and general uselessness. He despised them all.
Because everything he touched fell to dust. The Pharaoh lingered in the corner of his vision, a constant barrier, between him and his ambitions. Just another play-person, below his level of intelect and power. But whenever he tried to look directly at the Pharaoh something got in the way, or he was blinded. He could never understand how one who dealt with the Dark Game could shine so brightly.
And so he watched, but never touched. There were two things in the world that he cared to notice, two things that one could say that he 'loved'; if love was even the word for it (because he loved nothing but power). His dragons, and the Pharaoh. For all his cousin's stupidity and light, he loved the Pharaoh. But he also hated the Pharaoh, the one obstacle in his path, the one thing he wanted to destroy and hold in his hands at the same time. And so he did the one thing he could, he hated. Because loving a person was not an option; he loved power more. All throughout his life he wanted to take something precious from his cousin, because when they were kids and he saw his cousin cry it made something inside of him crack. And he loved to feel that way, bitter and happy and sad and loving and hating at the same time.
Everything he touched crumbled. He wanted to take something away from his cousin, he wanted to hurt him. Because hurting him was easier than loving him, and somewhere along the way he stopped loving him and just hated him.

But things change. High Priest Seth, the most powerful of the Pharaoh's priest stood by his side, but to any casual observer the animosity between the two was obvious. Seth stood with his body angled away from the Pharaoh, blue eyes looking at anything but the Pharaoh, lips set in a harsh smile. The Pharaoh sat with his body towards Seth, leg muscles tense as if he expected his priest to attack him, but wary trust lingered in his eyes and he smiled tiredly.
People change. One of the priests had fallen in a recent Shadow Duel, his body wrapped and prepared, but the Pharaoh wanted this burial to be special. Seth found no significance in the burial itself, knowing the principal, but lacking the empathy. To Seth, the Gods were dead and had been for a long time. To the Pharaoh, they were still there, whispering in his ears.
Sometimes for the better. The Pharaoh wanted a grave dancer, a person to dance for three days for the departed priest. Seth kept his contempt under reign, but the corners of his lips drew back into a sneer. No reasonable dancer would want to dance for three days, and then become sealed into a tomb for the rest of eternity, unmummuified, uncared for. And so the gaurds brought their prisoner, a dancer, a pale skinned dancer with wild eyes. And Seth's heart cracked again.
Sometimes for the worse. Diamond hard sapphires cracked under an emerald gaze. Seth found himself opening sneering, making his hissing comments about the choice of dancer. incompetant. foreign. unsuitable. The Pharaoh looked sad, knowing that his dead priest would not have the best, but no dancer would come forth and he was 'too kind' to force one. And Seth only hated more, because with so many cracks nothing stayed in his heart. He only hated and wanted.
But they change, and time moves on. Seth never spoke to the dancer, only vowed to 'purify the Godless Heathen' for the ceremony. The Pharaoh nodded and left him to it, too tired to aruge, too tired to think about it. By sundown, Seth knew every part of the dancer's body, by moonrise he knew every part of his heart. By the next morning, the dancer knew his heart.
And they move on. It was a beautiful dance, perfect for a fallen priest of the Pharaoh. Seth stayed until the end of the first day, stayed until the last stone had been wedged into place. Even after the stone had been placed in the entry way the High Priest put his ear to the stone and listened, for two days he came to listen. At the end of the second day there was a scrabble on the other side, and at the end of the third a soft cry and a collapse. The grand finale to a priest and a dancer. Another crack ran through his heart.

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Anyway. Whoever has been following my stories... I apologize!
but...
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Chibinightmare at
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