Offerings to Osiris

Bakura and Marik rode through the desert looking for a new home. They had been living in the open desert for a week. The sandstorms at night threatened their safety and they needed someplace to escape from the intense heat of the sun during the day. Yami’s soldiers pursued them through the desert much of that week. They hardly had any chance to rest as they fled, hoping they would be able to escape.

Khalfani’s rival had agreed to take over the brothel. Bakura and Marik had stayed to help clean up the floors and fix the roof.

Marik placed cloths on front of the windows to allow the girls some privacy and protection against the night cold. Marik also helped to divide Khalfani’s money among the girls equally.

Bakura went out with the girls from the other brothel and bought Khalfani’s girls decent clothing. A doctor was brought in to examine the girls.

When Bakura and Marik left, the place was fixed and the girls well cared for. With the jewels and gold Bakura had left, he bought food and provisions for life in the desert.

Marik watched Bakura intently as he rode. The white-haired teen was quiet, stroking his horse’s mane.

“We’ll find a good home, girl,” Bakura said reassuringly in the horse’s ear.

Marik sighed as he thought of Kesi. She was another loved one of his to die on him. As he watched Bakura ride beside him, he thought that Bakura had escaped Yami’s guards more than once since they knew each other. Each time, Bakura escaped inescapable situations.

As he watched the white-haired teen ride beside him, he watched the white hair flow in the hot sun.

Marik watched as the thin, delicate fingers held onto the reigns of the horse.

Marik shook his head. Was it the desert sun getting to him? Wandering the desert for a week would do that to anyone.

When the sun finally began to set, Bakura suggested they stopped to eat and continue to search until it became completely dark.

Bakura removed a loaf of bread from his bag and broke it in half.

“Marik? Here’s your half.”

Marik’s POV

Bakura handed half of the small loaf to me. He handed it out and when I grabbed onto it, something spread throughout my body. It was like a spark.

But…it was a spark I felt only with Amunet and Kesi. Why would I feel this spark with Bakura?

It must be the desert heat.

Yeah. That’s it. Desert heat.

I took the bread. “Thank you, Itemri.”

Bakura sunk his teeth into the bread hungrily. I didn’t see him eat today. He chose to go without food to save what we carried from Cairo.

We tried to reduce the number of times we had to run into Yami’s guards. There was always the chance we would be caught. The hungrier we were, the more difficult it would be to escape.

I watched him eat. He looked up at me obviously wondering what I was staring at.

“What is it, Ishtar?”

“Umm…nothing.”

I bit into my bread and chewed it. There was something about Bakura I couldn’t quite understand. Why was I still with him? Why was he still with me?

“You see this pyramid in the distance? Tomorrow, I’m going to show you how to break into a tomb.”

“Why do I need to know that? The pharaohs deserve to their peace.”

Bakura brushed the sand from his robe. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but have you realized how many times Pharaoh Yami has tried to kill us? Do you know what he will do to us if we are captured? Do you like your hands connected to your body? What about your head? If we are caught by Yami, Marik, we are dead. D-E-A-D!”

Bakura was right. I knew the punishment for stealing and murder just as he does.

“But what do you have against the dead?”

Bakura took another bite of the bread and swallowed. “I have nothing against the dead. The dead kept me fed and clothed all my life. The dead help keep me alive, Marik. They will keep us alive. I don’t regret doing what I must do to keep food in my stomach and a roof over my head.”

“But, you are pillaging from the tombs of the rich and the pharaohs!”

Bakura rolled his eyes. “The only things the nobles and the pharaohs did for me was bring me misery! My father was a tomb builder. The pharaohs owe my father! But, he was given nothing but a bad back and whips across the spine! My father couldn’t afford to keep me, so my father kicked me out of the house at four years old! I was told to provide food for myself! I was four years old, Ishtar! Pharaoh Yami didn’t help me. He didn’t help my father. So, the dead and the rich owe me! The pharaoh is not all-powerful in my eyes! He’s no better than the snakes which crawl on their bellies!”

He must hate me if I am a noble.

I looked down sadly at my crust of bread. “You must hate me. You know I am of noble blood.”

Bakura sighed. “I do not hate you, Marik. I consider you…..my friend.” He looked down sadly. “You’re the only person in my life I would ever considered calling a friend.”

My breathing stopped. I almost dropped my bread into the sand. “You….You called me your friend?”

Bakura nodded as he grabbed another mouthful of bread. “Yeah. So?” he asked speaking with his mouth open. He can be so crass when he wants to be!

“Why do you call me your friend? You are obviously not attracted to the nobility. So, why me?”

Bakura chuckled. “Well, you haven’t reported me to Anubis

or to Pharaoh Yami, so you’re not an enemy. Besides, Ishtar, I normally travel alone. And as far as your social status is concerned, I haven’t met a noble who could ever learn the art of pick-pocketing like you have. You’re a natural! Then again, that may explain why you are so talented at reaching into people’s pockets undetected. Who better to train to learn the art of thievery than a noble? I think you missed your calling, Ishtar.” Bakura chuckled. “You would have made a great street urchin….like me!”

I took another bite of the bread. Ok. I may have been born of noble birth, but Bakura is right. I learned how to pick pockets easily and quickly. It was fast becoming second nature.

“And,” Bakura added as he finished the rest of his bread, “It gets lonely in the desert. I thought I was happy traveling alone, but…..I wasn’t. It’s nice to share the starry nights with someone. And…” Bakura shrugged. I could tell he was hiding something. “It’s nice to share the starry nights with someone….even if it is with someone who isn’t attracted to you in any way….nor will ever be.”

What?! Did I just hear…….a regret? From Bakura?

“Bakura….I--.”

“No, you don’t have to say anything, Ishtar….sorry….Marik.” Bakura looked at the sunset. It was very nice. The sky looked like it was on fire. “We must go, Marik. We have to find shelter for the night.”

“Bakura?”

Bakura waved his hand. “No, Marik. We have to find somewhere to stay for the night. Yami’s guards are out looking for us, no doubt. We have to keep going or they’ll catch us. I like my hands where they are…connected to my body.”

Bakura mounted his horse and I clutched the rest of my bread to my chest. I would have to eat the rest on my horse.

As we rode, I could tell Bakura was red, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the heat during the day or the fact he was blushing. We had known each other for a year and this was the first time he had every mentioned regret regarding our relationship. I knew he was attracted to men. That alone was enough to put him to death. But I didn’t know he regretted us not being more than friends.

There had been times when I looked at him and found him……attractive, but I was so upset at the loss of my wife and child, that I denied my feelings. When he gave me that kiss on the cheek that night, it felt…….good. But I thought it felt good because it was a comfort kiss. I didn’t realize that kiss may have been something more.

He clutched the reigns in his hands and I could tell he was nervous because of what he revealed as we ate dinner. I was nervous, too, but I was nervous with the thought that I may have a glimmer of attraction to Bakura. Could I be attracted to Bakura as much as I was to Amunet or Kesi?

Maybe it’s the desert heat.

We rode until we saw something in the distance.

“What’s that?” I ask, squinting my eyes against the gathering dusk.

Bakura’s eyes lit up. “THANK YOU, GREAT RA!”

Bakura’s horse bolted fr the object in front of us. Only after we approached it did I clearly see what we were heading towards.

An oasis! Water! Food!

Our horses galloped to the oasis. Once we arrived there, Bakura jumped off his horse and gasped at the lake. Bakura threw himself into the lake, making a big splash.

“Itemri! What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? Come in!”

I jumped down off my horse. “We have to drink that water!”

Bakura kicked his feet and he splashed me!

“What’s the big idea?”

“It’s the desert, genius! Don’t tell me that didn’t feel good! I know it did!”

I folded my arms. “I am NOT swimming in the water we have to drink! That is final!”

Two strong hands grasped onto my robe and I lost my balance. I fell into the lake with a splash!

Bakura laughed as I tried to shake the water from my hair. “ITEMRI!”

Bakura shrugged and submerged himself under the water. I felt him pull on my ankles and I went under the water.

He released me and I emerged from the surface coughing. Bakura climbed onto the shore and shook the water out of his hair like a dog.

“We have to get a fire built,” he said as he gathered sticks and made a campfire.

We made a fire and we both stared into it, lost in our own thoughts. I looked up and saw the stars peek out against the sky one by one. Amunet and I used to watch the stars together. On our wedding night, I took Amunet a good distance away from the settlement for some quiet..and a little privacy.

She told me that night that she wanted me to be happy. You did make me happy, my wife. Amunet and I consummated our marriage under the stars in the middle of the desert. It was fate, I guess, for our child’s life to end in the very sand in which he was created.

I looked over at Bakura, his white hair glowing in the fire’s light. His eyes sparkled as he gazed into the light. His unique white skin looked different by the fire tonight.

I never noticed how different he looked in the firelight.

It can’t be the desert heat! The air is quickly becoming more chilly as the night draws near. If it wasn’t for the fire, we would be huddled up close together.

Oh gods.

Oh no.

No.

Just the thought of that is sending shivers of delight down my spine!

It can’t be.

It can’t be the desert heat.

Can it be….I’m developing feelings for him?

Bakura turned around and reached into the bag for herbs. “I’ll be back, Marik.” He grabbed some sticks and a stick from the fire.
Bakura took the herbs and walked towards the sand. Should I follow him? He must be doing something that requires privacy. Then it hit me: what if Yami’s guards sneak up behind him and slit his throat? I can’t let that happen! I grabbed my dagger and followed him

to the edge of the desert. I saw him in the moonlight on his knees.

He lit the pile of sticks and kneeled before it.

He took a handful of herbs in his hand and sprinkled it on the fire.

“Osiris, I pray to you at the end of the day,

offering to you my day’s actions

on the altar of the fiery sky.”

Bakura lifted his hands above his had and tilting his head back.

“Guardian of the night,

spirits of the darkness, you are my companions.

Though the night’s blackness stands as a wall, you will show me the way through,

My guides through shadows, my protectors from all terrors.”

What was Bakura trying to do?

Bakura bowed before the fire. “Queen Isis, wrap your wings about my family and me and bring us through danger in safety.

Goddess with the enfolding wings,

Wrap them about me, Isis.

Keep fear and danger at bay.”

Bakura was praying for protection from Yami’s guards. I didn’t know Bakura would be spiritual. I never made offerings like he did. Every night Bakura went out, but I never followed him until now.

Bakura lifted himself up to his knees and folded his arms in front of himself like a corpse. “Mau I mount your throne and rest there in peace.” Bakura placed another handful of herbs in the fire and the fire roared louder.

“Fire of offering, you burn the sacrifice,

making it fit for the gods.

Burn away all my weaknesses,

Making me fit for the gods!”

Bakura removed his robe. It wouldn’t have been the first time I saw him naked, but it was the first time I found him desirable physically.

He kneeled before the fire naked.

“Here I kneel before you, Mother Isis and Father Osiris. I kneel before you vulnerable as a newborn child.

Mother Isis, hear my plea.

Send your blessings over me.

Protect me with your watchful eye

From now until the day I die.

Father Osiris, hear my prayer.

Keep away these thoughts of despair.

Osiris, I beg you, Help me start

To heal this tattered, broken heart.”

I watched Bakura whimper as he looked into the fire. The fire made his tears sparkle. Why was he crying? Why didn’t he tell me he was in pain?

Bakura lowered his head. “Help me mend this wounded heart, Osiris. Help me to keep my passions hidden. I dare not say the words my tongue has been burning to say. If I speak, I will lose him. I couldn’t bear that! He would never reciprocate my feelings, my protector. I would rather remove my heart from my chest than to lose Marik. He means too much for me to lose him.”

I kneeled behind the bush shocked. He never told me he felt this way! Bakura, I wouldn’t leave you. I…..I…..why is it hard for me to say what was so easy to say to Amunet and Kesi?

I never said “I love you” to a man before.

“Osiris, I humbly beseech you, please heal me from this heartache I cannot quell. Help me fight my desires. I do not want to lose Marik. Thank you, my protector.”

Bakura stood up and started dismantling the fire. I rushed back to the campsite and drank from the water. He returned to the fire naked and rolled out a blanket on the ground.

“Do you have a blanket to sleep on, Marik?”

I gulped hard. After what I just heard, what do I say?

“Umm…I have a blanket, Bakura.”

Bakura shrugged. “Ok. Good dreams, Marik.”

Bakura put the blanket on the ground and he laid down with his back to me. His body relaxed with a sigh and it wasn’t much longer before he started snoring. I watched his side rise and fall with each breath he took. His back was marked with one long scar. It looked like he had been whipped years ago. The scars were fading. I stood up slowly and walked around to see him.

He drew his knees up to his chest. His arms were crossed against his chest. Bakura lived a hard life in the desert. It’s hard to imagine him at four years old sleeping in the desert alone…no one to tuck him in at night or kiss him before he fell into a deep sleep. I watched him sleep, listening to the sounds of his steady breathing.

I leaned down, hoping to steal a kiss. My face came within an inch of those lips. I hesitated.

I couldn’t do it.

What if I startle him?

What if he doesn’t really love me?

What if what he said was a lie?

I returned to my place and laid a blanket on the ground on the opposite side of the fire. I closed my eyes, welcoming sleep.

I love you, Bakura Itemri.