Mana spun and twirled lithely, throwing glittering arcs of fine sand up in the wake of her trailing feet. Barefooted, she roamed the sands of the great desert with glee, spinning and jumping with great leaps whenever she pleased. The temperature was just right-as always,-and she enjoyed the feeling of the not-too-hot sand sifting between her toes. The sun was shining brightly, (but not too brightly,) and nothing, down to the tiniest, minute detail, seemed out of place. Everything was absolutely perfect, the same as it had been yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, for as long as she could remember.

She stopped on the bank of the Nile river, plunking herself down with a sigh and splashing her feet in the not-too-cold water. She kicked idly, leaning back on her hands, bobbing her head from side to side and absently humming an off-key tune. After only a moment she sat up straight, swung her arms around dramatically, put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands and gave a rather exaggerated yawn.

"Perfection sure is boring!" She declared, to no one in particular. She continued to hum a note of the hymn she had stuck in her head, bored, when the blessed light of an entertaining idea came to her. She felt the sudden urge to practice her magic, just once, despite not having an immediate need to. She had not felt the need to even touch her wand since coming here, and though she supposed that was a good thing in some ways, in others she felt as though she was missing a part of her identity without it. So she decided to practice, for no reason at all really except to escape the growing boredom.

She hopped to her feet excitedly and held out her hand casually, mentally reaching into the void between the realms and calling forth her wand. She half expected that it wouldn't work, the void was a layer of nothing in between here and the other worlds after all, and she wasn't sure if she could still reach into it from this place. Thus, her trill of excitement was that much greater when the familiar shape of her best (and only) wand materialized and then solidified in her hand with a subtle flash of pink light.

"Yes!" She shouted in victory, elated, and immediately pointed her wand straight at the ground.

"Grant me the strength of a giant hand, to help me draw pictures in the sand!" Mana chanted happily, and began to trace her wand slowly in midair. To her delight, the motions were etched into the sand as she drew, like a giant, invisible finger was copying her patterns into the ground. She clasped her hands together eagerly, already having more fun then she'd had in ages. Her wand tilted upwards with the motion, and a huge line stretched across the desert sand and well into the distant horizon.

"Oops." She jumped, quickly erasing the line in case anyone saw. She didn't think the Gods would mind her using magic here, but important people had this habit of adopting nervous looks whenever she attempted even the most harmless of spells. She didn't want her fun to be ruined so quickly!

For the next few minutes she doodled in the dirt, flicking her wrist to create sharp lines and gently weaving graceful markings here and there. When she was finished, she dispelled the enchantment and jumped back to examine her handiwork. A rough sketch of the Dark Magician Girl stared back up at her, and she smiled a bit, wistfully. She missed her ba. They hadn't seen each other in ages! For a life full of peace and relaxation there sure was a lot of work to do!

Mana decided then that she would have to go visit her later. But not yet, not until she was finished playing. If she went now it was more than likely that one of her superiors-perhaps even master Mahod himself,-would catch her and set her to work. She would get her jobs done, just not yet!

She was starting to become a bit tired with drawing though, and was also having some difficulty attempting to come up with a new game to play. With a snap of her fingers, she reached for her spellbook next, hoping one of the spells would inspire an idea or two.

"Let's see. Offensive, defensive, neutral magics, non-combat spells, etcetera... let's try offensive. That's always more fun." A couple of flipped pages later, and her eyes lit up.

"Ooh! Garem Gruntbarrel's Fireball!" She read aloud. "Looks simple enough. Place hand at wand tip at an approximate ninety degree angle to the sun..." She trailed off into incomprehensible mutters, scanning the pages quickly. "No incantation required." She finished, snapping the book shut eagerly. With a quick flick she tossed the book over her shoulder and let it disappear in a mist of pink bubbles. Setting her feet in the appropriate stance, she placed her hand on the wand tip and stoked the magic within it. A slow heat began to grow under her hand, and she pointed the wand across the Nile so that even if it turned out stronger than she expected there was nowhere to go but underwater.

The budding energy grew and then peaked, sucking in sunlight now to fuel itself. With a mighty boom the fireball pushed off and soared across the river, going so far it actually touched the opposite bank! The aftershock of the blast knocked her back on her rump.

"Wow..." Mana breathed, a bit stunned at the sheer power of the fireball. "I'll have to remember that one!"

She got up and brushed the sand from her skirt, figuring that she'd probably caused enough trouble for one day. Wouldn't master Mahod be surprised if she went back and finished her jobs without having to be nagged!

Mana had just taken the first steps back toward the distant palace when an impossibly thunderous boom sounded behind her and an invisible wave of power threw her mercilessly to the ground.

Elsewhere in the land, near to the magnificent palace that held the thrones of the Gods, a solitary figure sat as still as stone in front of an unwavering pool. This lonely pharaoh had kept a stoic and silent vigil over the pool since he had arrived, never moving from his seat unless directly summoned by the Gods themselves. When asked what he was doing, he merely replied in a hushed and solemn tone, his voice reflecting the set of a heart very far away.

"I am watching." Is all he would ever say, and no more could be wrested from him. Most would leave him alone then, wandering off to their own favourite places to pass time where none existed. Some particularly curious individuals would peer over his shoulder and attempt to see just what inside of the clear and empty pool was so interesting. But no one could see beyond the sun kissed ripples and their shining reflections.

No one but him. He would spend hours in a quiet, meditative reflection, staring unblinkingly into the unmoving depths, his eyes wandering from sight to unseen sight. His memory fueled the sights that the eye could not see, memories so strong they manifested themselves on the surface of the water. They were crisp and sharp, undaunted by the passing of the years. Though he had been apart from them for a long while, their faces were as clear and detailed as if he had parted with them only moments ago, and their voices rang through his ears as though they had only just spoken.

He watched them day and night, never moving, hardly breathing. And when they came together, when they again became as one, he could almost picture himself right there with them. He uttered their names with fond reverence, pausing respectfully after each until he reached the last of the group. A smile graced his face, as fleeting as a flower petal in the wind. He softly breathed out the name of the boy who had been his closest friend for so very long, blinking back the unwanted and unasked for tears.

"Yugi."

Atem reached out, letting his fingertips glide across the image, sending gentle ripples shuddering away from his touch. He missed them, all of them, but he would not let any of the bitter tears fall. He was not one to dwell in self-pity, and he understood that this was the way it had to be. He had made his choice, and for whatever doubts and regrets he would come to harbour in brief moments afterward, he knew that he was correct in his decision. Given the choice, he would not have changed anything. Yugi seemed to be doing just fine on his own, and he never was completely alone after all. Atem had made a promise to him long ago that their bond would live on through the friendship that they all shared.

He closed his eyes as he traced his hand limply across the water, letting memories scatter themselves behind his eyes. Sometimes, if he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel the invisible strings of the soul that bound him to that world, and to his dear companions inside of it.

As he sat there, lost in the pleasant glow of nostalgia and happy reminiscence, an uneasy quiver swelled under his hand. He opened his eyes and peered into the pool again, willing it to become still once more. He sensed something was terribly amiss before he saw it: dark, unnatural storm clouds billowing on the horizon, moving swiftly. A wave of uncertainty and fear that was not quite his own crashed over him then, and he understood that it was Yugi that felt these things and was subconsciously trying to send them across their now nonexistent mind-link. Even after all these years, Yugi still reached for him when danger was imminent. Despite the fact that he could now thoroughly handle himself, Atem realized that Yugi had never gotten rid of the habit of calling for his battle companion. Had he not been so worried at that moment, Atem might have been overcome with emotion at the thought that perhaps he had not been forgotten, even after all this time.

As it was, his own responding fear made all thoughts flee him as he sought to find an answer to this startling predicament. Without warning, a fierce wind whipped out of nowhere, snapping his cloak over his shoulders and pelting his eyes with grains of sand. They did not sting, he felt them not at all as they tried to dig into his skin. The gritty particles flew into his eyes and nose, a deadly situation, but he could see just fine and he continued to draw breath undisturbed. Squinting into the distance, he was alarmed to note the same pitch black thunderheads growing on his own horizon, chasing a lone figure across the vast desert.

"Mana!" Atem cried, a warning that was lost in the sudden mournful howl of a furious wind.