4: Diaha

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The sun beat down mercilessly upon the witnesses of the upcoming duel, bringing sweat to their brows and casting their opposition in sharp relief. On one side of the temple courtyard stood the priests of Memphis, and on the other, the royal envoy. In the center of this makeshift arena, Metjen and Aknamkanon stood face-to-face, laying out the terms of the duel. Atem stood a few feet behind and to the side, just barely able to hear the contents of their conversation.

"This will be a clean duel," the Pharaoh decreed. "Under no circumstances will the duelists themselves be targeted."

"Fine," Metjen agreed. "But you must promise one thing in return, Pharaoh. Neither you nor any of your fellow duelists may use the power of your Millennium Items. We duel only with the might of our own ka."

Atem watched as a bead of sweat streaked down the side of his father's face. A moment passed, then the Pharaoh nodded. "Name your duelists."

Metjen looked back at his followers. "I call on my children to support me — Satiah and Metka, come forth!"

The nomark's children exchanged looks, then came to stand beside their father. A moment later, however, they were tailed by the white-haired priest Atem had seen earlier. He jogged forward and kneeled before Metjen.

"Noble Nomark," he said. "Please, let me join you and your children in this battle. I promise to defend you against your accusers."

Metjen smiled. "You are brave, young Bakura," he said. "I would gladly have you by my side, if the Pharaoh will allow it."

Metjen looked back at Aknamkanon, who inspected Bakura briefly before nodding. Bakura stood, and the wicked smirk returned to his face, causing Atem to shudder.

The Pharaoh then turned to where his envoy stood gathered behind him. "I name Mahad, Tefnak — and Atem to join me in battle."

Atem felt a bolt of fear run from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. His was the last name he would have expected to come from his father's mouth, especially when the powerful Sacred Guardians, Aknadin and Isis, were standing right beside him.

"Very well," Metjen said. "Let us prepare."

The nomark returned to his conclave of priests, and the Pharaoh did the same. Atem searched for his father's eyes, but the king had lowered them as he removed his Millennium Pendant. When he reached his envoy, he handed the Pendant to Isis, who clutched it with conviction. Aknamkanon then placed his hands on Mahad's and Tefnak's soldiers. Both men gave nods of silent understanding before stepping forward to prepare for the duel. Finally, the Pharaoh turned to Atem. He must have seen the fear in his son's eyes, for he bent to one knee and clutched Atem's shoulders.

"Remember what I told you, my son," his father whispered. "You have more courage than you know. I have faith in your abilities, and there is no one I would rather have at my side to help me settle this score."

Atem inhaled deeply to steady his ragged breaths, then gave his father one gallant nod. The king stood and led the way out to where Tefnak and Mahad were waiting. Tefnak took his place at the far right of the arena, followed by Aknamkanon, then Atem, and Mahad on the far left. Across the way, Metka stood opposite Tef, flanked by Metjen, then Satiah, with Bakura in the leftmost position.

A silence fell over the arena, as if the gods themselves had turned their ears to await the coming battle. Out of the corner of his eye, Atem saw his father raise his hand, then, his voice rang out: "DIAHA!"

Eight streams of light cascaded into the temple courtyard as magic surrounded the duelists.

"I call upon the Servant of Ptah!" Metjen announced. Before him materialized a pale, humanoid figure with its arms crossed over its chest and standing in what looked like the bottom half of a golden sarcophagus. It took Atem only a moment to realize the figure was not pale, but rather it was wrapped in linen — mummified, with only its gaping mouth exposed.

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