Pharaoh Pt 1

Part 1 of Pharaoh's rewritten story!


When he received news of his father, Ghost's death, Pharaoh immediately knew who had killed him. It was only the night before - the night which Ghost had been murdered - that Pharaoh had seen his sister Mirage behaving more suspiciously than normal before slipping from the palace. Being suspicious was nothing new for Mirage, but waking in the middle of the night to hear her sloppily thudding through the window into her room nextdoor, hearing her hiss of pain, and tasting the scent of fresh blood was enough to sow an uneasy seed of serious wariness within Pharaoh. The next morning, when a soldier rushed into the throne room and exclaimed that he'd discovered Ghost's bloodied corpse half-buried in the desert, Mirage showed hardly a glimmer of surprise at the morbid news.

"Moons, that's terrible! Who would kill our dear father?" Mirage had feigned surprise - though it may have been somewhat convincing to a normal citizen, Pharaoh had lived with her his whole life and knew her tongue wove lies. Fresh gashes hastily stitched caused her to wince, and the haze of heat around her body only made further intimidating her eerie, empty green eyes as they turned to stare at him.

Pharaoh and Mirage had never really gotten along all that well - in fact, on more than one occasion he had felt like she seriously wanted him dead. For example, when they were only three years old she had lunged for his throat when they were playing. He'd hardly managed to throw her off with the help of his other sister, Xerocole, but the scars from the gashes she'd left still remain to this day. When he called to his mother, crying and bloody, the Queen had been convinced by Mirage that it was only an accident and that Pharaoh was simply weak. Since then, Pharaoh had grown increasingly wary of his more violent sister. He had always been closer with Xerocole anyways, so he just hung out less and less with Mirage.

On this day though, Pharaoh was sure that Queen Coyote had some idea that it was Mirage who had so ungracefully disposed of the King. For years, there had been a tension in the air, a looming sense that Mirage had her eyes on the throne and would certainly one day act on it. Pharaoh wouldn't dare say anything, though. Despite her tactics being a little more subversive than an outright challenge, he was sure that ending up on Mirage's bad side - or, a worse bad side - would leave him just like his father. A lifeless corpse, torn apart in the sand for the buzzards to feast on.

It wasn't even the siblings' first time killing other dragons, either.

At the age of five, their parents had introduced them to The Arena. Pharaoh could still recall taking his first steps into the dungeon; a grand multi-level ring of cells surrounding "the pit" of the Arena itself. Even now, Pharaoh wasn't sure if the windows looking into the pit from the cells were meant to be something for the prisoners to do while they rotted away, or if it was something to grow fear within for the fate that surely awaited them. As a much younger dragonet, he didn't think to wonder, but the blood-scented memory of his first time watching an Arena battle never left him.

Even more haunting was the first time he saw Mirage in that Arena, taking the life of another dragon with no second thought. She stepped into the sand as if she'd lived in the pit her whole life, and after only a few short minutes had subdued her opponent. With a vicious bite to the throat, and a terrible, long swipe of her barbed tail along the dragon's underside, Pharaoh had watched Mirage make her first kill. The dragonets were only five then, and though his mother had wanted Pharaoh and Xerocole to follow in Mirage's talonsteps and fight in the arena, Pharaoh had managed to avoid the task for another year. Xerocole had been able to avoid it until they were eight.

Killing never came as a pleasure to Pharaoh, and he felt a pity for those subjected to the Arena. When he was forced to kill for the first time, he felt as if the tang of blood never left his mouth. It wasn't as if his opponent hadn't tried to kill him, and Pharaoh had already come to acknowledge that at some point in his life he would likely have to kill, but no prisoner in their dungeon had a choice of whether or not to fight. It wasn't as if the prisoners were doing it for their Kingdom, as Pharaoh's parents had tried to convince the siblings that the Sandwings were. They were doing it in hopes that they'd live to see another day, with the prospect of one day leaving the blood-rusted bars of the dungeons and seeing the sun again.

Regardless, Mirage had killed tens - maybe even a hundred dragons. He knew she  was, without a single doubt, capable of killing him. She'd certainly even thought of it already. The day of the funeral, the sun was dim through gray clouds and Pharaoh hung his head low at the tomb of his father. King Ghost was never very affectionate, but it certainly felt to Pharaoh that he cared much more than Coyote about his wellbeing. There was no rain that day, but the sun never shone through the hazy blanket of clouds. Pharaoh tried to avoid Mirage that day, and walked with Xerocole through the palace garden instead. Xerocole spoke quietly as they walked.

"Mother doesn't seem to-"

"I know. She doesn't." Pharaoh said. "It's honestly not as if she'd seemed to care much when he was alive though, either."

Xerocole nodded. Coyote had only been with Ghost because they were betrothed when they were younger, and there was barely a semblance of a loving relationship between the two during Pharaoh's life. With two daughters to potentially inherit the throne, Coyote was fine with the King dead. One of the only things that concerned her was the continuation of the Sandwing royalty, and the only thing that could upset that would be for her daughters to die or fail.

"I'm worried about Mirage." Xerocole stated. Pharaoh nodded. If Mirage wanted the throne, Xerocole was a much more likely target to kill than Pharaoh - and that's if she didn't just go straight for Coyote first.

"I am, too." He said. They passed silently by vibrant flowers, and the dragon-made oasis stream bubbled quietly. Pharaoh thought, the sound of water trickling seeming to echo in the silent chamber of their conversation. Then, he broke it. "I've been speaking with Pernicious-"

"The prisoner, again!? You know how mother feels about conversing with criminals-"

"Is her existence truly a crime? And it's not as if she's going to leak the secrets of the Sandwing royal family or anything. She's living in a cell deep beneath our feet!" Pharaoh bit back, shuffling his wings uncomfortably. "I know you've spoken to some of them, too. I heard mother yell at you the other day."

Xerocole looked down. Her wings drooped, and her jaw tightened with regret. Pharaoh had overheard only part of the reprimand, but it was only a few days ago that Queen Coyote had chastised his sister over speaking with one of the prisoners. Coyote did not like when the siblings treated dragons "below them" as equals, or even just as if they were worth speaking to. The next night, the very prisoner Xerocole had spoken to was gutted on the sandy floors of the Arena by none other than the Queen herself.

"I just wish we could help some of them. Most of the fights end in death, and barely any dragon gets out of the dungeon alive," Pharaoh started. "I know some of them have murdered many and committed terrible things, but something like `crimes of hybridization`? Most Kingdoms don't have that law. It's a weird law to have."

The law in question was put in place before even Coyote took the throne. As far as Pharaoh and the royal Historian, Papyrus, knew, nobody could remember why it was enacted. Pharaoh often consulted Papyrus about things like Sand Kingdom history. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a lot of things that were either poorly kept or not kept record of at all. Many things that were recorded were recorded very simply, too. Things like "6540 A.S. - Arena re-established." No context? Nothing else? Why? And re-established? The records weren't well-kept enough for him to even know when there was an arena before this one, and some records were even off-limits to all but the King and Queen, some even being for the Queen's eyes only.

So when Pharaoh was growing up and wondered aloud why dragons were imprisoned for "crimes of hybridization," his parents scolded him, and Coyote had tried to justify.

"They are spies for other kingdoms," she would hiss. "They seek only the destruction of what we've built." It still didn't make sense to Pharaoh. Regardless, any time he was caught speaking to dragons like Pernicious, a hybrid prisoner, he would get scolded and it was often that the prisoner would either disappear or die.

"I know. When I'm Queen, things will be different," Xerocole said solemnly. Both of them knew what she meant to say next, but neither wanted to speak it aloud. If I live to become Queen.

They stepped out of the gardens to the front courtyard of the Palace, and standing on the front step, eerily staring at the two siblings, was their sister Mirage. Her white scales seemed to glow in the gray light of the day, and without a word she turned around and slinked back into the palace.