Marik chuckles sadly. "Having your fate decided the moment you're born, not letting you have any say in it... My father forbade me from ever leaving the tomb. Said that if I got a taste of the outside world, I'd only want more. Of course I wanted more! I was forced to study ancient scriptures and encantations, learn the forgotten language. Learn of the God Cards and their powers."

The blonde scoffs to himself.

"All of this in the off chance some long lost forgotten dead Pharaoh was ever to be reborn, I'd be his calling card to give him a hint on his true identity. You can imagine how boring all of that is to a child. It didn't help that Odion was more than willing to take all of that upon himself but father wouldn't allow it because he wasn't of Ishtar blood. I hoped endlessly that father would eventually choose him despite that but of course it never happened."

He shifts a bit so he can sit on the edge of the bed and lean over, hands steepled below his chin. His expression is dark and his gaze is unfocused for a moment. Chenzira looks up from his cards and sets them down, a look of worry on his little face. He hasn't seen Marik like this in a long time...

"What kind of beloved ruler forces a child of each generation to have a mural carved into his back..."