Disclaimer: I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Title: Priestess of Time
Romance: Isis Ishtar x Priestess Isis
Word Count: 6,360||Status: Complete
Genre: Romance, Family||Rated: PG-13
Feedback: All forms eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.
Challenge: This was written for round eleven of the Yu-Gi-Oh Pairings Challenge, season eight.
Notes: This takes place a year or so after the Ceremonial Duel.
Summary: Pegasus's legacy to Isis is something she will cherish all of her life.
Isis stared down at the envelope in her hands, post-marked from California and with the return address marked as Industrial Illusions. She turned it over, hoping for some sign of what it was about, but found nothing.
"Sister?" Malik peered over her shoulder, hints of concern tingeing his voice. "What is it?"
"I don't know." She sliced it open with the slim silver letter opener Malik had given her on her last birthday and pulled out a sheet of cream-colored paper. Something else fell out with it, landing on her lap. She glanced down to see the familiar back of a Duel Monsters card. What is this?
She didn't pick the card up just yet, but read the letter instead.
Ms. Ishtar, this inheritance is somewhat overdue. We apologize for the inconvenience, but while Pegasus's will bequeathed this card to you, we only located it recently. Enclosed you will also find a note from Pegasus.
Best wishes,
Gekkou Tenma, CEO of Industrial Illusions.
"Sister! What is it?" For someone who was nearing eighteen, Malik could on occasion give a credible imitation of a spoiled child. She smiled at him.
"Apparently Pegasus Crawford bequeathed me something in his will." She touched the card on her lap, then picked it up and set it on the table without looking at it just yet. She was somewhat more curious to see what Pegasus himself had to say before she examined the card.
She unfolded the second letter, written on the same cream stationary as the first was, but without the Industrial Illusions logo on it. The handwriting was different as well, since this was handwriting from top to bottom, unlike the one from Gekkou Tenma, where only the signature had been done by hand.
My dear Isis. It's been some time since we met, and I can only presume that since you're reading this at all, that I've passed on. I certainly hope that my funeral was impressive. I'll likely enough never know.
But enough of that. You did me a great favor by concealing the God Cards, a greater one than I feel you could ever know. That isn't the only reason I made this card for you. I truly couldn't tell you why, because I don't know. I only know that I was as compelled to create this card as I was Duel Monsters itself.
This card, the Priestess of Time, may not fit with your deck at all. But I believe you'll find it useful nevertheless. If nothing else, you may rest assured that it is the only one of its kind, drawn by my own hands. A collector's item, one might say.
No matter what, I trust that you'll be able to use it well. Farewell.
Pegasus J. Crawford.
Isis read the letter over twice more before she reached for the card on the table. Priestess of Time? She hadn't owned her Item in years, yet as her fingers touched the card and flipped it over, there was the faintest hint of a chill along the back of her neck, much as she had felt when she had seen the future in those days.
As she gazed down at the image, her breath caught in her throat. Malik leaned over to see the card for himself and she wasn't surprised to see his own eyes widening in shock.
"Sister, that card…"
"I know." The fingers of her free hand tightened against the soft cloth of her dress. She couldn't take her eyes off the card, even if she'd wanted to.
Her own image looked back at her. The outfit was different on some levels, including a heavy gold headdress and other jewelry she didn't wear, but the features on the woman's face were the same.
Isis had no idea how long she stared at the card before Rishid's deep voice rumbled through the kitchen. "Isis? Malik?"
"Rishid, look at this!" Malik tugged him over and gestured toward the card still in Isis's hand. "Pegasus Crawford left that to her in his will."
Isis glanced up at her brothers, trying to find some kind of mental balance with all of this. It shouldn't be that hard, she told herself. Yet, it was. "It's a wonderful gift. I only wish I could thank him for it properly." At the curious tilt to Rishid's head, she held the card out for him to see.
"It is beautiful." Rishid agreed, glancing at it and the letter when she offered that as well. "Will you put it into your deck?" All three of them held dueling close to their hearts, frequently competing against one another to pass the time on boring evenings or just for the sheer amusement of it. Without needing to save the world, it was pleasant just to have fun together.
"I don't know." She looked at the card again, judging the capabilities. Priestess of Time, a Light-attribute Spellcaster/Effect monster, level four. Sixteen hundred attack, fifteen hundred defense. Once during your main phase, you can look at the top card of your opponent's deck. You may then decide if they shuffle their deck or not.
She could imagine situations where that would be useful without much effort at all. She would have to think about it a while first.
Something about what the representation of her wore tugged at her mind. Isis stared at it for a few moments before there was a soft mental click.
"That isn't me," she said, lifting her head to look at her brothers. "That's her."
Malik tilted his head to the side, pale violet eyes alive with curiosity. "Who?"
Isis swallowed, trying to get her mind fully wrapped around this. "The Ceremonial Duel, when the gate to the afterlife opened. On the other side, there were those waiting for the Pharaoh. One of them looked like me." She hadn't thought much about it then; the fact that some form of her had lived back then wasn't new to her. There wasn't much information who had held the Items in the past, but some things people in her family simply knew.
Malik's brow furrowed. "That's right, I remember her being there. So what does this mean?"
"I don't know." Isis looked at the card again; there was something about it that …she didn't know if 'disturbed' was the right word or not. Her fingers still tingled as she held the card, and her eyes dropped down to it more and more. "What could it mean?"
Rishid's reply was slow and thoughtful. "The priestess who served Pharaoh Atem was as loyal to him as you are, Isis. Should it mean anything, I don't think it's anything to be afraid of."
Isis stood up and nodded. Despite how unusual it was, she didn't feel any fear or wariness, only surprise that this had happened at all. She glanced for a moment at the clock. "I have to go to work." Checking the morning mail was always the last item on her mental checklist before going in, and she'd almost eaten up too much time with this.
She hugged both Rishid and Malik for a few moments before exiting the house and heading to her office. Only when she was inside and riding the elevator did she realize that she still held the Priestess of Time in her hand. She glanced at it again and smiled.
"Hello, Priestess Isis," she murmured, wondering if there was any way that she could be heard. Could this be one of those special cards, such as Black Magician or Blue Eyes White Dragon?
Beneath her fingers, she fancied that the card grew somewhat warmer. But there was no time to think about that now. She put the card away and prepared for another day of work dealing with priceless antiques.
Isis leaned back in her chair and sipped at the bottle of water she kept on her desk. Her thoughts drifted away from the current arguments over the restoration of artifacts to Egypt and toward the card resting in her pocket. In the three weeks since it had arrived, she'd never quite gotten around to putting it into her deck. Instead, it rested beside her bed at night and remained in her pocket during the day.
She slipped her free hand into it, resting her fingers on the smooth surface, and wondered if she were reading too much into what was only a gift from an eccentric man for trying to do her duty to the world.
It's only a card, perhaps of my past. That didn't make it magical. Magic still existed, she had no doubts of that, but that didn't mean this particular card held anything to it beyond memories of another life and time.
Without quite realizing it, she set the card out on her desk and gazed at it, her thoughts circling around it more and more. What would it be like if I could speak to her? Such a thing could never be, but it was fascinating to think about. To speak with someone who had lived through the past that Isis herself had only studied and learned about from books and family stories would be wonderful.
She didn't quite close her eyes, but she lowered her lids just a little, in the hopes of catching a few moments of rest in between flurries of work. She wouldn't actually sleep on the job, but sometimes just thinking of nothing in particular helped her to focus on what needed her actual attention.
White fabric fluttered at the corner of her eyes and she frowned, wondering if the breeze had turned to flap at the window curtains. She opened her eyes to check and was a touch surprised to see that not only had it not done so, but the fabric she'd seen was gone as well.
What in the world? The security of this building was far too tight for anyone to just sneak in, even if someone would do that just to taunt her with a vague flicker of cloth.
Her gaze dropped back to the card and the priestess who wore a gown similar to her own. She shook her head; she was used to Egypt's weather, but perhaps the heat was going to her head just a little. She drank a little more cold water and returned her thoughts forcefully to the paperwork in front of her. Some of the foreign archeologists weren't reporting their finds as accurately as they should be; that was what she needed to focus on.
She was able to keep herself occupied until the end of the workday, though on occasion she thought she caught a flicker that might have been sunlight flashing off gold or another twitch of a white robe. Whenever she turned to look at those small nuisances directly, they were just as gone as the first one had been.
Tucking the card back into her usual pocket, she made her way home. What if there is some kind of spirit in the card? Isis mused to herself as she made her way through the crowded streets. Would it truly be Priestess Isis or someone who just looked like her but is a different person entirely?
She teased and worried at the thought until she was almost home. She paid only cursory attention to the other pedestrians, until one of them brushed by her, murmuring apologies for the tight quarters. Isis might well have thought nothing of it at all, if she hadn't noticed deft fingers dodging into her pocket. One quick check revealed what had happened.
"Stop!" She called out, whirling on the spot and staring down to where the young boy, surely no more than fifteen or sixteen, halted in his tracks at her cry, then began to hurry along. She stepped after him as quickly as her feet could carry her.
The pickpocket was good not just as actually stealing, but the just as essential part that was running away afterward. Isis knew this area quite well, however; she'd spent several years there after all. She refused to keep calling 'thief' after him and far quicker than he might have imagined, she closed one hand around his wrist and stared down at him with all the might that an experienced older sister learned.
"You stole something of mine." In the back of Isis's mind, she noticed that she was far more annoyed over the theft of her card that she might have been over the theft of her wallet, tucked into a deeper inner pocket, one not so easily reached by thieves. It's a unique card, crafted by Pegasus himself, she told herself. She wasn't sure if she believed herself, though.
The thief glared at her with hot dark eyes. "So?" He gave no other explanations, even as she held her hand out. "You think I'm just gonna give it back to you?"
"You wouldn't know what to do with it." Isis stared down at him. In some ways it was much like looking at Malik had been a few years earlier, without the world endangering split personality. But a child who raged at the world, yes, indeed.
He grumbled some, crumbling under her intense gaze. "I bet you'd just get it canceled anyway."
Her lips curved for a moment. "It isn't a credit card." His own eyes widened and he dug his free hand inside of his tattered jacket to pull the card out. A moment later he tossed it toward her, lips twisted.
"A stupid Duel Monsters card. You can keep it, lady." He gave her no chance to say anything else, but twisted out of her grip and vanished into the shadows of the alleyway. Isis stared after him and sighed before she turned her steps back toward her home.
She brushed the card off, though there was nothing wrong with it, and began to put it away again, when three words floated through her mind. Thank you, Isis.
Isis froze where she stood, her gaze flickering around in search of whomever it was that might have spoken to her. In all the hurrying back and forth of going home, no one appeared to have even noticed her, much less spoken.
Much less been able to do so inside her very thoughts. She kept on going, keeping the Priestess of Time held close to her instead of putting it away. Her heart skipped a few beats but she tried not to notice that. Surely she'd imagined that voice? Was there any way that it could be real? She hadn't overworked herself; she couldn't be hallucinating.
Rishid and Malik wouldn't be home for another hour, she noted as she strode the last few steps toward her front door. That was fine with her; indeed, she looked forward to having the time to deal with this. She hurried inside, closed and locked the door, and made herself sit down on the living room couch before she set the card in front of her and stared at it.
I've never felt so foolish before. If it was just her imagination, though, then there was no harm in doing this. If it wasn't…then there still wasn't. She drew in a breath before speaking.
"Are you there, Priestess Isis?" As soon as the words passed her lips, she wanted to pull them back. It was a card, just a normal, modern, unique card. She wasn't the Pharaoh; no one had pledged eternal service to her. Yet, at the same time, she could not shake the feeling that she was not alone in the apartment.
Something prickled at her eyes and she rubbed them, trying to clear her vision. She tried not to think of how ridiculous she felt waiting for an answer and considered calling again.
"Yes." The voice was low, little more than a breath of sound, but there all the same. Isis sat up straighter and looked around in an attempt to find where it came from.
"Where are you?" She glanced back at the card, but that didn't quite seem to be right. White flickered out of the corner of her eyes and she started to look that way before she stopped herself. Maybe if she didn't look for it…
There she was. Standing straight and tall, just as she herself did, clad in the same garments that the card reflected. Isis caught her breath at the sight. Though it was her own face she looked at, there was a regality and peace there she had never believed she possessed.
"Priestess Isis…" Though their names were the same, Isis Ishtar hadn't once thought of the other without the 'priestess' in front of her name. Her studies told her that the proper name was Aset, though the pronunciation would be somewhat the same, so far as anyone knew. She wasn't sure what she should call the other just yet, though. Using their shared name would take getting used to, if that were what it turned out to be.
The priestess moved closer to her, her movements as graceful as could be. They were of equal height and Isis stared into eyes that could have been her own reflected.
"You are Isis Ishtar." Isis didn't think the priestess spoke in Arabic, but she understood her words nevertheless.
"Yes." Isis nodded, unable to remove her eyes from the spirit before her. Yes, the priestess was a spirit, somewhat filmy and see-through, but as real as she herself was. "And you're Priestess Isis, who served Pharaoh Atem." The other nodded, her gaze casting about the room. "Though it's been some time since I stood in his court."
"Three thousand years I believe." Isis could hardly believe that this conversation was happening in the first place. A thousand questions darted through her mind and none of them settled down enough for her to ask any of them.
"So I've come to understand. And my Pharaoh is in the afterlife, having saved the world once again." Priestess Isis's brow furrowed. "Some part of me, I believe, is there with him. As a part of me is in you." Her lips curved upward for a moment. "Is this as confusing for you as it is for me?"
Isis had to laugh and the tension between them shattered as she did. "Yes, it is. I think this is more confusing than anything I ever dealt with concerning the Millennium Items." If only because then, the path had been clear. Attempt to save Malik, reunite the Items in Yuugi's possession, and hope that he and the Pharaoh could save the world. Now everything lay new and untouched before them.
The priestess glanced down at herself, lifting one hand to stare through it before she returned her gaze to Isis. "Will you speak of this to your brothers?"
"I don't know." The thought had never crossed Isis's mind. Neither Rishid nor Malik appeared to have that much of an interest in her new card as the weeks passed and nothing interesting manifested. "Would they be able to see you?"
"I don't know." Her words echoed from the other and they shared a smile. "To see a spirit required great magic once. I believe it would still be the same today."
"Magic isn't something many people concern themselves with now." Isis sighed at the thought. Even those who studied the history of the Millennium Items and the Games of Darkness didn't always believe in them.
Priestess Isis tilted her head back, thoughts visibly flickering through her eyes. "If they do see me, then we can explain to them, as much as we know. If not, then there isn't a need to speak of it."
Isis nodded; her own thoughts ran much in the same direction, she decided. "They should be home soon," she said, confirming the time with a glance at her watch. "What would you like to do until then?" Would it be proper to offer a cup of tea to a spirit?
"Tell me of this game. I appear to be a part of it now." She gestured to the card where it lay on the table. "But I still don't understand everything about it."
Of all the ways Isis had imagined spending her afternoon, teaching what was in effect the spirit of a Duel Monsters card about the game wasn't really one of them. But she pulled her deck out and began to do so, explaining spells, traps, and monster cards. The priestess listened intently, asking questions when she had them, and Isis answered, clarifying points and referring to her copy of the rulebook whenever something had faded in her memory.
"Sister?" Isis jerked up, her eyes wide, and stared at the door. She'd forgotten entirely that Malik and Rishid were to be home soon in the fascination of teaching the priestess. "Are you all right?" Malik's shoulders were tense and one hand cocked as if to draw the knife she knew he kept hidden on him. "Who are you talking to?"
She glanced at where the spirit stood beside her, then back to him. There was no sign in either him or Rishid that they saw the priestess at all. We didn't think about this part.
"Isis?" Rishid stood behind Malik, one hand resting on his shoulder, but just as tense in his own way as their younger brother was.
Isis made a decision. She wasn't sure of how good a decision it was, but she made it. "I was refining my deck. I must have been speaking out loud." She didn't like lying to them, but the alternative involved them being worried about her sanity.
Malik's gaze flickered around the room and she wondered if he suspected someone else, someone of flesh and blood, of being in there with her. She smiled for a moment as she gathered her cards up and put them away. She would have to make certain not to be this careless around them again.
"I haven't started dinner yet. Is there anything you'd like me to make or should we order something?" Each of them took it in turns to make meals and do the other household chores, at least such ones as they could manage. Malik had yet to master the art of sweeping and mopping a floor, for example, and the less said about his ability to do laundry, the better.
Perhaps the mention of something so commonplace helped to relax Malik, as he shifted away from Rishid and went to sit down. "I'm not all that hungry, sister." At least, he relaxed within relation to her; annoyance still tinged his voice as he dropped down into his favorite chair.
She picked up the Priestess's card last of all and slid it without thinking into that pocket of hers. The spirit was gone now, or at least not out where she could see her, but there was still a sense of awareness somewhere in the back of Isis's mind. She wasn't alone.
However, she was worried about Malik now. "What is it?"
"Ghouls." Rishid answered when Malik said nothing, his pale eyes shadowed and annoyed. "There have been several newspaper articles lately on thefts of rare cards that they've taken credit for."
Isis's eyes narrowed. "They aren't trying to blame you, are they?" Malik had shredded his ties to the Ghouls as soon as they'd returned from Japan. He had no more need for thieves to steal cards for him.
"No." Malik shook his head but still didn't look up at her. "They shouldn't be doing this at all. I told them to disband."
I think that bothers him more than anything else does. Isis kept her expression calm. The way that Malik expected others to obey him while he walked his own path amused her. She didn't know how much the Priestess knew of her family life, but she suspected that she was amused as well.
"There will always be those who would rather listen to themselves than anyone who might know better." Rishid's expression didn't twitch. "They'll learn in time, I'm sure."
Malik said nothing, only stared at a patch of sunlight on the carpet. Isis wisely chose only to go to the phone and begin ordering dinner. When he was like this, very little got through to him.
Who are these Ghouls? Though she couldn't see the Priestess, she did hear the voice. Isis turned away as she paged through the phone book in search of a proper delivery place.
"A gang of ruthless card thieves." She murmured her response too low for either of her brothers to hear her. "Malik led them some time ago but he abandoned them." She would tell more later; it was much too complicated to go into now.
Her back was to them, but she was certain Malik and Rishid were exchanging looks, even if they couldn't hear her clearly enough to know what she was talking about. Perhaps they would be able to see her one day. Though just what they'd think of her, Isis had no idea.
Another few weeks passed with very little beyond the norm occurring. Work and play, as always, with the occasional annoyance in the form of more reports on the Ghouls cropping up now and then. Malik's expression grew darker and darker with every one of those and he took to vanishing for hours at night. Isis didn't doubt for a moment that he scouted their old lairs in search of his former followers, intending to mete out his own brand of justice. She said nothing; Malik had to handle his own problems.
For herself, she took to walking during the day, going to parks and anywhere else she could find where no one would hear her speaking to the spirit of the priestess. Every time they spoke, her blood ran a little faster and the colors of the world around her appeared brighter. A hundred thoughts slipped around in the back of her mind about why any of this happened and she ignored them all to simply enjoy them.
"Can you feel the sunlight?" Isis asked the priestess as they sat together on a park bench. The card lay in her lap; it didn't need to for the spirit to appear near her, but she liked having it out anyway.
"Not like I used to, but I can feel that it's there." Priestess Isis told her. "Being like this isn't so much different from being human. The difference is the card." She waved one hand to it. "Remember when you left it at home?"
Oh, yes, Isis remembered that, just a day or two earlier.
"I couldn't go very far from it to tell you that you'd done it." The priestess smiled a hint of a rueful smile. "It's not quite like being chained, but more like a wall that cannot be passed through."
She passed her fingers along the card, her attention dropping for a moment to where the shadowy form of the priestess's own hand lay, and wondered if she could touch her at all. She'd never tried. "I won't let that happen again." She couldn't imagine life without the other there constantly now, whether visible or not.
Isis wasn't certain what she was about to say as she opened her mouth. She never quite found out, since a small shadow fell across her a moment later, and a grubby hand she thought she recognized darted forward to seize the card in her lap.
She was on her feet a moment later, but the small thief was too fast for her, running toward the more highly populated streets. Isis followed with all the speed she could muster, fury burning through her veins. Why? Why would he do that again? The little thief had already said that he didn't care about Duel Monsters. Why take the card again?
She would find out when she closed with him, she decided. He moved fast, faster than he had before, dodging in and about other people, heading for a part of the city she herself knew was haunted by those of ill repute. She hesitated only for a few moments before she continued to follow. It didn't matter that the Ghouls haunted this area even now. She would get back what he'd stolen.
He darted around a corner, and try as she might, Isis couldn't catch up; the press of people all around her was too great. By the time she reached where she'd seen him last, he was gone altogether. She stared at the dark alleyway, then dipped one hand into one of her pockets. She knew exactly who to call to set this right.
"Malik. I need your help."
Isis followed in Malik's footsteps, Rishid's shadow falling over her as she did. All three of them moved in utter silence. Though as surely as if she'd had the Millennium Eye, Isis knew the thoughts that raged through Malik's mind. The Ghouls not only dared to remain together after his orders otherwise, but now they had stolen something that was hers.
There would be blood.
"Here." Malik put a hand on a section of the wall and stared at it. "This should be the entrance."
"Should be?" She tilted her head, trying to get a good look at the area. There was only a small amount of light here, most of it having filtered down from above, and the buildings around them were old, battered, and dirty from the passage of years. This didn't seem to be the kind of place that a worldwide criminal organization would have for a headquarters. At least not from what she'd heard from Malik about what they used when he was in charge.
"This is the closest base that I know of to where you said that kid went." Malik elaborated. "They might not have used it, or they could've blocked this one up. We'd have to find another one then." He eyed it again, then dug his fingers into what appeared to be just another part of the wall and yanked outward.
A section fell forward, revealing an opening that was more of a hole than a doorway in Isis's opinion. She didn't question Malik's word as she and Rishid followed him inside. Past the hole was a myriad of hallways and doors, most of which Malik ignored as he made his way through the maze. So far as she could tell, he chose the ones he followed at random, but as they drew farther in, she could hear the sound of voices ahead of her, ones that didn't sound like ordinary people discussing ordinary topics.
Malik hissed under his breath; she couldn't entirely hear what he said, but she didn't think she wanted to either.
He didn't waste another second, but stepped forward, throwing open the last door so that it smashed against the wall. "Does this look like disbanded to you?" His voice rang against the walls and everyone in the room beyond turned to look at him in varying degrees of surprise.
"What do you want?" One of those in the center of the room recovered more quickly than the others did. Isis's gaze ran over everyone else, until she spied the boy who had stolen her card. He didn't have it in his hands and when he saw her, he ducked behind one of the larger men there.
"Two things." Malik folded his arms over his chest and stared down at the group as if he were still their leader. "I want you all to do what I said the first time and disband. But first and foremost, that brat there stole a card from my sister. I want it back."
The one who had spoken stood up, back straight and eyes flaming. "You're not the leader anymore, Ishtar. I am. Just because you want to quit doesn't mean that we have to." He sneered at all three of the Ishtars. "And when the Ghouls steal a card, it stays stolen."
Isis's lips twitched for a moment. "I don't believe that's true." She'd heard more than one story about Ghouls having stolen a card whose owner fought to get it back, and won. Jounouchi Katsuya came to mind, among rare others.
"Stay out of this." The so-called leader snapped before he looked back at Malik. "If you want to try to take back leadership, you're welcome to try." From the tilt of his shoulders and the way one of his hands moved, Isis suspected he was as armed as Malik was.
Malik snorted at that. "No. I don't need any of you. But the Ghouls belong to me and I said disband."
The speaker's smirk was just as cruel as any of Malik's dark side had ever been. "Then fight me, Ishtar. If you win, then we'll do as you say. If I win, then …" More insanity than before lit his expression. "If I win, then you die."
Malik's knife was in his hand almost before the other finished speaking. "I thought you'd never ask."
As the two of them moved closer to one another, a knife also in the challenger's hand, Isis stepped over to the child, ignoring the looks the other thieves gave her. Rishid kept pace with her, his forbidding demeanor all she needed to keep the more vicious ones away from her.
"Give it back." Despite how he tried to hide behind the others, Isis's gaze found him. Most of them were trying to get a good view of the fight, but she paid little attention to it. She trusted that Malik could handle himself. The clashing sound of blade against blade was all she needed to know that it continued.
"I don't have it!" The child moved a bit forward, finding courage in those around him, and stared at her. "Besides, it's just a card! You can get more of them, can't you?"
Isis shook her head, moving closer. "Not that one. That was a special gift." She kept most of her attention on him, but part of her also listened for the Priestess's voice or a sight of her. If she were there at all, she would say something.
"So?" The boy shook his head some. "I bet you can buy all the cards you want. You can find another one just like it."
"No, I can't." Isis repeated. "That card was created for me. It means more to me than anything else in the world." Even as she spoke, she knew the words were true. But not for the rarity or for the fact Pegasus had crafted it with his own hands just for her.
It's her. It's Priestess Isis. Warmth flowed through her at the very thought of the other and white flickered, familiar and strong.
"I'm here, Isis. This one has my card." Priestess Isis stood now beside one of the brawnier members of the gang. Her eyes glowed with warmth as well, and Isis hoped it was for seeing her there.
She turned her full attention on the one that the priestess stood beside. "You have my card. Give it back." Her voice hardened, refusing to take any form of compromise.
The thief pulled away from her, standing up. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Isis's gaze flickered up to the priestess, who gestured to the vest the thief wore. "It's in your left vest pocket," she replied calmly.
The moment she uttered that, his hand flew up to the pocket she'd named and he paled. "How did you…" He recovered, shaking his head, and glared at her. "So what? It's ours now, since he stole it." He jerked his head toward the kid, who sneered at her. "You want it back, try to take it."
He had to be armed. But Isis cared nothing for that. He had Priestess Isis and she would not stand for that. She reached out and before he could make a move to stop her, plucked the card from his pocket, her hand cupping it around it protectively. The thief squawked, some of the others around him stirring and reaching for their own weapons.
She had nothing to fear. Rishid stood beside her, shooting a look at them that spoke eloquently of pain to come if they crossed him. At the same moment, a cry of pain echoed from behind them: one that was not in Malik's voice. She turned just enough to see the one who called himself their leader falling back, disarmed and with a long bleeding streak down one arm.
"That's enough." Malik growled out the words. "We have what we came for and you know I can kill you if I want to. Leave here. If I ever hear of any of you again doing this, I'll finish what I started."
The so-called leader scrambled to his feet with the help of some of his subordinates, glaring hatred sharp enough to cut at Malik. Malik himself slid his knife back into the sheath and turned to his siblings.
"Let's go."
Isis had no problem with that at all. Perhaps, she mused as they left, they should have called the police. But Malik knew better how to find their hideout and the police would have wanted to keep the Priestess's card as evidence. Not to mention, she knew quite well how ineffective the official channels were for keeping the Ghouls down.
This might not work either. But perhaps they'll stay out of sight for a time, if nothing else. It was perhaps the best that they could hope for.
They were back at home before anyone said anything. Rishid spoke. "You truly care about that card more than anything?"
"Yes." She didn't object to saying that much now. "It's more precious to me than I can say." She pulled it out once again and touched her fingertips to it, her heart warming as the spirit formed on the edge of her sight. There was so much else she wanted to say and yet she didn't. She couldn't. Now wasn't the right time or the right place.
Until then, she was content with what they had.
The End