Hello there! Thanks so much for showing interest in this little (okay, maybe not so little) fic we've got goin' on here. This is a Marik x OC romance fic, which is being co-authored by Ataahua and The Duelist's Heiress. The fic starts about a month before Battle City, while the sequel picks up around four years after Battle City ends.
Just an FYI, A'isha (the main OC in this fic) is also paired with Marik in Ataahua's alternate universe fic, Toying With My Emotions (the cheesy name is oh so regretted, trust me). In A Name: Act I has stemmed from The Duelist's Heiress posing the question: "How would A'isha and Marik work in the normal YGO universe?"
Without further ado, we hope you enjoy In A Name: Act I! :D
Prologue: A Freudian Slip
His eyes scanned the report on his desk, surprised at his own self-control considering something had not gone according to plan. He scanned the report for a name, vexed by the fact that whoever transcribed this needed to work on their penmanship.
He had already found his own name. That was the problem.
A smirk crossed his features as he found the one responsible for this Freudian Slip. He set the report aside, fingering a golden object that lay on his lap. His hypnotic voice echoed softly with a lightly malicious rasp. "Bring Micheas to the Throne room."
x
Beneath the darkness of a mauve hood, a cloaked figure glared down his nose at the trembling buffoon prostrated before him. Michaes crawled two feet closer, three marble steps all that separated him from the figure on the golden throne.
"It… It was a… a s-s-slip of the t-tongue!" Sweat beaded his brow, his eyes darting anywhere but the lavender hue of his Master's. "I… I didn't in…intend for—"
"It doesn't matter." A cruel smirk curled across the figure's lips. "Someone who has avoided getting convicted as many times as you have should know that a mere slip of the tongue makes all the difference."
"P-Please, Master!" Michaes pressed his face flat to the marble floor, veins flaring in his bulging eyes. "It… It won't ha-happen again!"
An ominous chuckled echoed off every empty wall. "You're right, you fool." His eyes narrowed as he raised a golden sceptre, the unblinking eye engraved upon it glowing brighter by the second. "I'll make certain of that."
"No!" Michaes lurched upright, tears flying from his eyes. "M-Master! PLEASE, NO—"
"Silence!" The figure's voice thundered through the cavernous room, every corner and crevice engulfed by blinding light, along with the agonised screams of his victim.
And when the light faded, Michaes slumped straight to the floor.
Still.
Soulless.
He was gone.
The figure traced a tan thumb across the golden eye on the sceptre. "One should know the cost of an infamous slip of the tongue," he murmured, his expression grave.
Seconds later, another cloaked figure stepped out from the shadows, bowing before his boss. "Master Marik," he addressed, "should we send some Rare Hunters after the girl?"
A cunning smirk toyed with Marik's lips. "No, Odion." Glee danced in the depths of his lavender eyes. "I've something far more entertaining in mind."
Revised 10 July 2018