Tectonic Shift
By SMYGO4EVA
Heaving a heavy sigh, Kisara pushed open the final door in the blue wing of the palace. She had been searching for Priest Seto, as Isis had said that the apprentice stayed around the blue wing at times, but so far, she was having no luck.
She paused when the door slid open, staring in at the blue training rooms, her eyes darting around warily. She could see all the typical weapons – swords, knives, a bow and arrows, spears and such, but there were also strange weapons Kisara didn't recognize, and she felt a moment of unease knowing that Seto was spending time in this place.
Sighing, she turned to leave, seeing the place was empty, only to come face to face with a figure she never wanted to see again.
"Kisara," The Thief King Bakura said pleasantly, lips curving up into a slightly manic smile. Kisara stepped back, feeling a hatred she had never thought she was capable of rising up inside her.
"Thief King," she hissed in return, keeping her gaze locked on him.
"I must say, I didn't expect to see you grace the palace halls with your presence," The Thief King drawled, stepping into the room casually, lightly picking up a sword as he did so, testing the weight in his hand.
Kisara felt her heartbeat quicken. Reacting quickly, she spun, grabbing the bow and notching an arrow before pulling the string back and pointing it directly at Bakura's heart, her lips pressed into a firm line.
Bakura tilted his head and then chuckled, looking somewhat amused. "I don't think you want to do that, Maiden of the Dragon."
"Don't you dare call me that," Kisara retorted, feeling adrenaline pumping through her body. She was like a little girl again, when she was just as adventurous as she was a long time ago, dreams of greater things flowing through her head; trained to attack. She was an excellent shot back then, and having a bow in her hands was almost like welcoming back an old friend. "You have no right to call me that."
"Just as unpredictable as always," Bakura noted, eying her bow with some measure of amusement. "But then, I do like my women with a bit of bite in them."
"You pig!" Kisara spat, the bow string tightening slightly. "Get out of the way, and let me pass – I demand you leave me and Seto alone – I'm still an excellent shot, I could strike you straight in the heart and I would not regret a thing."
"So frightfully rude!" Bakura noted, taking another step closer. "…and so very unladylike, fair maiden."
"Kisara!" Kisara insisted, hand shaking slightly. "My name is Kisara!"
"Don't make me hurt you, my dear," Bakura said darkly. "I could throw this sword and kill you here and now, stab you right in your heart."
"Not before I fire this arrow straight into your heart," Kisara retorted. "You killed Priest Mahaad, and now you came here, to hurt Seto. What did you do to him, Bakura? I demand to know!"
"Oh I haven't done anything yet - just having a little bit of fun," Bakura said dismissively, though his lip curled into a smirk. "Breaking him will be almost as fun as killing that fool Mahaad."
Kisara's eyes widened and before her mind could fully process the horrifying words he had just said, her hand had released the bow string, sending the arrow flying towards him. Her aim was perfect, but the Thief King's reflexes were something to envy. Immediately, he grabbed the arrow as the head rested just an inch over his skin, and raised an eyebrow.
"Oh dear." He mused, fist closing around the arrow shaft, snapping it effortlessly. "Now you've made me mad."
"You're a monster! That's what you are and that's what you always will be!" Kisara replied, her voice almost a shout, but just barely above a whisper, instinctively beginning to back away from him, the hand holding the bow feeling numb. Bakura approached her, ripping the weapon out of her hands and snapping it effortlessly before his hand closed around her neck.
Kisara let out a gasp of pain and fear as he slammed her back against the wall, pinning her there by her throat. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, trying in vain to pull him off, to get air back into her lungs.
"I could end your suffering right now Kisara, as you too are a monster, being the dragon that your dear and precious Seto holds at his beck and call." Bakura uttered darkly, tightening his grip, and Kisara struggled more, a choked cry escaping her lips. She couldn't even scream, let alone breathe.
"But no, that would be much too easy. I'm not quite done with your precious Seto just yet, and now that you're here – well that just makes this whole thing even more fun." He chuckled, and dropped her, letting her fall to the floor, massaging her neck and gasping for air.
"Farewell, my dear maiden," he said cheerfully, tossing the sword to the side. "See you soon – or rather – you'll be seeing me." Still chuckling, a maddening grin forming on his face, Bakura left, feeling satisfied.
Shakily, Kisara pulled herself onto her feet and immediately left the room, refusing to allow herself to break. Her neck throbbed and ached, and breathing was difficult, but she'd get through it. Pausing when she saw a door, Kisara pushed the door open to see a bedroom awaiting her. She entered slowly, her whole body shaking, and paused when she saw a familiar shield on the bed. She had no idea how it got there, but a shaky sob broke through her lips as she knelt by the bed, her fingers tracing the rings of the great kingdom of Egypt, tears beginning to fall silently down her cheeks.
"Girls aren't supposed to draw swords or carry weapons."
Turning sharply, fifteen year old Kisara turned to the speaker, a young handsome man with medium long brown hair. He was watching her with some interest, eying the bow in her hands and the quiver on her back. She was curious about how the archers can fire their arrows so meticulously, and she wanted to give it a try.
"Really?" Kisara asked, retrieving another arrow and keeping her stance tall, trying not to dip her head initiatively. "I can be just as good as any man."
The boy looked amused at her words and shrugged, gesturing to the target behind her. Obviously he wanted her to prove herself, and suddenly, Kisara felt some courage that was buried deep below rise up inside of her. She would prove her worth. Turning to the target, Kisara pulled the bowstring back and took a deep, calming breath. She concentrated, and then released the arrow, feeling a sudden satisfaction when it soared straight into the center. She turned back to the boy, and was delighted to see an awestruck expression on his face.
"Impressive," he noted, holding out a hand to her. "My name is Seto."
Kisara hesitated. She wasn't really well known, as she was but a peasant in the presence of a great priest in the making.
"Kisara," she finally decided, taking his hand and feeling a blush rise up to her cheeks when he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kisara."
Pulling the shield up, Kisara held it to her chest as more tears fell, and her body began to shake.
"I'm sorry – I'm so sorry." She whispered, her voice breaking. She couldn't protect herself, let alone Seto.
She had failed him.