A/N: My ancient Egyptian mythology is a bit shaky, but I'm pretty sure of certain things. When I get a bit more time, I'll be checking over the mythological facts for this chapter, so, it will be updated sometime in the near future.
** WARNING **: I have not seen past season three of Yu-Gi-Oh - well what I think is season three at least, since I loose count easily. Hell, I haven't even seen what happens after Ra was summoned - so what follows is my own extrapolation of what might happen, based on what I have seen.
DEDICATION: To Peridot Pooka, who listens when I ask stupid questions about Yu-Gi-Oh. As well as joins in on the temporary moments of insanity when debating the finer points of the episodes we watch. And because you're my best bud and I want you to stop harassing me to write you a Malik fic!!! ^_^
Resurrection
Chapter One
Malik collapsed to the ground, his strength gone. He had been defeated; Marik was driven from his consciousness and banished to the depths of the Shadow Realm. But Marik hadn't wanted him to live, simply refused him final peace and had managed to attach on to Malik's life force; which was now flowing away from him. He felt like his very essence was ebbing away faster than he could hang on to it. All he could see now were booted feet running in his direction. He may have been dying, but he did have to take care of one last thing before he passed on to be judged by Osiris.
"Hold on Malik, we'll get you help."
Yuugi's voice sounded faint, and extremely anxious and scared. He could feel his body…no, his mortal shell being lifted upwards by hands. Yuugi's face swan up into his blurring vision, and he was flanked by his friends, Jounouchi, Anzu, Otogi, all of them, all there to try to help him. After everything that he had done, and said to them, they were trying to save him. But he knew it was no good; he could already feel the cold kiss on his body.
"I'm very sorry for the things I have done. Tell Isis that I am grateful for what she's done and tried to do for me." Malik whispered in a soft voice. "Thank you Yuugi, for giving the only release left for a sinner like me."
He closed his eyes and smiled slightly as the coldness washed over his body.
The long hallways stretched out before him as he walked down it. He knew what lay at the end of this stretch; it was his eternal damnation, or even oblivion. He could…no, he would cease to exist and never again, could he be allowed into the Golden Fields to live out eternity in ease and comfort - not that he deserved it - or even reincarnated to move on and try to live a good life once more.
Once he stepped into the atrium, he felt a qualm of fear; and he was right to feel it. The other doorway stood right before him, a painting of Nut wrapped around it, her belly dark black and dappled with stars. On either side was an ibis; its delicate feet were picking a path across the blue water. And lurking in the papyrus reeds was a massive crocodile; its eyes seemed to gleam with hunger.
Malik repressed a shiver and stepped into the room. Thoth stood on one side, a stylus in one hand and a parchment of papyrus on a flat stone in the other, waiting to transcribe the events. In front of Malik and a raised dais were the scales, as well as the Feather of Truth, already on one side. Off to one side of the dais, Ammut was chained, eyeing him with a ravenous hunger that made his hair stand on end. He truly was going to end up in oblivion.
Seated on the dais, on a throne was a man, tall and imperious. His green skin seemed to cast a strange glow about the room, tinting his white crown and robes. A crook and sceptre were held lazily in his hands, which draped over the armrests.
"Approach, for I am Osiris and ye need be judged." He intoned solemnly.
Malik felt like his knees would knock together, but he stepped forward anyhow, managing to not show his fear too much. Osiris looked down at him from his black eyes.
"Long has it been since I have judged anyone," he spoke after a few minutes of silence. "Last to be judged was thine father. And now the son stands before me."
Malik simply hung his head, nodding his agreement. Oblivion was most assured now. Marik had certainly screwed him over in life and in death.
"Thine case is a rather strange one," Osiris mused as he looked over a papyrus roll, supplied by Thoth. "Two inhabited thine mortal shell?"
Malik simply nodded, too scared to say anything.
"Speak!" Osiris commanded. "Remaining mute does little to help thine case."
"Yes, two did inhabit my mortal shell." Malik said, his voice high pitched and squeaky.
Osiris watched him for a moment, the severe line of his mouth trying to tug upwards into a smile, which he was trying to prevent. "Better thou remain silent as thou had before." He scanned the scroll for a moment. "But the other came into being when thine darkest innermost desires were given form as a coherent entity born from a moment of loathing and rage."
Malik nodded his head once more.
"So, this is and isn't thou fault in a manner of speaking, for thou did attempt to halt it many, many times." Osiris regarded the papyrus gravely. "And how do I know that the false, evil one is not standing before me? His tongue was quick silvered and glib."
Malik felt white-hot outrage flow through him at that, but he held his tongue choosing not to answer. Whatever he uttered certainly wouldn't be pretty or help him much. Osiris watched him, intently, waiting for a response. When none came he nodded his head slightly.
"Bring forth his heart Thoth, that it may be judged."
Malik watched as Thoth produced a small heart, the heart that contained every record of his deeds and words, the heart that would damn him to the nothingness. He closed his eyes, knowing it was only a matter of time before Ammut devoured him. It seemed that he stood there for a painfully long time. When he finally hazarded a glance, he looked at the scales. His heart was perfectly balanced against the Feather of Truth.
"But…but…" he stammered out.
"We judge thine heart, Malik Istar. Not the heart that belonged to the evil that took up residence inside thou." Osiris said. "And as such, we have deemed thou worthy to go onto the Golden Fields."
Malik almost collapsed with relief from those words.
"However," Osiris rose from his seat and stepped down. "Since much of thine life was stolen from thou, thou may return to the mortal realm and live there. But I cannot guarantee thou the same judgement once thou pass through these halls again."
"The same judgement?" Malik asked in slight puzzlement. "I thought this was the same judgement everyone received."
"Thou was brought directly here, not having to pass through any of the trials and tribulations outside these walls." Osiris explained, standing in front of Malik. "Thou may go and live a fruitful life in the mortal realm, and thine record shall start from the day thou awaken."
"But how can I go back to the mortal realm when they've probably buried me already?"
Osiris' lips quirked upwards. "Thou has not been buried, but remains in a deep sleep. They come by everyday to see how thou fares."
Malik found himself speechless for a moment. "Can I see my father?"
"Thou may not," Osiris said quietly. "He is in the Golden Fields and cannot leave its sacred grounds."
Malik simply nodded and bowed his head. "Thank you, for this second chance."
Osiris made a sound in his throat as he placed his crook in the other hand. "Rare it is when I grant a second chance." He reached forward and touched Malik on the forehead, right between and above his eyes. "Waste it not, my child."
Malik's eyes flew open as he scrambled to sit up. Wires, tubes, blankets and the like tangled around him. He gave a cry of frustration and worry. He had to get out of here, he had to see Isis, explain to her of the second chance he was given. They could go back to living together peacefully and-
"Whoa, calm down!" hands pushed him back against the bed gently. "You'll hurt yourself."
Malik's chest heaved as he took irregular gulps. He looked over at the voice and found himself looking into a pair of extremely familiar eyes. The last eyes he saw when he had closed his own eyes. But they were on the wrong face. This wasn't the Yuugi he knew; Yuugi was short and had a rounder softer face.
The…man, seated on a chair by the bed, was much taller and had slightly sharpened features. It certainly wasn't Yami either.
"We were starting to think you would never wake up,"
Hell, the man certainly didn't sound like Yuugi. "Who are you?" Malik asked softly, wariness in his eyes.
"I'm Yuugi. Yuugi Mutou. Do you remember me?"
"Yes, I do," Malik said; he was more than confused now. "But…you were small, short. And your voice was…higher."
Yuugi chuckled sadly. "Yes, that was me when I was sixteen."
"Was?" Malik said.
Yuugi nodded. "You've been in a coma for the past five years."
"You're twenty one?!" Malik just about screeched. "What happened to everyone else?! Where's Yami?!" he thought for a moment. "Where's Isis?! I wan to talk to my sister! Where is she?!"
"Malik, just calm down," Yuugi said in a soothing voice.
"No!" Malik yelled at him. "Isis! Isis! Where are you? Isis!!"
Malik kept yelling all the while, trying to get out of bed, while Yuugi did his best to keep him in it and call the nurse at the same time. When she arrived, she swiftly prepared a shot while Yuugi held him down. Since when had Yuugi gotten that strong? Oh yes, five whole years can really change a person. Far beyond recognition, even. He tried to get Yuugi off of him, but his muscles didn't seem to want to work. It was like he was much weaker than he was before, though he could still move.
He shrieked in protest when the nurse jabbed his arm with the needle and injected a sedative into him. He glared as it took effect almost immediately, sinking back down onto his pillows.
"Are you sure he's going to be all right, Nurse Yuki?" Yuugi's voice sounded just as concerned as it had been that night. "And how could he work himself up so much, or even more? The doctor said his muscles should have atrophied."
"I'm not too sure." The nurse's voice sounded mournful. "I've given him some valium; that should calm him down. But he's lost five years in, what seems to him, an instant. It will take him quite some time to adjust Mr. Mutou. As to the muscles…after such a long period, the muscles would have certainly atrophied. …I can't explain it."
Malik simply closed his eyes. He'd lost five whole years in the blink of an eye. And now, he was so drugged that he found that thought insanely amusing. Maybe he should have simply gone on to the Golden Fields instead.
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