"I have a reservation. The name is Bakura."
"Let me see... Ah, yes, Mister Bakhura, here it is."
...
Bakhura's eyes snapped open. He gasped for air and threw his arms and legs out, struggling and writhing in the darkness. He choked and screamed, twisting round on himself. It wasn't exactly pain he was feeling, it was moreso an incredible intensity, his being completely unprepared to be so violently thrust back into existence.
He screamed again and clawed at the ground forming below him, the hard shape of bricks and the sliding abrasion of sand sifting into shape under his fingers. Bakhura quieted, panting and gathering his fingers around a handful of sand, staring at the stone-brick that was pouring itself into walls around him, raising around him a large, empty and dark cell with a narrow stairway leading up to the one door, twice his height above the floor.
Welcome back, a not-voice hissed.
Bakhura scrambled up to his hands and knees and cast around wildly for the not-voice, his eyes soon landing on a massive, black snake coiled in the center of the room, its head raised up and burning red eyes staring back at him. "S-Sek," Bakhura whispered, feeling weak suddenly and sitting down heavily.
You were out for a long time, Bakhura, the snake whispered and uncoiled, sliding across the floor, around Bakhura, part of the long, fluid body coming to rest over his lap, and put its face nose to nose with him. It's been about three thousand years.
"Th... thousand?" Bakhura repeated, not quite understanding.
The new Pharaonic line moved back to the old capitol, and all the memories of you and Kul'elna were buried over with sand. You were lost to time. Sek explained. But the vessel carrying the Lost Pharaoh's soul has finally chosen a host. The time has come to resume our game.
Bakhura stared back into Sek's smoldering eyes and after a moment made a few sounds, as though trying to form a word and forgetting it halfway through. "Ha- un- ff-f- y-y-yu- Sek w-woke me?" he finally managed to stammer.
No. And I can't wake you if you slip from this world again. You must find the one who woke you quickly, the snake instructed, and began moving again, sliding off of Bakhura and making an arch across the floor, toward the center of the room, his head twisting back to look at Bakhura expectantly. Quickly. Find the one who did it.
Bakhura climbed to his feet, his legs trembling and unsure below him, and staggered over to Sek. "B-b- d-don't- I don't know..." he said helplessly.
Before Sek could answer that another not-voice, very different from Sek's, drifted through his prison.
...er Bakhura, I hope you...
The not-voice faded into a soft, almost inaudible mumble that Bakhura realized he'd been hearing since he became aware of himself. "My name..." he whispered, staring upwards, where his cell faded into darkness before any ceiling could be made out.
Find him, Sek instructed.
He nodded slowly, and lifted his hands, not quite aware that he was doing it, toward the darkness above. The room began to tremble slightly as he tried to concentrate his scattered mind on finding.
...
Rattling. Metallic and coming from the alter chamber.
Shadi drifted into the room and looked down at the alter. The spines of the Millennium Ring had lifted out of their grooves and were shaking and rattling against the stone around them.
"... What do you want?" Shadi asked softly, knowing the Ring wouldn't answer him so easily. He stood still for a few more minutes, watching the curious movement, before crouching down and lifting the Millennium Ring out of the alter.
Once it was in his hands, the Millennium Ring's spines all turned themselves in the same direction, pointing. Shadi gazed in the direction they were pointing. All he saw was a blank sandstone wall, but beyond that, some miles in that direction, was a city of the modern age, real and populated. Shadi considered putting the Ring back and ignoring it. Chosen vessels were supposed to find their way into this hidden place, he wasn't supposed to deliver to them.
He sighed, it was a Millennium Item though, and even Shadi didn't truly understand them. He stepped forward and his foot came to rest within the city limits. He glanced down at the ring again as the spines adjusted their direction with the sudden change in position. He turned to the left and followed.
After a few minutes of walking, Shadi noted the spines twisting slowly to the right. Their target was moving. He adjusted and kept walking, monitoring the path the Millennium Ring was pointing out for him. When the spines very suddenly swung around to the left, Shadi paused and looked in the direction they were pointing.
His eyes were drawn to a foreigner wandering amid the crowd of locals. Shadi walked a wide circle, and the spines stayed locked on the foreigner. Shadi pressed his lips together and frowned softly. But the Eye had chosen a foreigner as well. He approached the foreigner slowly, keeping an eye on the Millennium Ring to make sure it hadn't been pointing to someone near the man. It was insistent upon the foreigner and the moment Shadi stepped within two paces of him, the Millennium Ring went limp, seeming to become a perfectly ordinary piece of sculpture.
"Excuse me, sir," Shadi called, touching the man's shoulder.
"Oh! Er, hello," the foreigner said, turning around and looking a little startled. "Can I help you?"
Shadi nodded. "I am a hem netjer* and the guardian of a number of sacred objects," he explained, holding the Ring out towards the foreigner. "This object was restless, and I followed it to you. It has chosen you to be its owner."
The man's expression had gone quickly from politely attentive to thoroughly unimpressed very quickly as he listened to the explanation. "No thank you," he said when Shadi had finished. "It's lovely, but I'm not looking for souvenirs right now. I don't have my money with me."
"I'm not selling it," Shadi replied.
The foreigner gave him a suspicious look. "What do you mean?"
"I don't want your money. The item has chosen you and it is my duty to turn it over to the care of the one it chooses."
Now the foreigner just looked baffled.
"I assure you that I am not attempting to fool you, sir," Shadi said, and extended his arm a little more, pushing the Ring towards the foreigner.
"I- er- well," the man gingerly accepted the ring and stared down at it, suspicion being replaced by puzzlement. "But I still don't understand..."
Shadi silently returned to the tablet chamber while the man was speaking, before his eyes had lifted from their confused inspection of the Millennium Ring.
...
The outside sound was gone. The Millenium Ring was packed away somewhere well-padded and hidden from the sounds and smells and feelings of the outside world. And that left Bakhura and Sek alone again, trapped in that eternal dungeon, but awake, alert, waiting.
Bakhura chewed on his thumbnail and stared into the dark room, trembling; maybe it was the just the cold, or maybe it was anticipation. Sek circled him, sat over his lap and draped around his shoulders. The time is coming to secure your revenge, Bakhura, the serpent hissed next to his ear.
Bakhura nodded. "Kemet..." he whispered. "... Destroy it..."
The kingdom is gone, Sek told him softly. The Pharaoh you faced before is all that's left of it.
"... Pharaoh…" Bakhura's eyes narrowed, his fingers slid against Sek's cold, slick scales. "... K-kill Pharaoh."
No! Sek snapped. He must not be killed before you have opened the gate. If you kill him, he is only one man, if you do as I say, all of Kemet will feel your wrath.
Bakhura nodded slowly and hugged Sek's body where it crossed his chest. It was icy cold and almost painful to touch, but it was his only companion, it always had been, and so he clung to it like a child to their mother's hand.
Be patient, Bakhura. You must collect the keys and locate the Pharaoh when he awakens, Sek whispered. And then Kul'elna will have its revenge. You have one key now, there are six more to find, and the last one will be with the Pharaoh.
He nodded again.
...
"I'm home!" Bakura Yasashiku called as he opened the door and then grinned with surprised delight to find his son already standing on the inner step, waiting for him. "Well good evening, Ryou! Were you a good boy for Grandma?"
"Ryou, don't you want to say 'welcome home' to Daddy?" Yasashiku's mother urged, lighting a hand on top of the boy's head as she came out from the kitchen.
Ryou stayed silent, as he had been since... but smiled at his father and held out his arms for a hug. Yasashiku rolled his suitcase inside and closed the door, then scooped his son up off the step into a big bear-hug. Ryou wrapped his arms around his father's neck and hugged tightly, not making a sound through the entire reunion.
"I brought you a souvenir, Ryou," Yasashiku said, balancing his son's weight against his hip and grinning at him.
Ryou tilted his head curiously while Yasashiku's mother laughed. "I have dinner ready for you, Shiku, you didn't eat on the plane, did you?"
"Nope, I'm starved!" Yasashiku said, putting Ryou back down on the step so that he could take off his shoes. Once in his house-shoes, he picked up his suitcase with one hand while Ryou caught the other and held it, and carried his suitcase upstairs to deposit in his room.
Yasashiku lifted the suitcase up to lay on his western-style bed and unlocked it. "Now hold on just a minute, I'll find your souvenir," he said, pulling out a stack of shirts and setting them down on the bed. Nestled right in the middle, between his shirts and his shorts, there was a blue paper bag with the top folded over neatly. Yasashiku pulled it out and squatted down next to his son, holding out the bag to him. "It's a mystical artifact!" he said with a grin. "I got it from a spooky priest, so maybe it's magical!"
Ryou accepted the gift with both hands and carefully pealed back the tape sticking down the folded-over part of the bag. He peaked inside and his eyebrows lifted with interest, then he reached one hand into the bag and pulled out a massive, ornate pendant.
"Is it okay?" Yasashiku asked, smiling at Ryou and petting his shoulder.
Ryou smiled back up at him and nodded, then stepped forward and gave his father another hug. Yasashiku laughed and lifted Ryou up again. He carried Ryou downstairs and made his way back to the kitchen where his mother was setting a meal on the table for him.
"What did Daddy give you, Ryou?" she asked, smiling at them and smoothing her apron. Yasashiku set Ryou down on his feet and the boy shuffled over to his grandmother holding up the pendant to show her. "That's very pretty, Ryou. I hope you said 'thank you' to Daddy," she said, straightening Ryou's hair a bit.
"He did," Yasashiku replied, sitting down at the table and picking up his fork. "Thanks for the delicious meal!"
Ryou had wandered behind the counter and Yasashiku could hear him rummaging through the junk drawer. A few moments later, the boy reappeared with a ball of kitchen twine and a pair of scissors. He walked over to his father and sat down hip-to-hip with him, almost making it difficult to eat, but the meal was mainly in small pieces and Yasashiku could manage his way through it without a knife, so he draped his left arm around Ryou and glanced down at his son between bites.
Ryou unrolled some of the twine and measured it, pulling it around behind his neck and holding the end in front of his chest, sliding it back and forth a bit until he seemed satisfied with the length. He then snipped it off the roll and knotted the ends together before slipping them through the top of the ring-pendant and looping them in place. He hung the lanyard around his neck and then looked up at his father, smiling.
Yasashiku chuckled and ruffled Ryou's hair. "It looks good on you," he affirmed.
Ryou smiled a bit wider and leaned against his father's side. Yasashiku curled his arm around Ryou's shoulders and smiled as he finished his supper. Even with Ryou's continued unnatural muteness, he felt serene and contented at this moment.
When he finished eating, Yasashiku looked down to see that Ryou had fallen asleep, slumped against him, the fingers of one hand curled around the large, metal ring, and the other balled around a bit of his father's shirt. Yasashiku smiled. "He must be all tired out," he said.
"That's odd," his mother said, pausing in her scrubbing of the rice-cooker to cast a concerned look over the counter. "He had a nap this afternoon, and I didn't think it was an especially strenuous day... I hope he didn't have a bad dream that kept him up last night."
Yasashiku's smile faded a bit as he stroked a hand through his son's hair. If a grown man was still having nightmares, what must it be like for a child? He shook that thought away and carefully gathered Ryou up into his arms. "I'll put him to bed," he told his mother quietly.
...
Ryou felt strangely cold. Not that it was strange that he was cold, but that he was cold in a very strange way he couldn't quite place. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be lying down, which was also strange because he didn't remember falling asleep. And then there were the voices.
Perfect, said something that wasn't exactly a voice. This will be an ideal vessel.
"... K-kid," something that sounded much more like a normal voice responded in a doubtful tone.
No, this is a fine age, he'll be infinitely more trainable than an adult, and he will grow quickly enough, the not-voice assured the mumbling one. He is perfect.
"M-mm," reluctant assent.
Ryou lay very still. It must be a dream, because he'd been at home before he appeared here, so he must have fallen asleep. That was disappointing because he'd wanted to stay up later and play with daddy, but at least he knew he had to be safe. Daddy was there. So this was just a bad dream.
He felt fingers gingerly land on his face, but in that same moment he felt so many other things that the minor touch was almost drown out. Anxiety. Doubt. Anger, so much anger. Impatience. Need. Loss. Helplessness... Ryou gasped and opened his eyes, shocked by the sudden burst of emotions pouring into him. Someone above him, the owner of the voice that was a voice, gasped in unison.
They were somewhere dark, very dark, and cold, maybe just a little damp or maybe that was only the cold. Ryou was laying on his back, staring up at someone, a stranger, crouched over him, startled and frightened just like Ryou. The stranger let out a scared little whimper.
Be calm, Bakhura, the not-voice whispered. It's just the bond.
Ryou cautiously sat up and turned his head, searching for the source of the not-voice, and he suddenly found himself nose-to-nose with the biggest snake he had ever seen. Ryou's eyes widened. It was even bigger than the snake at the zoo, and there wasn't any glass separating them. And unlike the one at the zoo, which had been criss-crossed with basket-like patterns of warm, soft browns and yellows, this one was blacker than new dress-shoes.
Ryou gasped again, terrified, not just by the fact of their being a hugely giant snake next to him, but also by its glowing red eyes, like some horrible demon. He scraped his heels against the sandy stone floor, pushing himself away from the reptile and scrambled backwards just a short distance before he bumped into the stranger, whom he'd almost forgotten about.
The stranger let out a terrified squeak, and Ryou could feel his panic, which only served to make Ryou more afraid. The stranger grabbed Ryou and clung to him, which startled Ryou even more. Ryou turned his head and looked up at the stranger, confused. His first impression had been that the stranger was an adult, someone who would surely be in control of the situation, but now he was behaving like a small, frightened child.
Do not let yourself be drawn in, Bakhura. He's only a child. You are stronger than him.
It had been a year and a half since someone had clung to Ryou like that, since he'd been a big brother. No one had sought out Ryou's hand for comfort or security when crossing the street since the accident. No one had come to him tearful in the night after a bad dream, whining to sleep in his bed. No one had wailed their woes of the kindergarten social hierarchy to him. But somehow, this stranger, whom Ryou had taken for an adult, was clinging to him as though asking to be protected, just the way Amane would have.
And for some reason, that made Ryou feel stronger. He reached and caught the stranger's hand, pushing himself to his feet and tugging at the stranger to follow.
Bakhura... the snake hissed in a warning tone.
Ryou ducked down grabbing a handful of sand and throwing it at the snake as he started running, pulling the stranger behind him. The snake made an angry shriek that Ryou was pretty sure snakes shouldn't be able to make. Ryou didn't look back to see what it was doing, he just ran, dragging the stranger to the precarious little stairway wrapping around two sides of the room, leading up to a door.
Bakhura! Stop! the snake shouted behind them.
Ryou told himself not to look back and climbed the stairs as quickly as he could. The door at the top looked like the kind of thing that would be locked, but Ryou was determined to be brave, and he wished as hard as he could that the door was unlocked. And then suddenly it was swinging open, before he'd even reached it. He heard the stranger gasp and felt a jolt of shock that belonged to the stranger.
STOP!
Ryou dragged the stranger through the door. He turned around after he'd pulled the stranger through and pressed his hands against the door, pushing at it. He could see the snake moving up the stairs, seeming to have some difficulty with the steps but still making headway. Ryou pushed as hard as he could on the door, which was dragging slowly, reluctantly, not closing fast enough. Then the stranger's hands landed next to Ryou's and the door swung shut under their combined weight, cutting off a loud, angry howl from the snake.
Ryou panted, his hands still pressed against the door. He felt damp with cold sweat and his legs were shaking. A strange giggle broke through the semi-silence and Ryou looked up to where the stranger was leaning against the door. The stranger let his knees buckle and slumped down to the floor with one shoulder and his head pressed against the old-looking wood. Ryou just watched him as he tried to catch his breath.
After a few minutes, it suddenly occurred to Ryou to wonder why it was lighter here than in the stone room. He turned away from the door to find another door right across from it. This door was entirely different from the scary, big, wood and metal one they'd just come through. This door was made of paper and light-colored wood, just like in Grandma's tatami room. Ryou considered it for a moment and then pushed away from the scary door and took a step towards the paper one.
A hand caught his and he looked back at the stranger. He was afraid; he was afraid of Ryou leaving him, of being left alone. Ryou wasn't sure why he knew that. He glanced at the paper door and then back at the stranger. He pointed to the paper door with his free hand.
The stranger's eyes followed his pointed finger and only then seemed to notice the paper door. He was cautiously curious now too. He pushed himself to his feet, without letting go of Ryou's hand, and followed as Ryou slid the door back and looked inside.
There was a tatami room inside, like Grandma's, except that it was much messier than Grandma's ever would have been. There were toys and books and pillows on the floor, like in the after-school day care room. Ryou wandered inside and explored the new room; the stranger continued to cling to his hand, and shuffled nervously after Ryou.
Ryou found a stuffed cat on the floor and he bent down to pick it up. He turned his face up to the stranger and held out the cat. The stranger was confused. Ryou gave the cat a one-armed hug to demonstrate and then pressed it to the stranger's chest. Reluctantly, the stranger let go of Ryou's hand and took the cat, hugging it warily, as though worried it might bite him, but once it was safely in his arms, they tightened possessively around it.
Ryou smiled at him, settling down on the floor and looking up at the stranger expectantly. The stranger gave him a startled look and took a step back, before very slowly crouching down and sitting carefully on the tatami, facing Ryou and looking suspicious. Ryou smiled gently and patted the stranger's knee, showing him that it was all right now, they were safe. The stranger slowly relaxed, the stuffed cat squeezed against him.
...
...
*Hem netjer- A priest whose primary function is to serve gods/goddesses and see to their needs.
Cultural Note: The reason Bakhura had disappeared when the old city was abandoned is that the people continuing to talk about you or read about you is vital in the Egyptian afterlife. Thus why Pharaohs put their names on everything and why heretic Pharaohs got their names scraped off of stuff.
Author's Note: So chapter six of FE is six and a half pages now and I've hit a little transition clog, trying to figure out how to wrap up that party and cross it off my list. Mainly in the "Shit, I have to kill about 10 hours now before I can attach the ending and I just made shit really awkward so it would be stupid to just throw it back into tourism mode…" So that's where I am, progress on FE is still chugging along while I'm posting all these other bits, it's just got cramps or something.
Shanananana- Oh, so- I originally started this fic shortly after I wrote Making Choices, and once again, of course, I planned it as a one shot and then got all mad when I noticed that I was 17 pages in. So I've broken up my timeline a bit, but I still hope this won't end up as epic as Interlude or FE. So more recently (this week) I reread what I wrote back in the beginning of summer and went "Geh! This is dumb and won't fit in the 'verse anymore!" So only two of the scenes here (the last two) are taken (and modified) from what I originally wrote, and the rest are new.
I'd say that the biggest modification I made was in Bakhura's speech. When I originally wrote it, I gave him a level of lucidity more like the he has in Deal with the Devil, so he was confused and switching sentences halfway through and being generally wiggy. My interpretation of his mental state at this period has changed a bit through the course of Interlude and FE- and in chapter two of FE I described Bakhura having been in a much rawer state when he first met Ryou. So I decided I wanted to give him more the emotional and behavioral responses of an abused dog rather than the ability to reason (even if it's paranoid or crazy reasoning) associated with a human. Ryou's trauma-muteness, on the other hand, was part of the first draft, and now I'm kind of terrified that I've set myself up to write this fic with next to no dialog. Shit! That's going to be hard!
