Hi! This is a place where I make plots and one-shots that are open for adoption or might be taken up by me in the future. The rules for using these are the same general rules for my challenges, which you can see on my profile. Hope you enjoy!


Thief of Shadows and Dragons

Mornings.

A natural phase of the day when the sun would rise and start its cycle across the heavens, illuminating all that was under it. Mornings began the start of daily life, for both animals and humans alike, from the lowliest peasant to His Divine Highness, the Pharaoh, himself. Mornings symbolized rebirth, new beginnings, fresh starts. It was a way for the gods to say "Time to venture forth into the world once more."

However, there were a few that did not appreciate the first rays of the sun and preferred to stick to the shadows of the night. For example:

'Uhh…damn you Khepri! Why couldn't Ra summon you later on after a good night's sleep?!'

This particular complaint came from an individual that was propped up against the wall of a small cave, hollowed out in the sandstone, deep within the desert, across the golden dunes. He wore a flowing red robe that was open at the center, exposing his tanned, muscular chest to the open air. A white kilt covered his waist and upper legs and worn-out white slippers were worn on his feet. He lifted his arm to try and block the light that was streaming from the mouth of the cave to no avail. He groaned as he turned his head back to try and return to sleep, his long, white hair rustling with him. He closed his eyes and tried to re-settle into a comfortable sleeping position, but the warmth that came from the light kept nagging at his body. A few minutes later, he groaned in protest as he got up from the sandy floor.

The teen – for he was one, despite his looks – lolled his head to the sides as he began stretching, effectively getting his muscles in working condition again. As he stretched, his bones clicked and fingers crackled. A few minutes later, he turned around to shoot a nasty glare at the offending rays of sunlight. He then sighed and picked up a large sack which he swung over his shoulder. At last, he stepped out of the cave and raised his hand to shield his purple eyes as he squinted. The teen scowled as he felt the heat of the desert hit him full force. He smacked his lips as a familiar sensation started to surface: thirst.

Now, any sane person will tell you that being thirsty in a desert is a bad thing. A person who lives in the desert will tell you that being thirsty in a desert is a very, very, VERY bad thing. For in this harsh land made from the gods' wrath, the gift of water was sometimes worth all the gold in the kingdom. Every drop you could get in a canteen was worth the effort of searching, buying and…liberating.

Fortunately for the teen, he knew just where to get some water.

He currently stood on a rock shelf in front of the cave's entrance. The sandstone hill stood high behind him, but it wasn't anything particularly challenging to climb. So, he turned around and climbed to the top of the hill in a few minutes, with nimbleness seen only after years of training. Soon enough, he found himself on the top of the hill, looking across the vast desert.

At first glance, he wasn't a very tall or intimidating individual, standing at around 2 nebu and one mahi. (1) His red cloak was dirty and torn around the sleeves, dulling the vibrant color. His white hair fell beneath his shoulders, obscuring his forehead. But it was the eyes that made you take a second guess. They were purple, and a long 4-stitched scar was under his right eye. They possessed a dangerous look to them, like a predator watching from the shadows.

The teen was looking down at a small oasis village. Stone buildings formed a circle and were divided by a long road. He could see people moving around the village, going about their daily lives. A small pond lay near the village, its bright waters starkly contrasting the dull colors of the desert.

His throat felt dry as he stared at the pond. 'Better get something to eat or drink.' With those thoughts, he descended the hill.

He soon arrived at the main road of the village. The sight he had seen from above was now more detailed. Stalls aligned both sides of the road as vendors and merchants called out to sell their products. Men, women, and children moved about from stall to stall, from house to house, enjoying the merchandise that was offered to them. Their white skirts and clothes gave them minimal protection from the sun's heat. Not that he cared for all of this. He was thirsty and hungry. Where was the tavern?

He looked around until he saw a drunk man stumbling out of the stone huts, a stone mug dripping with beer in one hand. 'Well, that was easy'.

He walked to the hut and entered it. He was greeted by the sounds of drinking and laughing and the sight of several men eating bread and fish. Their expressions were hearty as they prepared themselves for the day by eating breakfast. The sight just made him grunt. How can anyone be so cheery in the morning?

He walked to the counter where a burly looking man stood, pounding at something with a mortar and pestle. The teen reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a gold coin, which he placed on the counter. "Bread and water."

The tavern-keeper gave him a quick look before dropping the pestle and grabbing the coin. He reaches under the counter and pulls out a small loaf of bread and a bowl of water. The teen nods in thanks and begins eating.

After drinking the last drop of water, he pulls out another coin and places it on the counter. "What new do you have?" he asks in a whisper.

The tavern-keeper looks at the coin with a glint of greed in his eyes but didn't so much as twitch. He lifted the pestle and started pounding again before whispering back: "There have been whispers...about a find north of Ta-Set-Neferu, the Valley of Queens."

The teen didn't budge as he kept listening to the man's words. "Someone managed to find the entrance, but he had to leave because of a royal guard patrol. Apparently, it's a hidden tomb, unmarked in the royal records…said to hold one of the pharaoh's daughters."

The teen gripped his bowl as the name sent a wave of anger down his body. 'Pharaoh…'

To this day the mention of that title disgusted him. The others may all worship him as a god on earth, but he knew the truth. He was just another man, corrupt and wicked in his soul. To this day he remembered the screams. The fire. The blood. The horror. All for what? Some magic gold.

He will never forgive that man, even if he wasn't there. He would find a way to humiliate him, hurt him, and if he could, kill him. Robbing the grave of his predecessor's daughter? That seemed like a good plan. He lifted his head, his purple eye staring at the tavern-keeper's as he asked in an emotionless tone: "Where can I find this man?"

"He's actually sleeping here upstairs. Come back an hour later and he should be up."

The teen nodded and got up, heading towards the entrance with a small smirk on his face. This new job has the scent of a challenge on it, and he loved a good challenge. The tomb would probably be hidden well and guarded with all manners of traps, both sorcerous and subtle. Only a madman would enter a tomb like that.

For the King of Thieves Bakura however, this was just a normal day.


'Pfft. I take back what I said. A challenge? I could've done this in my sleep.'

Bakura was scoffing to himself as he stood in front of the last doorway, holding up a torch. It wasn't even that hard coming here. First of all, the man at the tavern had talked rather easily, after a little bit of persuasion of course. He was given a map with an approximate marking of where the tomb was supposed to be, and the man left with his new...investment holding a mug of beer. Then it had been the simple matter of riding 2 days to the Valley where there were little to no patrols. Either they were getting lazy or he was lucky. Maybe both.

The traps had been even more of a joke. For the supposed daughter of a pharaoh, a former princess of Egypt, her tomb was rather under-protected. The traps were mediocre at best, something any competent thief could bypass. There maybe was a decent misleading corridor, but to Bakura, it was a simple issue that barely took a minute.

'The more traps I disable, the more I am convinced this princess was maybe a bastard daughter, for her father to leave her final resting place like this. That, or she died running off with a boy that he didn't like.'

The white-haired teen unconsciously rubbed a gold coin in his pocket, one of the few he had found on the way here. He looked at the doorway's frame as he tried to read the inscriptions written above. He may have been born a peasant, but his line of work demanded that he learn to read something other than basic hieratic. Namely, the royal hieroglyphics that appeared in each and every tomb that he had robbed. The clues and knowledge that they held were too great to ignore and resulted in the downfall of many common thieves. As it stood though, nothing seemed too suspicious. Just the basic warnings and inscriptions that appeared on many tombs.

He walked in and smirked at the sight laid out before him. Lying behind a sand-covered stone court was a golden sarcophagus. Treasure chests and statues flanked its sides, the torch's fire reflecting off the gold with a soft glow. The court itself was empty, not that he was surprised.

'Well...looks like daddy did care, after all, to go to such lengths to trap this particular room. Most thieves would rush in, blinded by the ease of the previous traps, trying to grab the gold. Very clever pharaoh. Unfortunately for you...'

He pulled out his hand and walked to the stone court. He had taken three steps on it when he heard a soft 'click'. A gust of wind blew around him as the sand started to clear, revealing a stone tablet. On the tablet was a carving of a clawed, rotten-faced monster.

The wind blew with greater intensity as a black shadow rose up from the carving. The shadow grew until it stood a head tall over Bakura. Then it began to twist and take shape.

A few seconds later, the very monster that was inscribed was standing before Bakura, claws poised to strike at the intruder. But Bakura didn't even so much as flinch. Rather, the grin on his face grew until it looked sadistic. The monster screeched and leaped towards him, claws extended.

'...the King of Thieves doesn't get fooled by such tricks.'

Just as the monster was about to pierce his torso, it stopped dead in its tracks as a purple claw stuck out of its chest. The monster let out a silent squeak before collapsing to the floor and fading in a gust of shadow. Behind where it stood was a black, shadowy shape - three black horns on each side of its face, a blood red torso and a glowing orange set of eyes and sinister jaws.

Right on cue. "Wasaw Nari - Fear from the Dark, return to me."

The demonic creature crooned as it melted into a puddle of shadows and slithered under him. Bakura kept smirking as he approached the sarcophagus. 'The Pharaoh and his priests are not the only ones that can summon ka. Their arrogance is, once again, their downfall.

Besides, that was a Gernia. Even a novice magic user could take care of that.'

He reached the sarcophagus and began inspecting the area. 'Nice, very nice. Ought to keep me on my legs for a good while. No jewelry though, that's odd for a princess.'

He lowered the torch and Nari's demonic hand shot up from the ground and grabbed it, letting him feel the sides of the sarcophagus for any out-of-place indents or markings. This was a royal tomb, and if the father placed a ka spirit to guard his daughter, then he should have locked the sarcophagus as well. Sure enough, after feeling and poking around, he pressed a hidden button. A loud click was heard and Bakura nodded to himself. Time to see what Her Highness was hiding.

He got up and pushed the golden to the side, the weight of the object doing little to deter him. The lid fell to the ground with a thud and Bakura peeked in, only to blink in surprise.

Lying on the second lid was a small black tome. Its cover was marked with gold hieroglyphs and an odd purple crest sat at the center, with a small red gem crowning it. What was that and what was it doing here?

He dropped a gold coin on it and backed up, only to peek back when nothing happened. 'First check complete, time for check number two.' The white-haired thief muttered something under his breath and raised his hands. A shadowy aura grew around them a few seconds later, and he reached down and grabbed the book.

'Second check complete. I'm not detecting anything here so let's see...'

He lifted the cover, which did so with no resistance (to his surprise), but he was shocked at what he saw: nothing! The tome was blank!

Frowning in confusion and frustration, Bakura flipped over more pages to see if there was anything else, but to no avail. The pages remained blank. However, it was when he reached the back cover that something strange happened.

On the back cover was a single set of hieroglyphs. Bakura peered closer and tried to read them.

"...world?"

Suddenly, a purple light burst from the book, hitting Bakura directly in the face. He closed his eyes and tried to drop it, but his hands were seemingly glued to it.

"What's going on!? What is this magic!?"

The chamber was filled with the purple light and a roaring sound was heard. A minute later, the light vanished, leaving the burial chamber as it was with one exception; there was no Bakura.


This is the opening to a story idea I call "Thief of Shadows and Dragons", a crossover between Yu-Gi-Oh! and Inheritance Cycle, based on Masterdude21's "When Destiny Burns".

Here, Bakura the King of Thieves (before his attack on Atem and his Ka spirit is Fear from the Dark - Diabound is formed as a result of Kul Elna's collective hatred) finds an old magic tome that teleports him to Alagaesia. He finds himself with the tome in hand and inside a hidden chamber where he spots a large black jewel. Entranced by it, he snatches it and escapes from the city. When he gets far enough, the jewel is revealed to be an egg that hatches for him, revealing a black dragon(ess) inside. He wanders around with the lizard in tow as he slowly learns Egyptian spells from the tome, which are revealed to him in random periods. He hears of the Varden and the dragon riders, as well as rumors of another dragon rider, but he isn't interested.

He eventually stumbles on the shores of the Az Ragni River, where he meets Eragon - the Varden's rider and his dragon Saphira, Arya the elf and Orik the dwarf. They see his dragon and persuade him to join their trip to Ellesmera. From there, the tale shall unfold...


(1) Units of measurement in Ancient Egypt; in total 172cm.