In a quiet village, located in heart of middle-age France, stood a rather unusual man. His hair was a very pale blonde, but as the sun glinted down it seemed almost white. His skin was even paler, and it was noticeable compared to the faintly-tanned townspeople. He was obviously a foreigner.

The man glanced around in nervous hope- this place seemed perfect. He had just gotten off the family horse and was now checking on the small cart behind him. On the small cart lay several boxes containing all of his family's possessions. One box had started to open- he carefully began steadying the lid. His heart clenched as his gaze fell upon the portrait of two beautiful ladies- his late wife and daughter. He tucked the picture carefully back inside.

"Father? Can I come down now?" A tiny voice squeaked towards the traveler, breaking him out of his stupor. The man smiled reassuringly and reached up to his gentle, young son. He lifted the precocious child down onto the cobblestone street.

"Of course, Ryou. In fact, I think we might stay here for quite some time- what do you think?"

The pale boy looked around curiously. His wide, brown eyes seemed to glisten underneath his brilliant white hair. He wrinkled his nose in reluctance. The people here looked quite different, and the weather was much warmer here than it was in the Northern lands. The boy hesitated, looking around uncertainly.

But his face changed as soon as his father pointed out the local shops- or rather, one in particular.

"Look, Ryou- there's a nice bookshop over-"

The boy shot off like a white mountain rabbit. The younger traveler ran towards the bookstore, and his father had to laugh as he saw his son's face lighten considerably.

Ever since that horrible sickness had ravaged their hometown, taking his beloved daughter and wife; his only surviving child, Ryou, had been very sorrowful.

The move had been difficult on them both, but he knew the sweet boy would do better in a moderate-sized town with more children his own age.

The man tied up their faithful steed and ran after his surprisingly fast son. He chuckled as the boy stood in front of the book shop, all but drooling on the display window.

He had taught his son to read at a very early age- and now the boy was able to finish large books on his own; often in a matter of days. Thankfully, his father's work meant he often came across new books for Ryou.

For Yoshihiro Bakura was primarily a collector and dealer of vintage objects.

Although the man was considered nearly mad by most; his son saw his obsession with the past as an honorable calling. Or, as the elder Bakura often said, "History remains a mystery- unless we discover and preserve it."

Back in middle-age France, 'archeology' wasn't even a word, much less considered an appropriate career. As the two settled into a small but nice house, the neighbors soon spread the word around town about the odd pursuits of the 'junk-man.' The townspeople soon laughed at Yoshihiro and began whispering behind his back.

'He picks up old trash and keeps it!'

'He digs for garbage and dirt!'

'He thinks he's living in the past!'

Although his father did indeed bring home some... peculiar pieces (old pottery, ancient and rusted tools, and other oddities), he would also occasionally find something more valuable, like gold or modern weapons. Anything with a simple explanation (such as a modern mace) or 'common' (like flakes of gold) was sold, giving them a comfortable income.

In fact, he had once found a rather handsome dagger back near their old village. It was lying half-buried on a recent battlefield, and seemed fairly new. The blade shone marvelously, and the entire knife glistened with a variety of highly expensive jewels set in its golden handle. Ryou was fascinated by the glittering treasure, and begged his father to keep it.

But the dagger also bore the bold crest of the current royal family, and Ryou's father insisted that it belonged with them. So he planned a trip and together they returned the priceless artifact to the king himself.

The king was a kindly old man, with strangely spiked hair. He had lost his youngest grandson to the war, and the return of the prince's dagger was a bittersweet act. A few tears fell down the elder's noble face, but no one thought any less of the long-time ruler.

Young Ryou felt sorry for the royal leader, and before anyone could stop him, he ran up the steps of the throne and knelt by the king's side. He spoke with calming words, and spoke of the dagger as proof of the prince's bravery and spirit. The aged monarch was shocked when he realized just how much the sweet boy reminded him of his beloved second grandson's favorite retainer. Seeing such a similar smile lifted some of the heaviness weighing on the king's heart. Encouraged, he asked the boy if he would like to be shown the rest of the castle.

Ryou nodded eagerly, and the two began strolling through the large mansion together. The king was amused by the young boy's open-mouthed admiration of the tapestries and woodworks. Large, marble columns and glistening ivory sculptures lined every hall. The entire palace was absolutely breathtaking, but to someone like Ryou- who had been brought up to appreciate such things- it was beyond belief.

The company of such a lively youth gave the king back some of his valor. He felt some of his old noble spirit returning. The king enjoyed the rest of their 'tour' just as much as the energetic child- even managing a true smile once or twice. Sooner or later they made their way back to the throne room, where the king took his place and addressed the two fair-haired travelers. He was very grateful, and gave the elder Bakura an impressive reward for his actions. He also extended his gratitude on behalf of his son and his grandson's elder brother, who were away on a diplomatic mission.

"Ryou Bakura- if you should ever need a favor, kind little one, I would be glad to grant anything you ask."

The boy very politely accepted, bowing and voicing his acquiescence. "Contrariwise, I pledge the same oath, your majesty."

The king's eyes began watering at those words, and the kindly child noticed. He ran to the monarch and they hugged each other understandingly; both of them laughing and crying in shared joy and sorrow. Though they barely knew each other, their two hearts had borne the same grief and solitude. They eventually parted, and Ryou's father led his son out of the castle and to the stables where their horse was waiting.

As they packed their cart to leave, the boy began babbling non-stop about what he had seen in the castle. The older Bakura grinned as his wonderful little learner described everything in great detail, with huge words. Ryou continued talking even as they settled on the horse, still encouraged by his proud father.

It was nearly two hours later when the boy finally nodded off. The father was pleased that his son had made the journey, but little did he know that this excursion would scarcely be the biggest adventure in his brave son's life...