This is a YGO story inspired by the song 'Wretches and Kings' by Linkin Park, particularly the lyric; " [If you] Don't fight the power, nobody gets hurt". I just wanted to write a story that was a plain 'versus' fic between Pharaoh Atem; who I love so much, and Thief King Bakura; who I also love so much. Of course, there will definitely be love and couples and imaginary friends, there's no point in writing a fanfic if their's no love included, right? There will be Theifshipping and Revolutionshipping as well as Peachshipping and Vaseshipping, some love is unrequinted.
I plan to use every single main YGO character in this fic, such as Ryou, Tristan, Joey, Tea and more, assigning them a role in the Ancient Egyptian world with their future characters having nothing to do with it. Their personalities are to pretty much stay the same, although I've planed for Atem to be a bit of a jerk at the beginning, hopefully I'll get around to explaining his reasons.
I'll quit the typing and give you the prologue and chapter one, I hope you like it!
Wretches And Kings
Prologue: (Set in the past - Ancient Egypt)
There is a civilization that is feared greatly because of it's power and strength, these aspects have been proven many of times on the battlefield, and it lies in and amongst the dry and scorching hot deserts and plains of north-east Africa, one of the most lifeless habitats of all; however no matter how severe the heat may get, many foreigners believe that this is part of the locations beauty. Egypt. A mystical land full of mystery surrounding all types of magic, almighty Gods and rituals, a place plentiful of gold and value, yet despite this, it can be a cruel, desolate and dangerous place.
And a common civilian has two choices; to bow at the feet of their ruler or accept execution, after all, each descendant of the royal family is supposedly a God in the living flesh. The pharaoh, he can be who he wants to be without facing a single consequence; selfless and considerate when it comes to defending his people, or careless and greedy. But whatever way the ruler turns out to be like, there will always be opposition and a rebel that stands out from the hoards of criminals that are brought to his attention, in this case, that being is a man called Bakura Touzoku.
The good and the evil, the king and the wretch. This story is as simple as that, so which side do you think will prevail? Pharaoh Atem, Prince Yugi and their friends? Or Thief King Bakura and his secret weapon, the two-faced Marik, literally?
And of course, there will always be surprises.
After all, no one can really draw the line between just and unjust, good and evil; that line would be just too fine.
Chapter 1: Let The Sparks Fly
The room was lit dimly, the roof having collapsed in on itself and had became many broken lumps of rock scattered all around the place, only moonlight and the small flicker of a lit candle allowed a soul to take in their surroundings. A man sat within the bare room, the room had crumbling walls made of roughly cut rock and the ground was dust laden and dirty, sands particles covering almost every inch of it; the area was practically the perfect definition of a Ruin.
Said man was sitting on the floor, his back crooked to fit against the jagged stones in the wall, he was drifting a finger lazily in and out of the flame in a pathetic bid to entertain himself while he waited, his face was bereft of all amusement - emotion, to be precise. His stare was blank as the flame of the candle was reflected in his faded purple eyes and his limp, white hair was slowly shifting in the warm breeze that was making its way through the rectangle that was cut in the feeble and frail wall to the right of him.
However, once something such as a silhouette blocked the moonlight from casting its nightly glow through the window, the man's blank look was replaced with mild interest as he looked up, indeed, revealing a person to be there, the moonlight illuminating their back.
With a sly smile, he asked, "I take it you've thought over my request then?" The person proceeded to climb through the window and then approached the man, the long, black and hooded body garment covering every bit of their skin apart from the face.
"I have Bakura." he, the person answered. "And I will assist you."
"Ah," Bakura cocked his head in response; he gave the younger male a slight accusatory look through his sharp, white bangs as he sat there with his elbows upon his knees, "I haven't known you for that long Marik, what makes me think you aren't associated with the palace? I'm also very aware of your family's close relations with everything royal... your brother... your sister... I'm not some dumb shit who does no research on who I accept into my employment – if you want to call it that." Bakura rose to his feet to look down upon the less superior and Marik removed his hood to shake his blond shining hair into shape; Bakura couldn't help but admire it as the moonlight gleamed off of it. It shone like pure and untainted gold, maybe, that was if the boy decided not to join him, Bakura could cut it off and sell it as strands of gold, knowing how pathetically stupid the commoners and traders could get.
"It was you who took interest in me," Marik informed the thief, his lavender eyes shining mischievously; proving he was satisfied with arguing with Bakura. "I wouldn't be considering the offer if you hadn't have offered it." Bakura snorted but allowed Marik to continue, he could tell the younger had more to say. "And my only options in this offer were: 'accept or die', your exact words Bakura; It wasn't exactly an offer... it was more of a demand. So do you still think I've decided to come here to get you locked up?" Marik paused and shot Bakura a wit-fuelled glance. "Besides," The corner of his flawless, tanned lips hitched up slightly, a smirk so annoying that it made Bakura want to claw at his face. "I could have run for my life and you couldn't have hunted me down... What 'criminal' allows their hostages to leave? You couldn't be all that bad if that's the case." Bakura gritted his teeth. 'So the younger man thinks he's smart.' Bakura thought bitterly. Didn't Marik realise he was the only one to escape Bakura's clutches of Death that day?
With narrowed eyes, Bakura started clapping slowly and sarcastically at what he thought was the boys attempt to talk him down, his vision piercing Marik's orbs directly before he began circling the male to try and distinguish his dominance. He ignored everything the boy had said to him and let it slide - for now. Instead, he decided to tell the boy as to why he'd caught his eye. "I can sense it in you. Do you see it in yourself? I think I've found a great person to aid me in my deeds... You're young, fit and strong; and I require such a person to join me in my quest... I have a feeling that I will trust you more over time after you have performed a couple of less-than-subtle betrayals towards you sister and her colleagues." He stopped to look over the boy; it was obvious to Bakura that he was extremely well built under that garment of heavy clothing, of course, his muscles probably weren't as defined as Bakura's but they were pretty close. 'I will unlock your full potential and reveal your inner evil in good time.' Bakura thought to himself, he could sense the darkness within the boy; something Bakura was willing to pry out of his very soul. After he finished his short period of thinking, Bakura continued. "Also, I should probably inform you that I could kill you whenever I want... and once I see the first signs of betrayal; that will happen immediately. I will be rid of you... And I'll sell your hair."
Marik nodded in understanding at the man's words, yet he was intrigued by this thief and his intentions. "I've heard stories about you..." He begun, curious about the character before him; one major flaw in Marik was that he didn't know when to stop once he came across a touchy subject. Was this the ruthless Bakura he'd heard so many gruesome stories about. "Aren't you the last survivor of Kul Elna? That long gone village that was full of filthy, ruthless animals?"
Bakura tensed, his anger beginning to simmer; He hated it when people talked about Kul Elna that way. Many of the children within the village were innocent little beings who had yet to be influenced by their elders, including himself when he was that age... but what he saw as a child sculpted his future into something that could have been prevented, and it wasn't even the reputation of his father that had made him turn out like this - it was the Egyptian Authorities themselves; the ones that meant 'good'. Now Bakura was sure he was just like his father; his father was a criminal that was constantly on the run from the Royal Egyptian Army - the man had committed some the biggest crimes within the previous Pharaoh Aknamkanon's rule and was one of the 'most wanted' for poisoning Aknamkanon's sister only two days before she was due to be wed.
"So why... exactly am I still alive if you're that exact man in those stories?" Marik finished with slight hesitation, watching the man with caution at the same time. Apparently, Marik hadn't heard the thief's compliments beforehand but no matter, the thief explained himself, swallowing the lump in his throat that had developed as he thought about Kul Elna and his long gone family.
"What was the point of slaughtering someone who can fight back with acceptable ability and decency... Not many ordinary locals can do such a thing." The thief gave a slow satanic smirk, "You put up a fight while the rest didn't; I can see potential in you. I can even reveal that you stood out from the crowd."
Marik was silent for a second before he narrowed his eyes at the thief. "Did you kill all the rest?" The boy didn't know much more since Bakura had let him leave during the raid and capture of that village two days ago, he hadn't returned since the event.
"Why wouldn't I." Bakura retorted coldly with a shrug. "They were all pathetic excuses for a challenge. You on the other hand-"
"So all those people in that district were killed by you? Single handily, I mean." Marik asked, he wasn't exactly scared of the thief... Marik just found it hard to believe that Bakura could do such a thing on his own. Why would he even want to anyway? What could he possibly achieve from murdering random innocent people who meant nothing to him?
"Yes. That is; if calling my Dark Ones to assist me and burning houses to the ground count?" Bakura was now grinning at him, almost as if he were proud of his actions.
Marik stared at him slightly shocked. "You're bluffing." He said coolly, not letting the small shock factor become traceable through his facial expressions or actions. Marik wasn't sure what to believe anymore, he had heard many gruesome stories about this guy... but when you finally met him in the flesh, he looked nothing more than a slightly grumpy guy who looked like he'd just woke up; messy hair, half-dressed, nothing more, nothing less.
Bakura's eye twitched in annoyance. He wasn't sure if Marik knew how annoying he was being but Bakura was going to make him realise it. "Do I honestly look like I'm bluffing?" And in a blink of an eye, Bakura had swiftly drawn a sword from within his crimson coloured robe and his grin had turned into an impatient, irritated and angry scowl; his sudden action fuelled by all the annoyance and anger building within him, and the more he thought of Cul-Elna, the more tempting the thought of killing this boy became, it seemed almost legit for him to kill Marik just because his sister was a Guardian and his brother was a Colonel in the Army; the type of Egyptians who killed his family. "Do I look like someone who keeps my sword tidied away in my homestead? No I'm not bluffing. To answer the second question; No, what use is a sword when I can't access it at all times. Therefore I keep it on me all the time. It sometimes comes in handy for times like this; when idiotic people such as you waste my precious time!" he voice lowered until it was only a growl through his grinding teeth. The tip of the blade edged towards Marik's chest but the blonde didn't take one step back, he was only just registering that Bakura had pulled a sword out on him. "Look, boy... I don't have the time or patience for all this shit. You don't believe me? go to that village district and see their corpses for yourself!" As his anger grew, Bakura's eyes darted hungrily from Marik to the blade and back to the male. He found it hard to restrain himself; the want of seeing bloodshed overpowered his common sense, he was so sure something could've become of Marik, for some reason he continued to think that, you see, Bakura has a strange sixth sense, it was almost as if he could see the dark swirling abyss's inside people and he could feel a dark aura radiating from Marik but Bakura knew he had an obsession with destruction, and Marik had just ignited his hunger yet again. It didn't take long for the thief to come to a decision. "In fact, I'll just kill you! A pest like yourself shouldn't be burdened upon my Dark Ones!"
As Bakura tilted the sword and lunged forward to pierce his chest, Marik was quick to dart to the side and without thinking, he snatched the blade in his hands to stop it in its pursuit, its sculpted sharpness slicing deep into his palms. "You were incredibly stupid to think so little of me, Runt!" Bakura snarled as he yanked the weapon from Marik's soft hands causing the metal to cut his fingers as the sword retreated, although while doing so, Bakura noted that the boys grip was surprisingly strong. Marik let out a brief gasp of pain but he had to postpone his reactions in order to dodge a slash Bakura threw at him almost straight away. "You don't really know who you're pissing off, and what I am capable of!" Bakura assumed while making another careless stab at the boy, again he missed and Marik fell backwards onto his butt only to scramble away from him. This wasn't so much of a sword fight; it was more like some kind of target practice for Bakura, killing a person just because they got on his nerves. The usual - And his hunger; he needed to feed it.
"Stop!" Marik shouted frantically, he had just enough time to make it up onto his feet to block another slash; he blocked the strike with his forearms crossed and Bakura's sword tore the thick black fabric of his garment, eventually the force of the attempt made its way through to the tender skin of his arms, Bakura continued to apply force to his attack, the sword cutting into Marik's tanned skin as it slide down his arms, peeling it like a knife to a potato.
Bakura tingled with satisfaction as he heard Marik hiss in pain and he saw the blood trickle out from under Marik's shredded sleeves only to drip off his fingers.
Marik had now had just about enough; he was going to try - at the least - to fight back. Another slash charred the skin on his arms but this time the boy treated his arms like his own weapons; like one sword blocking another. He used them to direct Bakura's sword in a semi-circle towards the floor. As Bakura redrew his sword, Marik dived under his weapon and rammed himself into his knees; the white haired male stumbled backwards and dropped his sword as he used his hands to break his fall which was a rather stupid thing to do for a skilled and experienced fighter. The sword clattered to the side of both men and Bakura made a rushed attempt to scoop it up but Marik was quicker and had retrieved it just as the tip of Bakura's fingers touched the cool metal. In the next short moment Marik had the tip of the sword at Bakura's throat. Bakura began to growl fiercely over Marik's shaky and haggard breaths that were now filling the once again silent room; it seemed to Marik that Bakura was fearless, unlike Marik, he seemed to only feel anger, no fear, the growling was a clear indicator of that, there was a difference in snarling fiercely and staying silent to preserve your life.
"The odds have tipped in my favour, Bakura." Marik stated breathlessly, a victorious grin wiping away that frightened look that was previously on his face. Bakura's eyes were crossing as he pin-pointed the blade that was pointing just under his chin.
Bakura sighed and accepted defeat, his growling and snarling like a wild animal ceasing. "Fine boy. You reign victorious." He admitted venomously and reluctantly. Marik removed the blade from his throat and allowed the thief to stand; Bakura rose to his feet and dusted himself off before eyeing the boy; Marik still stood defensively using Bakura's sword to protect himself. The white-haired thief chuckled and took a step back. "I wouldn't have killed you, boy." he said, Marik tilted his head in confusion. "Like I've told you before... You are indeed skilled, you know so yourself." Marik still looked at him in bewilderment.
"But you looked so... desperate... to kill me."
"Consider it a test." Bakura told him, although the thief was slightly pissed that he hadn't got his kill. "However, you still must join my army of Dark Ones... You have no choice in the matter."
Marik raised his arm and straightened his hand, the sword getting closer to the thief as he improved his posture, a reminder of who had the advantage in this situation. "Are you forgetting I have your weapon in my hand. You have nothing to defend yourself with. You can't order or tell me what I must and mustn't do if you can't match my power... You can't fight back." Marik taunted before he began to ponder. 'Why is this guy so insistent that I should join him?' He asked himself. "Why do you insist that I join you?" Bakura began flaunting a wry grin, his eyes became shadowed by his bangs as he tilted his head forward. He didn't answer or respond to Marik and Marik was becoming impatient. "Answer me." Marik ordered, he only received slowly growing maniacal laughter. The younger clenched his teeth in irritation.
"Are you sure?" began Bakura, confusing the boy even further. "Are you completely certain that I'm powerless? Defenceless? At your mercy?" he asked with a melodic rhythm flowing within his words. "Could you be wrong?" he asked darkly.
"Cut the crap and let me leave." snapped Marik. "I won't join you. Not after all this!"
"Hmm." hummed Bakura as he watched Marik closely from under his white bangs, it wasn't a hum of thought, it was an inviting, unfitting soothing noise. It was the type of indicator to go on and elaborate on something.
"I only considered joining you because I'm sick of living in a house where no one gives a shit about me..."
"Go on."
"... I feel unwanted, stupid, alone, ignored... They're never around! When I was a child, I got so lonely that I even created a stupid imaginary friend! What good did that do me! Nothing! All he did was make my life even more unbearable."
Bakura was slightly confused as to what the boy was talking about, but getting upset over an imaginary friend? That was just childish and slightly crazed, nevertheless, Bakura still flashed his whites dangerously, he wasn't going to let this one get away with a free will, by the time he'd be done with the boy, Marik would either be a dark one or dead. "So why don't you join me? You'll never be alone. You'll have me, us. Your talent will be acknowledged and praised. You antics feared and-"
"No." Marik cut him off after taking a brave gulp.
Marik then spotted the pout that immediately appeared of Bakura's tan face. "As you wish." said the thief with a simple shrug and he raised two tanned fingers to his mouth and gave a loud whistle. "There's no reason for me to keep you alive then..." In a matter of seconds Marik could hear movement coming from outside of the walls. "Come forth my Dark Ones." Bakura chimed and their shadows appeared as expected, a couple of the hooded soldiers climbed the walls, followed by a cloud of falling dust as they cleared the walls with ease. A few more jumped through the small 'window' in an orderly fashion, one after another they surrounded Marik and the blonde had been so absorbed on the Dark Ones whereabouts that he hadn't noticed Bakura slipping in to join then. He had just lost his only form of blackmail.
"Who's got the upper hand now, runt?" Bakura asked, his tone once again changing to a more threatening and unfriendly one. Marik snapped his head in the direction of his voice; Bakura must have been playing a game with him... First he seemed neutral, then he turned on him, following that he'd became neutral again and now he'd become vicious once more, it was like the man could morph his personality into anything he wanted just to ensure his survival.
Marik didn't respond. Instead, he turned on the spot to look at every single dark one, where was the man in the crimson robe? Where had Bakura gone?
"So Runt, join me or die. Decide here and now, there's no escaping me either way." came the hoarse voice of Bakura before the maniacal laughter rose to the top of his chest again. Stepping out from behind his dark ones, Bakura ordered "Draw your weapons my dark ones." And they did so, all movements synchronized. Marik had never felt so outnumbered before, trying to save himself seemed hopeless.
Frozen on the spot, Marik let Bakura's cold sword slip from his fingers and clatter to the ground, his knees gave way and he buckled onto all fours, this wasn't a result of fear, he just couldn't find the will power, stamina or determination to fight anymore, his life was worthless. What was the point of fighting for something worthless, he'd committed so many sins, he was destined to guard tombs for the rest of his life from the likes of Bakura. So he'd given up. Why couldn't his imaginary friend be here now? His stupid, pathetic, worthless, weak, untrustworthy, tortuous made up friend, he'd been gone for years now, Marik was thankful for that but sometimes, just sometimes, he wished that the friend still existed for times like this, whenever he was actually needed. Placing his forehead against the dirt, he clawed at his beautiful blonde hair. "I hate my life!" came his muffled shout. "Just kill me, Bakura! Get it over and done with!"
Truthfully, Bakura stared at the boy as if he were mental. "You belong in an asylum." came Bakura's cold comment as he stepped forward to tower over the powerless male, doing nothing to harm him, instead, the thief bent down a plucked his sword from the ground. The comment didn't sting, Marik knew the man was right, he was insane to some extent and it scared him, who else had voices in their head, who else would peacefully fall asleep one night undisturbed, and the next day wake up to find blood on your hands, who?
'Foolish.' the word, no, voice surfaced from deep within his mind. Marik froze any movement he was making, his breathing slowing as his heart beat did the exact opposite. "No." Marik uttered as he began shaking, his face draining of all colour while his heart threatened to thump and break through his ribcage. "Not you." 'Foolish, you're foolish.' the voice repeated. 'I can feel and hear every plea you make Marik, we are one. You want me back, my help?' "Go away!" Marik shouted as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I was wrong!" This voice had been gone for so long that it now seemed so foreign, so frightening, so ghostly. A coldness gripped his spine at the thought of him returning. "You're insane!" Marik cried as he thumped his fists into the ground. 'But I'm part of you, Marik. I am the manifestation of your insanity, you're insane, Marik. Insane.' it taunted. "No, I'm not! I can't be! I know the difference between good and evil!"
Bakura backed up a little as he watched Marik react strangely to something. Unsure as to what was going on with him, Bakura watched as the boy buried his face in the dirt, a cold sweat coating his tan skin. "What is this?" Bakura growled. It seemed as if Marik were arguing with himself. Tightening the grip around his weapon, he decided to intervene. kneeling down, he slipped the sword along the sand and gravel and under Marik's chin, the coldness of the sword made Marik's lavender eyes snap opened, panicked, he looked at who was holding it. "Now rise." Bakura ordered. "Or I'll slit your throat!" Marik did what he was told, and pushed himself upright before slowly rising to his feet. Bakura removed the sword but was quick to entangle this strong hold in Marik's hair to keep him in place. Marik hissed at first, but was once again plagued by the voice. 'You said you knew the difference between good and evil, what is this?' The voice said in a mocking tone. 'He is evil - you are insane.'
Bakura stared into Marik's wide and distraught lavender eyes. "Help me..." he whispered his plea to Bakura but the man only knitted his eyebrows together in frustration.
"What is wrong with you!" Bakura shouted in his face.
Marik's eyes only began to water, his body heavy, shaky and fragile."It's the voice, save me from the voice..." Marik replied, his voice now only a fraction of a whisper and Bakura's grip loosened on his hair until Marik was completely free. "It's in my head and it won't go away..."
"What..." Bakura hesitated for a moment, he looked over the helpless boy one more time. "What can I do... to help?" Marik actually was insane, and for a second, Bakura felt remorse for what he'd said. At the question, a tear slipped out of Marik's eye and he finally collapsed into Bakura's arms, even though the thief stiffened at first, he finally sighed turned around and hauled Marik onto his back, he was most certainly not going to carry the boy home as if he were a damsel in distress, although it may have been easier.
Each dark one stared at him, awaiting orders. With his face going bright red, Bakura snapped, "One of you idiots fetch me my horse!" he directed a nod at the closest dark one to him and said in a bitter tone, "And you, for Ra's sake, help me shove him through the window!"
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! does not belong to me nor does anything else that relates to it, this Anime is pretty awesome though. Instead, the proud creator is Kazuki Takahashi and therefore everything belongs to this guy.
