I said I wanted to finish this before the semester ended. I need to get cracking if I want to complete that goal!
In case you haven't noticed, this story is my main priority fic-wise. Buuuut that doesn't mean I'm not thinking of my other stories. I've been avoiding PJO because I don't want to write a battle scene and the early chapter of AFtR are kinda boring to write because it's a slow start. I'll get to them though.
I still have poll on whether you guys like Murzix and Azazel in my profile! Go check it out!
Six more chapters to go!
Thank you everyone who has reviewed or looked at my story! I really appreciate it. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO.
Chapter 9
Power Struggles
The sound of arguing once again found its way to Ryou's ears. He opened his eyes slowly and groaned softly, a migraine beating at his head. His whole body was sore and he refused to move, knowing that if he tried it would only make his muscles hurt even worse. The thought of not knowing where he was briefly crossed his mind and he was struck with a moment of pure terror, forgetting what happened before it clicked that he was in the Shadow Realm, grey and blue smoke-like fog rising and falling in an untimed dance confirming and jogging his memories. A dark figure swiftly jumped over him, the silhouette of the Celtic Guardian briefly hovering above his head before dashing away. He closing his eyes fleetingly and braced himself before slowly shifting his body to a sitting posing, his muscles and head yelling at him for moving. He winced at the pain, but dared not to cry out as he surveyed this new part of the Shadow Realm.
Out of all the areas he and Malik were in, this once seemed to be the most… friendly, if you could call it that. The fog was transparent instead of opaque and the atmosphere was a bit warmer. Yes, this area was Ryou's favorite by a long shot. In the distance, roughly eight yards in front of him, he saw the profiles of Malik and Bakura arguing, both waving their arms in frustration. He couldn't make out their words, but they sounded much crosser than last time. He sighed and clutched his head when the migraine objected to his mild head shaking.
What happened the other day? He thought, trying his best not to anger his already upset head by thinking too hard. He checked him internal clock and resisted widening his eyes from shock. I've been out for five days? What the bloody hell happened?
The only way to find out was to ask the people he was with. He took a deep breath and slowly stood up, ignoring the sharp pains from his arms and legs. Once standing, he walked at a paced rate towards Malik and Bakura.
I feel like a sloth, he thought, almost smiling. He looked down briefly, making sure his footing was stable, and halted. How did he not notice before? A dark purple aura pulsed and bended around his body; how did that get there? He glanced at his hand, the aura moving and bending however he positioned his hand and fingers. As this happened, he realized he was suddenly hyper-aware of the Shadow Realm. He could feel it move, how the shadows bended and twisted, where certain monsters hid, where certain portals were. He couldn't feel the shadows as a whole, but he could feel the immense hidden power that they held. Where had this sudden realization and illumination come from? His sore body tensed and rippled almost like the shadows slinking at his feet. His head pulsed with the movement of the Shadow Realm. What was going on?
Ignoring the protestations of his aching muscles and the sudden intensity of his angry migraine, he sprinted.
/…\
In the five days that Malik and Bakura were forced together, they spent four of those days bickering about almost everything. The first day they travelled in complete silence. Ryou's soft snoring was the only sound other than the general wind and sometimes Shadow Breathers or Duel Spirits. The silence was good. All Malik had to do was follow Bakura.
The middle of day two was when the arguing started. Malik grew tired of following Bakura who claimed he was leading them to a portal in Egypt. How the hell could he trust a lying, cheating, five-thousand-year-old thief? So Malik opted to take lead and go to a portal he new quite well: the Bermuda Triangle. Bakura thought that to be a stupid idea and fighting escalated from there. They argued from who knew the Shadow Realm better, to who was the better duelist, to who has done worse deeds (that one didn't make Malik feel too good about himself and after two hours of arguing over that he shut up). They even quarreled over mundane things like how to pronounce "pecan" in English, to Coke vs. Pepsi, to the economy. Many times the fighting moved from language to language, the most common ones being Japanese, English, Arabic, and Ancient Egyptian. They argued so much it was stupid, but without Ryou as neutral territory, they couldn't help it. The intense hatred they felt for each other just couldn't be kept silent. Malik even admitted that sometimes they just seemed to argue over the sake of arguing, but it didn't help that they baited each other and neither could help but take the bait. However, no matter how much they argued, they never split up, a silent consensus that the best thing to do was to stick together, no matter how painful it was.
On the fourth day, a wormhole triggered under their feet and they slid to a seemingly nicer part of the Shadow Realm. Malik refused to let Bakura carry Ryou—not that Bakura would want to—and with a four-day-old sore back, gently placed Ryou on the ground and stretched. He stared at the Brit and cocked his head, noticing a dark but thin aura radiating around him. Malik lifted his hand and observed his own aura, the color similar to Ryou's, if not a few shades darker. He moved his eyes to Bakura's back, the aura swirling around him very thick and almost black. Shadow Auras weren't something that Shadow Users talked about that much, just observed. They were only visible when the User allowed it to be—or if you were in the Shadow Realm—and really were just a way to flex the muscles. Yugi had one, but it was quite pale compared to Ryou's, however they were the same size. The pharaoh's had a red tint mixed with the purple—almost like his eyes—and was about the same size as Bakura's, maybe even bigger. Ishizu's was bluer, Odion's a deep purple, and Marik's… Malik didn't want to think about his darker half. Even Kaiba had a blue aura whether he wanted to notice it or not.
Malik sighed deeply and sat next to Ryou, looking at his sleeping friend.
"I am so sorry, Ryou," he said quietly.
He got up and walked away, lost in his thoughts of returning home when a sudden idea came to him.
"Bakura," he said gruffly.
"Yes?" Bakura drawled, a bored look on his face.
"I have something I need to take care of," he said, keeping his face guarded.
"And why should I care?"
Malik snorted and rolled his eyes. "Just… never mind." He walked back toward Ryou and sat crossed-legged next to him. "Don't touch either of us."
Bakura gave him an I-would-not-dream-of-it-you-idiot look and turned his back again. Malik grumbled a few choice swear words before concentrating his thoughts.
/…\
Three days had come and gone before his beloved trio had even started journeying to their destination. Azazel entertained himself by observing Malik, Ryou, and Bakura arguing from the safety of Murzix's castle, which the magician was back to concocting things in his cauldron, Wioqu flying about and getting him ingredients in between cleaning the castle. Azazel was beyond relieved that their "audience" with Zorc was over. He sighed and his tie lazily swerved so the end almost touched his nose.
"I know, Yamanu, I know," he said, pushing his tie aside.
When Murzix said that an "old friend" wanted to have an audience with them, his stomach almost dropped. Zorc was always out to ruin his plans because they weren't "relevant" or didn't help in "the grand scheme of things." Hell, Zorc didn't even rule over them, yet he continuously attempted to command the two of them to do things. If there was one thing that Azazel and Murzix agreed on, it was that Zorc was a huge prick.
"Shall we get this over with so we can return to our prior engagement?" Murzix said tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Azazel didn't speak, but opened a portal. He gave Murzix a stern look. Murzix returned it and snapped his fingers, Wioqu appearing at his side. The little orb quivered in fear, but didn't object coming with his master. Wordlessly, the pair stepped into the portal.
"Really? Really?" Azazel hit his forehead and jerked his arms outward in a frustrated motion. "He wanted to meet us here?"
"He could never let go of the past," Murzix replied in a slightly miffed tone.
Azazel tried his best to avoid this area of the Shadow Realm. Not because it had the thickest magic and the most monsters, but because Zorc often liked to come here. Azazel wasn't really the nostalgic type anyway. "Oh look, he even erected a statue."
"You are joking."
Azazel shook his head and pointed. Surrounded by a group of forty-some Duel Spirits bowing at its feet, a statue of Zorc double the height of the State of Liberty stood proudly in the center. Azazel, sickened by the Spirits worshipping a false—and stupid—idol, snapped his fingers, all the Spirits disappearing in a whirlwind of shadows.
"I never come here." Murzix murmured. "I often considered giving this place a visit, but never felt motivated enough to actually follow through. Now I know I will never visit."
"Where it all started."
Azazel and Murzix turned around slowly, the figure of Zorc emerging from the shadows. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and walked forward, making sure to flap his wings so they bumped into Azazel and Murzix when he passed. The shadow and magician exchanged looks before reluctantly following.
"Shame it pales to the real thing," Zorc stopped in front of the statue and cocked his head admiringly. "I'm actually fifty feet taller."
"We know." Murzix and Azazel chimed. The shadow smiled mischievously at his blue-haired comrade and lifted his feet off the ground, sitting cross-legged and propping his elbows on his knees and resting his face in the palms of his hands before asking Zorc, "What do you want?"
"To reminisce," Zorc imparted uncharacteristically. "And I haven't seen you two for a very long time. How long has it been?"
"Four hundred and sixty-eight years," Murzix was monotone. "Hardly a 'very long time.'"
The demon shrugged and stretched his wings. "Do you remember what happened here?"
"How can we not?" Azazel said, rolling his eyes. "You remind us every time you want to talk to us."
"I remind you because you seem to forget." Zorc growled darkly. "Do you not realize how important the Shadow Realm is? Is it just another toy of yours, Azazel?"
"If it was just another toy," Azazel spat, "I would relocate to a different part of the Duat."
There was a tense silence before Zorc spoke again. "I bring you here as a reminder of the greatness we accomplished."
"Is that a 'thank you' I hear?" Azazel quipped. "Are you actually admitting that you couldn't have done this by yourself?"
Zorc's temple pulsed and he clenched his jaw. "I never said that. And neither of you could have done it alone."
A red glint flashed across the shadow's eyes, but he didn't say anything.
Murzix, the only rational one, sighed. "While that may hold a grain of truth, the enormous ego we each possess prevents us from admitting that there was a collaboration to create the Shadow Realm."
Azazel stubbornly floated two feet higher so he could look down upon his comrades and Zorc snorted, smoke billowing out of his nose.
"Zorc," Murzix continued, "could you control the monster and demon count? Zombies keep getting into my castle. The like to consume my potions. And your damned Duel Spirits are like vermin."
The demon's eyes flashed. "Vermin? My demons are not vermin! How dare you—"
"Oh, and could you tell them to leave my Shadow Breathers alone?" Azazel called down. "The carnivorous ones like to eat my poor babies."
"You are the one who keeps poisoning them?" Zorc raged.
"It's their fault if they eat corrupted shadows," Azazel jibed with a grin.
"Azazel, all of your shadows are corrupted." Murzix said tiredly.
"Oops."
/…\
Malik stayed dormant in Anzu's mind, seeing through her eyes as she watched Jou and Kaiba duel for third place. It was even more uncomfortable being in her body this time because she was active and awake. He sighed mentally. If only there was an easier way to get his body back.
Anzu turned toward the airship just as Ishizu walked down the stairs. Malik took full control over Anzu's body and walked calmly over toward his sister.
"Anzu?" she said as Anzu-Malik approached. "Are you alright?"
"Sister." he said.
"Malik!" Ishizu said, a small amount joy slipping into her voice. "What are you doing here?"
"I don't have much time," he said. "How long has it been since I last talked to you?"
"Three days."
Malik's eyes widened. "Three days? I've been in the Shadow Realm for almost four months!"
"Oh Malik," Ishizu tightly embraced her brother. "You're darker side is getting stronger."
A shadow passed over his face. "I know. That's why I'm here. I'm going to reclaim my body. Ryou and I have joined with Bakura and we figured a way out, but Ryou's unconscious. It's a long story." He added to his sister's confused look. "In these months, I figured that if I can get access to the Rod, I can move my soul back into my body."
"Malik! That is a reckless plan. How are you going to get the Rod away from him anyway?" Ishizu asked, shocked by his brash statement.
Malik only smiled and closed his eyes, concentrating to find his darker half. He sensed him on top of the tower. Malik opened his eyes. "It's time for me to get my body back." He gave a stern nod to his sister and ran toward the tower.
"Malik! Wait!" He heard his sister calling but ignored her. He had a more pressing matter at hand.
/…\
There was a part of Bakura that wanted to kick Malik, but he resisted and instead focused his attention to his host. Don't touch either of us. He snorted as he recalled Malik's words. He wouldn't touch them. Physically. Slowly, Bakura crouched next to his host. He smirked, closed his eyes, and focused on Ryou's thoughts. If he could get a connection, he just may be able to control him again. He hovered his hand above Ryou's forehead, scrunching his brow. His hand began to burn and he opened his eyes. The spirit glared hard at Ryou, trying as he might to overcome the boy.
"This is much harder without the Millennium Ring," he muttered angrily. Ignoring his previous statement about how he wouldn't touch either of them, he placed his index and middle fingers on the center of Ryou's forehead. Instantly, the Brit's eyes snapped open and he sat up in the blink of an eye. Bakura was thrown off balance by the sudden movement, crashing to the floor. Ryou didn't speak, but stared blankly off into the distance. His eyes were hollow and clouded.
"Yadonashi!" Bakura barked.
Ryou remained motionless, his eyes still dormant. It was like he couldn't hear.
"Yadonashi?" Bakura said cautiously, moving forward back to his crouching position. "What are you doing?"
He stayed as he was.
Bakura surveyed his host for a moment. "Host."
No movement.
"Host!"
Nothing.
Again and again Bakura tried to get his attention, but the Brit wouldn't move. Bakura took a breath and for the first time in eight years said, "Ryou."
Ryou's head jerked to the side and upward in a robotic-like gesticulation. "Why did you do this?" His voice asked like a child, but the deeper tones and higher frequencies in the voice revealing his state.
"Do what?" Bakura asked back, dodging the obvious question.
"Why do you hurt this poor boy?" Ryou's voice asked, not allowing Bakura to avoid the question. "He did nothing to deserve this."
Bakura put his hands on his hips. "And whom am I speaking with?"
"The shadows you blocked this poor human boy access." Ryou's voice continued. "We grew so sad from not being used. He was always supposed to have shadows. Even if you never found him, the human boy always has access."
The spirit crossed to Ryou's other side by Malik. Ryou's head joltingly followed him as he walked, his blank eyes never moving, never blinking. "Can all shadows talk?"
"Sometimes. If we have access." Ryou's voice said. "Shadows are not meant to be repressed. We were trapped in the dark, even a dark that made shadows afraid. This dark meant a box, and shadows do not do much in a box. We sit. Sometimes we die."
"You were trapped in Ryou's soul room?"
"Yes. Shadows do not always come from the soul room, but it is the personality link. We link with people. Those who are Shadow Users have shadows in their soul rooms. That little human boy that is connected with the pharaoh has some shadows."
"Where is Ryou now?" Bakura inquired, not letting his fascination of this new information break his callous inquiries.
"Resting." Ryou's voice said simply. "The eruption of us left the human boy in shock and tired his mental spirit and physical body. His soul room will no longer be as dark because we are free."
Bakura let this new information sink in. Just as he opened his mouth, Ryou's voice interrupted.
"Why do you hurt this poor boy?" his voice asked again.
"Because he is not obedient," the spirit answered. "Disobedience needs to be punished."
"In punishing him," Ryou's voice continued. "Are you not punishing yourself?"
Bakura became very quiet. "How do you know this?"
Ryou's head cocked to the side. "We have been around for a very long time, Thief King Akefia. We observe a great deal of events. Shadows are very good at keeping secrets. We tell no one things no one should know, like how you and this human boy are connected, a connection that is much deeper than you want to believe."
Silence fell for a long while.
"Why did you not respond when I called before?" Bakura lifted a white eyebrow.
Ryou's face grinned slowly. "Because you did not say the boy's name." And his eyes fluttered as the shadows retreated, Ryou once more still.
/…\
Malik took a moment to rest in the arch of the opening. Anzu thankfully was in great shape, but running up ten flights of stairs was still tiring. Marik's back was turned; Malik noticed his dark side was monologuing and chuckling to himself and rolled his eyes. He took a moment to compose himself, to swallow his fear, stepped into the sunlight and stopped about ten feet away from his yami who was shouting at the Millennium Rod.
"Why won't you work?" He shook the Item angrily and yelled at it in Ancient Egyptian and Arabic. "Show me what you showed the pharaoh and Kaiba!"
Malik raised an eyebrow. The Millennium Rod was acting up around the pharaoh and Kaiba? Before he could think about it any more, the sound of metal scraping concert and thud on the toe of his shoe distracted him. He looked down, and lo and behold, the Millennium Rod was literally at his feet. That was easy.
"You should be more careful with this," Malik said, bending down to pick up his Rod. Oh, how he missed it. A small sense of relief washed over him as he wrapped his hand around its handle, remembering how balanced it felt in his hand. He cleared his thoughts, knowing if he went any further they'd get darker; he needn't be reminded of the horrible things he did when the climax of them was standing in front of him.
"Pardon me?" His dark turned and glared, fear replacing that little but of relief. Right. He was in Anzu's body. Marik didn't know that.
"Hand over that Item," Marik demanded darkly. "You are meddling with forces beyond your comprehension." He sauntered forward and Malik quickly activated the Rod, throwing Marik back.
"What?" A confused almost child-like look crossed Marik's face as he got up. "How are you doing that? That isn't supposed to happen. I am the only one who can control the Millennium Rod!"
Malik smirked and walked forward, holding the Millennium Rod in front of him. "Guess again." He pushed Marik back and snarled at him. "Hi Marik. Missed me?"
"Malik-dear?" He asked and threw his head back and laughed. "You missed me so much you wanted to come visit? How's the Shadow Realm?"
"Sunny and warm," Malik replied dryly.
"How did you get out?" He asked cocking his head to the side. "Wait…" An inane smile stretched across his lips. "You left a piece of yourself inside her. How pathetic."
Anzu-Malik narrowed his eyes and walked forward, forcing Marik's back against the guardrail. "I had no other choice. I'm the reason you were born and it's my responsibility to dispose of you."
"You talk like I'm a piece of garbage," Marik pouted.
"You are."
The psychopathic smile returned. "Is that so? How come I'm the one that threw you out? You don't exist. With you thrown out, I have your body. Or should I say my body."
Keeping his composure, Malik only sneered at his darker half. "I realized you have my body. I'm here it get it back."
"I sorry to say that you are too weak for that," Marik's grin ranged to inhuman. "How long have you even been in the Shadow Realm?"
"Don't you know?"
Marik's grin faltered and he crossed his arms. "I've lost my connection to you. I can't keep tabs."
Thank Ra! Malik thought, but said, "About four months."
"Four months too long." Marik cocked his head to the side. "You really have grown weak. And you have a limited amount of magic even with that Rod in your hand. Don't you see, Malik-dear? I am the real you." A shadow passed over his face and the visible veins palpitated. "I am the real you. You are nothing but a memory." He lurched forward and grabbed Malik's hand, forcing Malik to drop the Rod and move. Marik caught the Rod in mid-air and turned, forcing one of the sharp edges of the Rod onto Malik's throat.
"I never liked this girl," he said in all seriousness. "I wonder what color red her blood is." He pressed the Rod slightly into Anzu-Malik's jugular before loosening and pointing the Rod at Malik's face. "First things first. Time to banish the rest of you into the Shadow Realm. It was nice knowing you, Malik-dear. Really. Thank you so much for helping me accomplish my goals." His genuine smile looked wrong on his face; it was even scarier than his normal grins.
Malik glanced around, looking for an escape route. Shit. Why did he have to go and get himself cornered? This was not part of the plan. He could feel the shadows starting to pull himself back into the Shadow Realm as well, his two hours running out.
"No where to go?" Marik chided.
"You won't get away with this," Malik said as his darker half pressed forward and forced Malik's back against the guardrail.
"You are in no place to make threats." Marik jested sinisterly.
In a quick motion just as Marik slashed the Rod, Malik braced the guardrail and jumped up, hand-standing on the rail. He crossed one hand over and other, braced the rail again, and pushed off over Marik's head, landing on his feet despite the clumsy shoes. A part of Malik was amazed by his sudden flexibility and gymnastics skills while the other part was relieved that he didn't die or was banished to the Shadow Realm… again.
"You're just prolonging the inevitable." Marik snarled. The Eye on the Rod lit up and Malik was thrown backwards. "Looks like the tables have been turned."
"J-just shut up," Malik said awkwardly.
"Scared?" Marik swiftly strolled over to his light and loomed over him. "Looks like you can't fight without Odion acting as your body guard."
Uncontrollable tears filled Anzu-Malik's eyes.
Damn these female hormones! He thought angrily.
"It's time to end our game." Marik drawled. He leisurely lifted the Rod and pointed it at Malik's head. "Goodbye, Malik." The Eye began to glow and Malik closed his eyes.
"Stop this!" A voice behind Malik demanded.
Malik opened his eyes and turned. "Ishizu!"
"Wha?" Marik stopped smiling. "Stay out of this, Ishizu." He growled. "This doesn't concern you."
Ishizu ignored his words, but never broke her stern gaze as she advanced toward him.
"The again," the dark divulged, his lips upturning in a smirk, "I could just banish you both."
Ishizu stopped in her tracks and glared at him. "Be gone. You are not my brother."
"I wasn't saying that I was."
"Sister," Malik said regretfully and squeezed his eyes shut. "My plan has failed. I am weak. My time here is almost up." He felt the shadows pulling at him. "I-I can't do it. I'm sorry. Please Ishizu! I'll find another way, I'll try. You just—"
Malik opened his eyes to blue and grey swirling shadows.
"SHIT!" He screamed, his heart broken with grief as he pounded the floor with his fist. "I almost had him! I almost had him! I almost—" His voice cracked and he crumpled to the floor, sobbing.
/…\
Azazel and Zorc continued to argue for the next hour until Murzix finally lost all his patience and flashed lightening on the statue of Zorc, causing one of the horns to fall off. Zorc turned his rage to Murzix but with one look from Murzix's steely gaze he clamped his mouth shut.
"Now then," Murzix said reasonably. "Why did you call us?"
"I want to know how you two have been," Zorc stated, his red eyes darting to the side.
"Bull," Azazel called. "That is unlike you. You've been acting off-kilter since we got here."
"My mind is on other matters." The demon said distractedly.
"They why bother having us meet?"
Zorc put his hands behind his back and walked toward the statue. Without turning to face them, he asked, "What have you two been doing?"
"Same old, same old. Slinking in the shadows. Luring humans in. Finding playthings." Azazel grinned his Cheshire cat smile. "Nothing new."
"Murzix?"
The magician twitched his mouth. "I make spells in my castle." He said simply.
"I have a hard time believing that." He turned his head so he could see them out of the corner of his eye. "I have a source that tells me you two have been collaborating."
"If you think we're trying to get rid of you, for the twentieth time no, we are not." Azazel professed.
"That's not what I'm talking about."
Azazel stiffened and his eyes blazed. Slowly, he levitated down and placed his feet on the ground. "What are you talking about?" He asked, his tone dangerous. Murzix placed his hand on Azazel's shoulder and gave him a warning look. Azazel shrugged it off and marched at Zorc.
"You've been watching my host body and those two other mortals." He rumbled.
"We are allowed to observe new comers." Azazel stated.
"Yes, you are." Zorc eyed the shadow. "But those three, you are not allowed to touch. I saw the trick you pulled with Diabound, Azazel. I don't know how he answered to you, but I will have no more of that. You are not allowed to touch them."
"And why is that?" Azazel pressed, knowing he was testing Zorc's very limited patience.
"Because those three are mine."
Zorc stepped backwards and fell through a portal, making sure Murzix and Azazel each were under his red gaze before he disappeared.
Like any other time Zorc asked him to do or not do anything, Azazel blatantly ignored his wishes and went further with the plan Murzix and he concocted. The magician followed Azazel's lead—or Azazel followed Murzix's lead—and made his maze, taking his time to perfect every detail.
"It's finished," he called over to Azazel on the third day.
Azazel looked up from the Cosmo magazine he obtained from a young American woman and grinned. "Brilliant! Lemme see!" He poked his head into the maze for a moment before turning to Murzix. "You're a genius."
Murzix couldn't help his small, pompous grin. "I am aware."
Excitedly, Azazel rubbed his hands together. "Once our guests have sorted through their problems, we can collect them."
"Not now?"
Azazel shook his head. "Not when the British boy is on the edge of unlocking his shadow magic." He tapped his head. "They've told me." He snapped his fingers and a portal ripped open. "Shall we wait at your house?"
"Castle," Murzix corrected. "I guess."
The portal closed as they stepped through, the trap finally set.
/…\
"You have no idea what I could do to you," Bakura growled.
"Minds games?" Malik sneered. "I can play those. You want to know how many people I've manipulated to kill themselves too? Try me."
Ryou once more sighed when he stopped next to Malik and Bakura. He scrunched his eyebrows in a tired manner at the same old fight they seemed to have since they first met.
"Really?" He spoke, his voice cracking from not speaking for five days.
"Ryou!" Malik chipped. "You're awake! How are you feeling?"
"To be honest," he said, "like shit. I ache all over and I have a killer migraine. What happened?"
Malik took a moment to speak. "You released your Shadow Magic."
"I… what?" Ryou shook his head. "I have Shadow Magic?"
"Yes." Bakura spoke up, his eyes hard. "You do."
"Wh-why didn't I know this before? Why have I never used it?"
"If you knew, would you use it with me around?" Bakura asked in a calm, but threatening manner.
Ryou's eyes darted away from his dark's gaze. "No."
"They were suppressed," Malik supplied. "You never used them because you couldn't. Bakura locked them up."
The British teen looked at Bakura, his face full of pain and confusion. "Why?"
"We had a conversation like this five days ago," Bakura growled. "I do not want to revisit it."
An awkward silence passed over the three males before a voice piped up.
"Don't we have a nice little group," it said. "You all don't seem to get along though. I believe the saying goes, 'Two's a company, but three's a crowd.'"
"Who are you?" Bakura stepped in front of Ryou and Malik, his eyes zipping around, trying to find the source of the disembodied voice.
"Just a stranger wanting to help." A figured melted out of the shadows directly in front of Bakura. It seemed he was made of the shadows, his skin the same bluish hue as the foggy haze around them and his suit two shades darker. His hollow face was partly covered by long grey bangs, the rest of his hair tied back in a puffy ponytail. His tie, seeming blacker than black itself, floated idly in a nonexistent wind. He blinked his black eyes at the little group, his white irises glinting red.
"Who are you?" Bakura repeated.
The newcomer smiled. "Hello. My name's Azazel and I'm the creator of the Shadow Realm. I'm going to help you get home."
Oh look a long chapter!
For the record, the first and last paragraph are connected, Murzix and Azazel spend most of their part in flashback and then three days before Ryou releases his Shadow Magic, and Malik and Bakura are going through what happened in the five days Ryou was knocked out.
YAY! TIME IS NOT RELEVANT TO ME OR THE SHADOW REALM. MWAHAHAHAHA. Review?
Over and out,
Mahersal
