Seth ran through the palace, his breath coming in sharp gasps, his heart thundering in his ears. He was vividly reminded of the night Kisara died, and the way he'd run then, trying desperately to save her. Then he'd been too late.
He would not let the same thing happen to Pharaoh.
The doors to the principle casting chamber were closed. As Seth approached, the Millennium Rod began to glow, and he felt the bone-wrenching cold of the Shadow Realm. From the room beyond, he could hear chanting and an echo of cruel laughter.
With so much magic in the air, he could not access his power. Any action of his might disturb the spells inside, which would be fatal for the casters. He shoved on the doors, praying they would be unlocked. They were; the spells that normally held them closed had been drained away.
Terror, so strong it almost paralyzed him. He fought it down and flung the doors wide.
Pharaoh knelt in the middle of the room, blood streaming from both arms and splattering the golden floor beneath. His head lolled like a broken puppet whose strings have just been cut. His crimson eyes were closed, but his mouth was open in a silent scream. The Puzzle hardly glowed, its power almost drained.
Around Pharaoh stood his four remaining priests. All stood rigidly, eyes open and empty, their mouths gaping as they mouthed the words to an obscene chant. It was bitterly cold, yet none of them shivered. In the eerie light upon the altar, their shadows danced. The harsh words tore at Seth's ears, accustomed as he was to spellcasting; there was evil here that even he had never tried to invoke.
He had to stop it.
Raising the Millennium Rod, Seth spoke the Seven Words of Breaking. Just speaking them felt like hot irons ripping open his throat; his own magic trembled and nearly failed from sheer proximity.
Nothing happened.
Seth dropped to his knees, panting with the effort. His limbs trembled, his breath came in shuddering gasps. He had spoken the Words correctly – he felt their drain upon his ka – but the spell was still in effect. How was that possible? Fear threatened to overwhelm him again, but he ignored it and staggered to his feet.
He stood there, staring at his king in the center of the floor. The blood was still streaming from the cuts, far more quickly than it should have been. How much more could Pharaoh afford to lose?
There was no other choice. He had to enter the Shadow Realm himself and try to end the spell from there.
He focused his ba, preparing his soul to submerge into the magic. It was frighteningly easy, almost as though the Shadow Realm was eager to drag him in. Only a thin thread of self-restraint was keeping him from falling in. He steeled himself, tightened his grip on the Millennium Rod, and let go.
The light of the room dimmed and the familiar violet fog of the Shadow Realm spread. The Shadows cackled, tearing at his clothes and hair, shrieking with rage as the Millennium Rod flared and drove them away. With each labored breath, Seth felt magic coursing down his throat and burrowing beneath his skin. But worse was the feeling that he was not alone. The darkness brimmed with life. Something far more powerful than the Shadows that he so easily controlled.
Pharaoh knelt not ten paces away. The glow of his ba was frighteningly weak. But here his eyes were open. "Seth…" he whispered. "Help me…"
Seth had taken only a single step towards his king when the Shadows coalesced. A man with white hair and dark eyes stood there, clad in a red cloak. A demon's smile twitched the corners of his mouth.
"Bakura," Seth snarled. "How have you accomplished this?"
The Thief King laughed. "Oh, I'm far more powerful than you realize, Blue Eyes. And your precious pharaoh was foolish enough to come waltzing right into my arms."
Hatred rose up in Seth and nearly choked him. For a moment, he could not breathe with the strength of it. Helpless to restrain himself, he stepped forward. And stopped.
"You're not Bakura," he said.
Bakura's smile widened. "Clever mortal." His brown eyes darkened further, until they were little more than pools of inky blackness. His smile was all teeth. "What gave me away?"
Seth smirked. "Even in the Shadow Realm, the Thief King stinks."
The creature's eyes widened, and then he laughed. The sound was without a doubt he most terrifying thing Seth had ever heard. "Few have dared to speak to me with such insolence. I am impressed." He lifted a hand. "Will you not join me, mortal? You are more worthy of my power than a petty thief." His voice grew quieter. "Will you not speak my name and set me free?"
Seth snorted. "How much of a fool do you think I am?"
"Do you not know it?" the creature asked, eyes widening in a parody of surprise.
"I know it," Seth said quietly. "What have you done to Pharaoh?"
"Me?" Zorc said innocently. "Not a thing. He simply lost his way."
"Pharaoh is not so weak as that!" Seth spat. "He knows the dangers of the Shadow Realm better than anyone."
"So he did." Zorc sneered. "But he was trying to summon Me. He sought My aid." He laughed. "The fool."
Seth came to a sick realization. "You are the force behind the Thief King," he whispered. "You are the reason that he did not die with Diabound."
The monster inclined his head. "Indeed."
Seth swallowed again. "But now you are a Shadow only," he said desperately. "You cannot enter our world."
"I will," Zorc said easily. "Bakura will soon obtain everything I need."
"Not if he dies first," Seth said.
Zorc smirked. "You can't stop him. You don't have the power."
Seth straightened and matched the monster's smile. "I will."
He sprang forward before Zorc could react. His arms wrapped tightly around his pharaoh's frail, bleeding body. And focusing his ba for a final effort, he screamed the Seven Words of Breaking.
The trio followed Karim through the hallways at a dead run. They had only been running for a few minutes when Karim doubled over with a grunt of pain. He raised his head, his dark skin white. "I can feel the power of the Shadows even here," he whispered in horror. "They have never been this strong!"
They were running again, Harry and Ron helping Karim. The man was trembling, and as they approached what was he claimed was the principle casting chamber, his shivering got worse. The doors were ajar, and from inside, there emanated a bitter cold. Karim shuddered, his steps becoming even slower.
Suddenly, the ground beneath them quaked. Someone screamed, a string of long, meaningless words that echoed and reechoed off the walls and floor. Then, as though sucked into a black hole, the cold and the magic disappeared. Drawing their wands, Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed inside.
On the floor inside the room, Pharaoh lay before a golden altar. The floor beneath him was soaked with blood. Seth knelt beside him, cradling his king in his arms, face chalk white. They were both perfectly still. Four priests lay on the floor around the pair, unconscious.
As the trio entered, Seth stirred. His eyes opened and gazed around the room, confused. Then, as they rested on the motionless pharaoh, they abruptly snapped into focus.
"Pharaoh!" he cried, laying the man down carefully on the floor. He cursed as he saw the blood still streaming from Pharaoh's arms. Shifting his weight, he grasped the edge of his cloak, preparing to tear it into strips.
That snapped Hermione into action. "Wait," she said, lifting her wand and pointing it at Pharaoh. Seth looked up at her. "I can stop the bleeding. Vulnera Sanentur!"
The flow of blood slowed, but Hermione gasped. It felt like something was blocking the magic, like something was resisting the healing. Noticing her stricken face, Harry and Ron lifted their wands too.
"Vulnera Sanentur!" they said in unison. This time, the cuts began to close, the flesh beginning to knit together.
"Vulnera Sanentur!" The cuts closed up completely. Seth breathed a sigh of relief. The trio just stood there panting. For some reason, the spell had taken a lot out of them. But they were rewarded a few moments later when Pharaoh moaned and stirred. He opened his eyes.
"Seth?" he whispered. "What…" His eyes fell on his other priests. "Are…are they alright?"
Karim bent down beside the other priests. "They live, My Pharaoh."
Pharaoh laid his head weakly against Seth's shoulder. "Good…"
Without a word, Seth swept his king into his arms. The king protested feebly, but Seth ignored him, and soon Pharaoh simply let himself be carried. His eyes closed and he lapsed into a weary doze. At the door, Seth stopped and looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Thank you," he said simply.
Harry smiled shakily. "Hey, no problem."
Seth smiled in return, then left, carrying the limp pharaoh in his arms.