[Originally published on January 13, 2017, and edited/updated in January, 2018]
Haha, I can't sleep, so I went ahead and finished editing the chapter and decided to upload it now.
Notes about the dialogue:
Dialogue in BOLD means it's spoken in Japanese.
Dialogue in [brackets] means it's spoken in an Egyptian dialect.
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Chapter 9:
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Namu's laughter sounded oddly dark, considering how peaceful the boy seemed.
Malik only rolled his eyes and turned back to the metal cuff on his wrist, sliding a star chip into place with a 'click.' They'd just spent the past four hours dueling Lumis and Umbris, with the final victory landing in his and Namu's favor.
And Namu... well, Namu was an entirely different person when he dueled. He was cold and calculating, often punctuating his turns by taunting his opponent. He laughed an eerily dark laugh, as though to tell the whole world how sure he was of his win and how glad he was to hammer his opponent into the ground. And he had been nothing but friendly and cooperative toward Malik, thoroughly confusing the other male.
Dueling alongside Namu was nothing short of a thrilling experience. Malik couldn't remember the last time he felt his blood move so energetically through his veins.
["So...?"] Malik began, eyeing the other boy with a level of uneasy excitement. ["Where to now?"]
Namu turned back to him, looking confused, as though he'd already forgotten about him. ["Oh. You're still here."]
["Well, you weren't exactly chasing me away when there was a duel at hand!"]
Namu shrugged noncommittally. ["I needed a partner. You were there and willing. You were convenient."] His cold voice made Malik shudder. Whether from excitement or fear, he couldn't be sure.
It reminded him of a voice he'd heard in his dreams every night since awakening from that tomb.
It took Malik a moment to find his voice to speak again. ["Well, now that I'm no longer convenient, I guess I should be going then. No point in staying where I'm not wanted, I mean..."]
His feet were moving. Taking steps. Moving backwards. Away from this handsome boy with vibrant, purple eyes and sandy blonde hair. Away from that voice, the shadows, the darkness come to consume him, flames were licking at his blood-stained clothes—
["—ight?"]
He froze, blinking in the direction of the voice. His blurred vision cleared, and he was surprised to see Namu gazing at him, the other boy's face suddenly full of concern. ["... I... What?"]
["I asked if you were alright. Seems like the answer is a pretty definite 'no,' though."]
Malik wanted to argue. Wanted to say that he was fine, and that he had to be leaving now. Wanted to will himself to march right back to the castle in the center of the island and beg forgiveness from his sister.
But he just couldn't bring himself to. So, he simply stood there, watching Namu to see what the other boy would do.
Realizing that he wasn't going to get a proper response, Namu rolled his eyes before turning to stare off in a certain direction. ["Well, I can see the public restrooms from here, and I have some food in my backpack. I don't know about you, but I need some breakfast and a shower."] He cast Malik a sideways glance. ["You're welcome to join me, if you like."]
Malik tilted an eyebrow, puzzled. ["I can get my own food. You don't have to feed me or anything."]
["Think of it as a proper 'thank you' for handling Keith for me, yesterday. We're still not even from that."]
Ra, but this boy was fickle! But, it wasn't every day Malik got to spend time with such an interesting boy. And he could always beg forgiveness later. Isis would understand. Probably.
["Alright,"] Malik answered with a grin. ["Then lead the way!"]
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It had been nearly twelve hours since his run-in with that weirdo who only spoke a dead language, but Seto Kaiba was still very ticked. Usually Yuugi was the only person who could make him this frustrated and bothered, but now there was a second duelist whose face was burned into Seto's mind out of hatred.
Of course, up until meeting that weirdo, Yuugi had been the only other person to defeat him in a duel. And, now that he'd been beaten by two different people, that meant he had two different people to utterly destroy.
"Don't worry, big brother," Mokuba's voice interrupted his inner rant. "It's not that big an island. You'll get your chance with Yuugi and that other Yuugi sooner or later... "
The preteen grinned cruelly as he finished his thought. "... And then you'll finish her off for good, along with her new friend."
He and Mokuba must have a shared mind, Seto reflected.
"You know something, little brother? You're right, for once." He threw his head back, barking out a sharp laugh. "Come on, Mokuba. I need to find a loser to blow off steam on."
Nodding, the younger boy fell into step behind his brother, walking three times as fast to keep up with the much taller one.
If either of the two revenge-driven brothers had paused to look behind them, they would have noticed a man with long red hair and a face obscured by a golden mask, watching them, his one eye glinting. But their eyes were trained in front, searching for potential victims to humiliate, and anything happening behind them did nothing to earn their attention.
It took longer than expected for Seto to find someone he deemed an appropriate opponent, considering he was on an island crawling with duelists who were more than eager to show off their individual skill sets. Not just anyone would do for Seto Kaiba, though, so he kept looking, ignoring any and all challenges offered to him as he passed through clusters of players.
That is, until he came across someone who managed to catch and hold his attention, pink hair shimmering in the sunlight.
Mokuba noticed the look on his brother's face, eyes following his brother's gaze to see what had piqued his interest. "Hey, isn't that what's-his-name? That moron from Austria or wherever?"
"Schroeder, Germany." But what was he doing here? Since when did he play Duel Monsters, or any other game, for that matter?
Seto shrugged; that didn't matter, in the long run. What mattered was that he was here, someone whose intellect rivaled his own. Straightening up to his full-height, Seto chose to address the pink-haired boy he'd been watching. "Siegfried!"
The pink-haired boy turned to look at him, sharp eyes glinting, lips curling up into a sneer to match Kaiba's. The boy then turned on his heels, vanishing into the island trees.
Growling, Seto took off after him, forgetting all about the prospect of dueling in his desire to catch and throttle the living snot of the German boy. That was just the affect Siegfried von Schroeder had on him – his infuriating business rival made him forget everything.
Even his brother.
Taken by surprise when Seto suddenly broke into a run and vanished in the trees, Mokuba could only stare, crying out in alarm. "Hey, wait for me!"
But, by that point, it was too late to follow him. Considering their difference in heights, Mokuba knew he'd never be able to keep up with Seto running. It would be better to just wait for him to return later.
Mokuba rolled his eyes and growled, slumping down under a tree. At least he had his handheld gaming device to amuse himself with. "Stupid Seto. He'd better come back for me this time, or I'll be really mad."
To his surprise, somebody answered him, the voice strange and deep and echoing itself. It sounded as if two different men were speaking at the same time. Confused, Mokuba looked up, quickly finding himself facing a golden mask with one eye. "What—Who the hell are you supposed to be?!"
The figure didn't say anything, but his eye gleamed as he reached out a gnarly hand, fingers suddenly curling around Mokuba's face, preventing him from screaming. Struggling in his grip, Mokuba's eyes widened when he saw the strange figure pull out what seemed to be a necklace of some sort. The pendent was a perfect pyramid, shaped from blue crystal. It glowed warmly, almost invitingly, as though drawing him into its embrace...
Why stay in his body... why stay alive at all?... when those pretty whispers were calling out to him from within the crystal pyramid?
The boy's body became slack, collapsing onto its side. Empty, glassy eyes stared up from the boy's face, devoid of any life signs.
The area was soon filled with Shadow Magus's rasping laughter.
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["I can't believe you don't eat meat,"] Malik grumbled, staring in distaste at the plastic bag of dried carrot sticks. ["Why would you subject yourself to this plant rubbish when you could be eating juicy, fresh duck?"]
Namu barely looked up from the granola bar he was currently chewing on. ["I dislike the slaughter of animals. Besides, meat doesn't preserve well for spending a week in a tournament like this."]
["Meat keeps perfectly fine if it's salted enough."]
Malik only grinned as his (apparently vegan) friend looked away and rolled his eyes.
["Whatever."] Closing up the remains of his granola, Namu gestured to a row of the small community showers. The showers, along with temporary restrooms, had been set up here and there around the island for the convenience of the tournament competitors – and to keep any teenagers from urinating on any of Pegasus's plants instead. ["I'm going to shower. Watch my backpack for me? I mean, so long as you're following me, you might as well be useful."]
The more time Malik spent around Namu, the more he was honestly reminded of Isis. ["Who are you to order me around? My sister?"]
The other boy didn't reply, only frowning and throwing the pack at Malik's face. ["Keep hold of it. I don't want anyone else helping themselves to my food."]
["Believe me, no one is going to steal your precious lettuce and celery sticks."]
["Shut up. I'll be back in a half hour."] His eyes narrowed dangerously, the black makeup lining them shifting into angles sharp enough to look painful. ["And if I get back and my bag isn't here, I will personally cut your throat out and hang you from the nearest tree by your entrails."]
Malik batted his eyelashes playfully. ["Aw, Namu! You say the sweetest things!"]
["By the prophet, would you just shut up!"]
And with that final outburst, Namu turned and walked away, moving just a bit faster than usual. Malik, left literally holding the bag, wondered what he could have done to shake the boy up so much.
With nothing else to really do, Malik just shrugged to himself, sinking back down into a seated position on the ground. The grass beneath him and the breeze in his hair felt achingly good, and for the umpteenth time in his life he lifted a silent prayer to Ra, thanking him for the warmth and the sunlight he casted down to the people of Earth.
And yet, despite being surrounded by the beauty of nature, Malik couldn't help but feel unsettled. And for once it wasn't because of something he or Bekhura had done – at least, as far as he knew. It was something else, something unbalanced... Setting Namu's bag down beside him, he drew the Rod out from his belt, fingering the powerful Item as he closed his eyes, trying very hard to sense what that strange feeling was.
["Malik!"]
Malik's eyes snapped open, surprised to hear an all too familiar voice calling his name. ["... Bekhura?"]
The dark godling stood in front of him, looking as if he'd been there for ages, despite the fact that he was definitely not there two seconds ago. His sharp eyes glimmered strangely, and he was chewing nervously on one of his jagged, black fingernails. ["The door of darkness has been opened."]
["... What?"]
Ignoring Malik's very clever remark, Bekhura continued, the nail biting halting in favor of rapid speech. ["I've been feeling it for the past several minutes. Someone or something has escaped the realm of darkness and come into this world, and they're definitely not supposed to be here!"]
["Is that what I'm feeling?"] Malik looked down at the Ring where it hung around Bekhura's neck. The five spikes coming off the Ring were shifting around slightly, as though it were searching for the source of the disturbance. It wasn't a surprise that Bekhura would have a better idea of what was going on if it involved dark magic – he was part dark god, after all, and who better to sense dark energies than one who used them all the time?
Malik's feelings about Bekhura were... mixed. On the one hand, they were allies, and they weren't on unfriendly terms with each other. On the other hand, it was hard to avoid associating Bekhura with the thief and Zork, and Malik would never forget or forgive what they had done to him. But, unlike either of them Bekhura was at least useful from time to time.
Malik frowned. ["Have you seen Atem recently? Does he know?"]
["Weeelll, yes and no. I saw him last night and I know where he is, but I don't know if he's aware of this yet."] Bekhura's eyes trailed down to the bag resting at Malik's knee, one of his eyebrows lifting up. ["Whose bag is that, anyway? Did you steal it off of some kid or something?"]
A low growl escaped Malik's throat. ["No. That's something you would do."]
Bekhura chuckled. ["Guilty as charged."]
["No, the bag belongs to this boy I met yesterday. He wanted to get a shower in, so I'm watching his stuff for him."]
["You only just met him yesterday and he already trusts you well enough to let you mind his belongings?"]
["Hey!"] Malik feigned indignation. ["I'll have you know I'm a very trustworthy guy!"]
["Is he?"]
["What?"]
Bekhura rephrased his question, all joking gone from his voice. ["Is this boy trustworthy?"]
["He... Namu is... "] It took Malik a moment to find his voice. ["... He reminds me of myself. The way I used to be. But also... he reminds me of the thief. In a good way, I mean."]
Bekhura drew back, seemingly startled by this. When he spoke, his voice was low and level. ["Malik, leave him."]
Malik paused in confusion, staring at the other with raised eyebrows. ["... What?"]
["The last thing you need is another thief in your life!"]
Malik stared at the other for a moment, no words coming out of his mouth. Then his face settled into a fierce glare. ["Bekhura, you are literally the last person I need to take any advice from. I'm older and wiser than I was when your past selves amused themselves by playing games with my spirit. So, if you want to make yourself useful and give someone advice, why don't you go advise Atem into looking into your little door of darkness problem."]
A shocked face had come over Bekhura, but now it changed to a scowl. ["Fine. Have fun rebounding with your new boyfriend. But don't come crying to me if you get yourself hurt. Actually, don't come crying to anyone – you'll only have yourself to blame."]
And, once again, Malik suddenly found himself alone.
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["I'll be back in a half hour,"] Namu said as he narrowed his eyes. Hopefully, he looked intimidating. ["And if I get back and my bag isn't here, I will personally cut your throat out and hang you from the nearest tree by your entrails."]
Malik batted his eyelashes in a weird, flirty manner. Just riding the edge between irritating and endearing. ["Aw, Namu! You say the sweetest things!"]
Okay. That was it. This was getting ridiculous.
["By the prophet, would you just shut up!"] Turning sharply on his heels, Namu quickly walked to the showers. He didn't even care if Malik had a reaction or not – that weirdo could keep his thoughts to himself from now on?
But, if he was so infuriating, why trust him? Why let him hang around? Why did Namu feel so at ease with the boy's presence while, at the same time, not have any positive feelings about the boy personally?
Stupid Malik... Gaining his sympathy by telling that story of his, not just leaving when he wanted him to, proving himself to be a good companion...
… Seeming to be attracted to Namu...
["Curse you, you stupid son of a ****. Why did you have to show up and make everything even more complicated than it already was?"]
Growling under his breath in annoyance, Namu entered a curtained off "stall." It had been days since the teen had last showered, and now his hair was full of oil and his skin felt so gross and his clothing was covered with dry sweat. As soon as the curtain was secured behind him, shielding his form from prying eyes (though that hardly mattered; everyone was too busy dueling each other), the teen removed his top, followed by the bandages wrapped around her chest.
There. She could breathe again. Praise Allah, it felt good.
Standing underneath the shower, free from her confining attire, with cool water running through her hair and down her body... As she let any and all thoughts about Malik or her siblings wash out of her mind as the water washed over her body, Marika Ishtar couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so free.
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An earlier draft of this chapter had Shadow Magus and Mokuba talking to each other and having a conversation. While interesting, I remembered that language barriers were a Thing, and that version had to be scrapped. So Mokuba gets his soul taken by the Pyramid of Light instead, filling his "getting kidnapped" quota.
Two earlier drafts of the chapter also included scenes of Malik going stark raving mad and admitting to Namu that he was over 5000 years old.
This chapter was rewritten almost half a dozen times before I was happy with it. For anyone wondering why updates take so long on this fic, that's why.
Since Malik is his own person in this story and isn't an extension off of another person, he's not a vegan like his canon self is. Namu is, though.
Yes, the Ishtars are Muslim in this story. Namu just isn't very strong in the faith and wants to get away from traditions, like many young people from many backgrounds.
Please review if you feel so inclined, and I'll see you all in a few months! ^_^