'Surely this slave would not be so foolish as to risk his own life for ours?! He must be planning something- perhaps he seeks to strengthen his fallen comrade's essence through a sinister spell!' Seto gave the hidden king a very meaningful glance. His icy-blue glare spoke volumes: 'We cannot trust this angel!'

The enshrouded sovereign knew what his advisor was thinking, and he spoke up. "Then you shall have our finest warriors at your disposal- a group of twenty of our elite military leaders."

"Um, it might be best if I took only a small party- an angelic wraith usually will not attack another angel, but a demon..." Ryou trailed off awkwardly.

King Yami nodded grimly, clearly disturbed by what he'd learned. "Very well. Bakura will assist you, then."

The pale-haired demon muttered his consent, clearly unsure why Ryou was refusing the aid of a martial force. 'Then again, he is not prone to flights of fancy... perhaps stealth and smaller numbers will prove to be wiser... not that the latter was of much help to Natsuga, mind...'

The demon king carried on. "I expect your best effort on this matter, but no needless risks should be taken- if you sense that you may be overwhelmed, flee." This last statement was aimed more at the hotheaded guard than the 'captive.' Bakura looked annoyed[ but truthfully, he had a reputation for impulsiveness.

He gave a slightly mocking half-bow as he promised, "as his majesty commands."

"Good." The dark mists seemed to shift, and Ryou sensed the demon king was now glancing in his direction. "Hmm... yet going into battle while hindered is dangerous..." The shrouded figured then raised his right hand and muttered something low in the demonic tongue. Ryou felt the clasps on his wings fall to the floor, though they made little sound as they hit the floor.

Everyone seemed surprised by the quietness of the metal load, save the white-haired pair.

"A load-lightening spell?" The king added with a raised eyebrow, clearly looking to Bakura for an answer.

The ill-tempered guard gave a huff. "Yes, that fool Pegasus was quite enamored with our little captive."

King Yami held back a chuckle- he knew his second-strongest guard would likely never understand the value of social politeness. "I see. But you will also need supplies for this excursion..." The shadow-swathed figure raised his right hand, and a slight glow seemed to form and drift over the white-haired duo. "I will grant you both ephemeral access to the estate's herbal storehouse, so that you may look over the plants there, and see if any resemble what you might need. Take as much of whatever you feel may be of use. Be careful, and travel safe."

"As you wish, your majesty." Bakura repeated the usual phrasing as they were both dismissed. Ryou felt his voice sticking in his throat, and merely nodded towards the throne before following after his guard.

Though modest by Upperland standards, the herbal cache of the castle's cellar was well stocked with a fair assortment of dried plants and incised minerals. But very few of the herbs even vaguely resembled the flora of the Upperlands. The pale fiend waited by the entryway as the nervous cherub took his time inspecting and measuring various items. A look of minor annoyance soon settled across the guard's angular face. Plants and stones held virtually no interest to the pale combatant- in fact, few demons could even claim proficiency in the magicks that required such supplies.

Barely an hour passed before the pair made their way up the cold, stone steps of the castle's dry storehouse. "I hope these work..." Ryou murmured as he glanced at the glass pendant now hanging from his neck. He had ground up the look-alike plants as best he could with a stone pestle; but they certainly weren't the same as the ones he'd seen back home. The organic mixture didn't look all that similar to the potion he'd read about in the old archives, but perhaps it would suffice...

'At least I remember the incantation, so that's a good- GAH!' The angel nearly jumped when he felt a warm hand suddenly land onto his left shoulder.

"So, your plan on stopping this thing involves that jar of smushed plant fodder?" Bakura sounded doubtful, as though blinded to the logic of the plan.

Ryou let out a gasp as he tried to catch his breath. 'Demons really have no concept of personal space, it seems...' "Well, not exactly. The only remedy I know requires plants only found in the Upper realms- I'm just hoping that this-" here the angel tapped the small vial with one digit, "-alongside the right incantations, will be enough."

"Then, you have no sure plan for facing the wraith?" The angel braced himself, expecting a harsh reprisal from the more seasoned warrior. But to Ryou's surprise, the demon started laughing heartily. "Damn, and here I thought you were this pathetic little bookworm, acting all rational and sh*t! I never would've thought you had real guts!"

"Erm, thanks, I guess?" In the Upperlands, such a perilous trait would hardly earn a compliment, but apparently Bakura was impressed by the cherub's sudden determination. "It's still not a very good idea, though- I know the spirit is unlikely to harm ME, but I doubt it'll be happy to see a powerful demonic warrior such as yourself."

"Don't worry about me; I'll be fine."

Ryou gave distracted nod as he thought back on the words he'd learned years ago. "I-I still remember the incantation, but I don't know if the herbs are essential to the full excising, or if they're merely to help keep the process smooth and painless."

"Hm." Bakura decided against voicing his misgivings, and instead turned his focus towards their mission. "The base is located about two-thousand sp to the South, and then we'll have to walk another three thousand or so to reach the place where they found Natsuga."

"Alright."

It was not long before the strange pair were stepping beyond the boundaries of the training camp. Bakura had decided against stopping at the actual encampment- he saw little benefit in tempting fate by presenting a non-warrior angel to a group of young, battle-eager trainees and grilling them about their slaughtered comrade. Ryou had wisely agreed with this logic, and he kept a decent pace to match his partner. As they carried on past reddish stone and white brush, Ryou could feel his upper joints starting to relax again. Though it felt good to have the metal clasps removed, Ryou did not spread out his wings as they walked together. He knew demons often did so to intimidate others, and he was eager not to have his intentions misconstrued.

As the pair strode on, Bakura decided to break the silence. "So, where do they come from?"

"Wraiths?"

"Yeah. You mentioned the 'spirits of the dead,' but that's pretty vague."

Ryou felt his expression grow taut as he dully explained. "'Vague' is hardly inaccurate- what I said before is just about as much as we know about them. But there are some theories- the most popular one being that it's a culmination of unsuccessful essence transmission."

Two crimson eyes blinked in misapprehension. "Come again?"

Ryou thought for a moment, trying to figure the best way to explain his Upperlander beliefs to a demon. "Well, as I've said before, we angels are empaths- meaning we have strong emotional connections and senses. So, whenever an angel dies, their final emotions tend to travel to the nearest 'connection.' Usually this means a blood relative, or someone who has remained close to them through most of their life. But if an angel dies alone, with no one else of our kind around... well..."

"That energy has to go somewhere."

The slenderer being nodded. "Unfortunately, yes- sometimes, when there is no immediate outlet, the spirit's essence can linger above the remains; like an untreated wound. And since all records of wraiths remark that their deaths were violent, we assume that their negative emotions outweighed the positive at that point... thus trapping them in a never-ending cycle of festering resentment and pain."

"Damn."

Ryou mistook the demon's curse as a sympathetic utterance and gave a solemn nod as they marched. "They very much are, indeed."

But for once, the cherub's misguided response went unnoticed by the distracted demon. 'What sort of hell are we walking into...'

"Oh!" The young angel suddenly gave a startled gasp, and leaned up against the nearest boulder. His slim shoulders trembled as he tried to re-capture his breath.

"What, what is it?!"

"I can feel it- it's horrible. Like a ragged, gaping hole that draws everything into its darkness..." The angel shook his head. "Sorry, I can carry on; I've just never felt anything like this before."

"Mm." Though he would never voice his fears aloud, the Underlands warrior felt a jolt of concern upon hearing that this was such a foreign experience for the cherub. 'If he proves to be wrong about this creature in any way whatsoever, this might be only the beginning of a very bloody campaign.'

Bakura then nearly walked right into the angel- he was about to question why the runt had stopped when heard a horrifying scream.

"There." The angel pointed to a cleft between two massive stones- hovering just above the spot was the wraith. The trespassers both watched, their jaws tightly closed as they took in the volatile horror drifting before them.

It was a truly disturbing sight. The apparition before them was severely faded in both color and solidity. It was as though all signs of life had long-drained from its shriveled form. Its eyes were gone, replaced by a pair of deep, black circles; like two long-dried wells. It opened its mouth but no sound emerged, save for an eerily high-pitched screech. Ryou struggled not to cover his ears as the deceased creature wailed on and on. 'What a terrible sound it makes- like a sharp wind screaming against a cracked cliff!'

The demon was the first to recover his senses, and he quickly hissed towards his companion. "Perhaps now would be a good time to try out your idea, then?" Bakura gave his stunned companion a brief shove with one elbow.

"O-oh, right. Sorry." Still unnerved, Ryou carefully took the glass vial from around his neck and stepped forward. He could feel his entire body trembling as he faced the undead seraph.

"Soror..." The small angel began, but soon had to clear his throat to keep his voice steady. Addressing his long-dead kinsman was much harder than he thought. The piercing gaze of its paired, hollow orbs kept following him; as though he was the only other being there.

"Scio tu pertuli plurima mea tot detrimentum,

Tuus vultis libera et a sanguine et a dolore!

Audite obsecro vos verbum Domini Deus;

Et obliviscar sermones tui boni a vindictæ!

Tua familia, et luce parta tibi pacem!

Vestrum pugnatum emerita; tu bene pugnavit.

Ite, et erit in pace."

The wraith seemed to flicker slightly, (as least, its appearance grew less clear, and more like a sheet of dull parchment left out in a heavy rainstorm) but the creature was otherwise undeterred.

Feeling his panic rising, Ryou repeated the first half of the chant, but as each phrase tumbled from his tongue, he could sense that this wasn't enough to quell the beast. 'Oh no... I can't use the herbal mixture until the wraith shows signs of truly weakening!'

He was just about to repeat the incantation a third time, when he heard a strong voice echoing his own words from beside him.

"Scio tu pertuli plurima mea tot detrimentum-"

Bakura was now chanting alongside him! Ryou was stunned that the fiend had caught the angelic words so quickly, but decided his focus was best aimed at the screaming phantom. Together, the pair repeated the dispersal chant, the specter finally starting to bow to their combined efforts.

'Now!' Ryou thought to himself as he saw the wraith's entire face start to disappear. He unstopped the small bottle and threw it directly at the creature.

The vial exploded, shards of glass flying away from the wraith while its contents turned white-hot. The wraith let out a final, distorted shriek as a pure glow attached itself to the specter. Soon the undead seraphim was twisting and sinking in a swirling beam of blinding energy. The entirety of its outline was aflame[ absorbed in the blazing, white light. There was a moment's pause, then the stunning shaft vanished altogether, taking the now-silenced wraith along with it.

Ryou stared at the now-empty cleft, his mind still struggling with what he'd just witnessed. He turned to find his guard, waiting with his arms crossed and looking almost smug as he wryly declared: "I'm not just a pretty face, you know. I've got brains as well as brawn."

The cherub only nodded blankly, before stepping up to the spot where his deceased comrade had fallen. He slowly lowered himself to his knees and clasped his hands in silent prayer for the fallen angel.

'Please be with our comrade, brothers and sisters, and welcome her to your ranks with honor- her sins of the past being-'

Bakura quickly grew bored, watching the unshackled captive silently bowing over the unmarked grave-site. Frustrated, he barely waited more than a minute before loudly interrupting. "How long are you going to be, doing that?!" But to his surprise, the angel didn't respond. Apparently Ryou felt that a final prayer was more important than appeasing his guard. Bakura was somewhat impressed by this slight show of defiance (if only because it was so unexpected) that he decided to wait without disrupting the ritual again. He leaned against a nearby boulder while the angel finished his words. Something caught his eye, though- a ragged piece of cloth was snagged on the side of one of the boulders. It had clearly come from the wraith, and looked like an Upperland warrior's sash. Even a demon like himself knew that these were status symbols to the sky-kissers. Of course, for a demon, this meant victory over a powerful enemy, and taking one such remnant was akin to holding a great war trophy. He grabbed it just before the cherub finished his prayers.

"Sorry, but I didn't want to break the prayer in case it affected the state of the spirit." The exhausted angel got up slowly, blinking back tears as he did so. "Hopefully she'll be granted safe passage into paradise, now..."

"Wait, that thing was female?!"

"Yes- she had the essence of a iresenai seraphim." Ryou hastily added upon seeing his guard's blank look, "er, a very powerful female warrior in high regard."

"Oh." The guard stared downwards at the once-cursed soil. "So even when they're dead, you can still sense other angel's emotions?"

"Well, sort of- like I said before, we angels tend to learn at an early age to cloak ourselves, to better handle social occasions. But I could still sense enough to know her story- she was driven to madness when her husband and only son were both unexpectedly called to arms, and they fell fast on the battlefield. From her deep shock I'm guessing her son was a scholarly angel, like myself."

"Hm." The dark warrior gave a last glance at the wraith's former haunt before turning around. "We should report back to King Yami. Here." Bakura made a motion to hand over the rotting sash of the wraith. "In demonic culture, the victor of a great enemy keeps a piece of the defeated being as a trophy."

But the angel looked disgusted, and he shook his head while holding his palms outward flat in refusal. "No. I will not take such a tragic reminder of a suffering spirit as some sort of personal prize."

"But- you've earned it!"

For the first time, Bakura was startled when he saw the fury lying behind the usually timid cherub's eyes. Ryou's voice grew eerily steady as he replied. "I have earned nothing. Had I not been so foolish and gotten attacked by the other demons, I may have learned of her fate earlier, and dispelled her much sooner." He kept up a surprisingly intense stare as he spoke toward the taller being. "Perhaps I could have even saved the trainee Natsuga from a truly horrific death." Ryou glanced at the sash with one final scowl. "There is nothing to rejoice in here, and I will not take a war memento of any kind." Without another word, he spun around and began marching back towards the palace.

Bakura felt somewhat baffled as they headed back. He'd never heard of a demon refusing such a token- heck, it was considered a rite of passage amongst some of the military divisions!

'What sort of creature defeats something so powerful, and then refuses credit?' At first he thought perhaps the angel felt that he had been 'cheating' by using the herbs and incantations.

"...do you feel that you have not earned this honor, because your triumph was not a physical victory?"

"What?!" Again, Ryou seemed shocked by the other's suggestion, and his expression remained tense. "No! We angels do not celebrate the loss of a life! Even an enemy's spirit is considered sacred! Taking something off their corpse is akin to flinging rotting fruit at their helpless remains! It's cruel, insulting, and unacceptable!"

"Wow." The pale fiend replied blankly. "You've really swallowed that whole party line, hook and sinker included. Do you really think your own warriors never crow about the demons they've slaughtered? That you're all oh-so-respectful and sickly-sweet? Never seeking glory, or revenge?"

Yet Ryou's expression didn't change. "I may not be an Upperlands warrior myself; but I know what my brother is like, and what our father was like."

Bakura felt like rolling his eyes- this sudden 'holier-than-thou' attitude was really getting on his nerves. "Let me ask you this, then- you speak of being a scholar back in the Upperlands, so surely you've seen tomes and artifacts there that could only have hailed from the demonic realm- pray tell me, you naive runt- how did they end up there, then?"

The look of realization on the cherub's face spread slowly, but his jaw soon dropped as his eyes widened. "No..."

"Yes." "You angels constantly make all your insipid rules and laws and cr*p, but when it comes to actually upholding them..."

"..."

"You can call us demons crude, and lawless- but at least we're honest with ourselves. We don't hide behind invisible 'cloaks' and pretend that we're all oh-so-perfect and vainglorious. We embrace the desires and habits that make us who we are, and we do not spend our days writing down pompous laws to limit the freedoms of others."

But the small cherub was silent. The horrors of facing a wraith, combined with the upheaval of his world views... it was too much.

He stopped marching, instead just standing on the stone path, staring blankly ahead.