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Chapter 28

Out of the Shadows of Time

"I refuse your bargain!" Atem snarls, clutching the leather cord around his neck even tighter.

The thief frowns, apparently not having expected this response. His attention is so focused on the Pharaoh he never notices his horse becoming skittish, never sees the softly shifting hooves. When one of the wolves slinks within pouncing range the horse rears, catching Bakura off guard. Realizing the trap that has been laid, Bakura urges the horse forward, running once more. Even as they run after him Atem knows there isn't much time. Diabound hasn't ceased his attacks once and though Slifer is a God the Pharaoh is still mortal.

As they enter the cliffs surrounding the city a particularly loud cry of agony comes from Slifer and Atem slumps over, clutching his chest against the burning pain welling within. He hears a soft whine and then a black muzzle enters his vision. Dimly he notices he's slipping from his horse, an act that could end very badly. When the pain fades to a deep ache Atem makes a decision. He reaches over, grabbing a handful of Ch'ewata's scruff and pulls himself over to sit on her back.

Slifer takes another hit and Atem groans, gritting his teeth against the pain. "After them," He pants, grasping clumps of fur in a death grip. "Ch'ewata. We need to catch him." The wolf barks and Atem can feel the powerful muscles beneath him tighten before she darts forward, quickly catching up with the others. Somehow Bakura barely manages to stay out of their reach.

Until there's no more ground to run on. Gritting his teeth, Atem sits up to find they're on one of the many cliff plateaus surrounding the city. How they had managed to get up here he isn't sure. But now isn't the time to worry about such questions. "Fīdeli, feed." The white muzzle lurches forward, aiming not at the thief but at the horse under him. Unfortunately Bakura leaps off as the wolf takes out the horse, graphite grey eyes wide and he turns back. The Pharaoh and wolves move closer, entrapping him.

Ch'ewata knocks him to the ground, one heavy paw settling on the tomb robber's chest and Atem glares from his seat on her back. "It's over, Bakura. Any last words?"

Bakura isn't afraid. There's not an ounce of fear in his entire being and it confuses and frustrates Atem. Instead the thief smirks, looking at something the Pharaoh can't see. There's a blast of green light then Atem is on the ground, his body smarting from the scratches and bruises marring his skin. He sits up—how did he hit the ground?—and looks around to find the pack scattered across the plateau in various states of consciousness. Bakura stands in the middle of the plateau while Slifer and Diabound sit in a tightly bound knot over their heads.

Atem grits his teeth, attempting to get to his feet. He can't give up. To stay down is to give up, to roll over and let the thief win. On shaky legs he finds his feet but it's not for long. A hard bite from Diabound's asp sends him back to his knees in a wave of pain. Slifer's gone, the magic he'd been using to keep the dragon present no longer able to withstand the constant attacks.

Bakura stalks closer, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Not so mighty now, are you Pharaoh?" He chuckles. Bending down he wraps one hand around the puzzle, the other holding a knife to Atem's throat. "Let me ask you. Any last words?"

This is his end. Atem knows this and fears it. For the first time he truly fears for himself and his kingdom and there's not a damn thing he can do about it. Anger boils in his gut before fizzling out just as quickly as it came. He doesn't have the energy for it, much less stopping Bakura. Closing his eyes the Pharaoh swallows the blood at the back of his throat and mutters the only thing that comes to his pain fogged mind. "I'm sorry, Heba."

The memory shifts, changing from Atem's view of Bakura into rapidly becoming familiar red stone walls. Yugi watches in fascination as the scene appears to be frozen before he's once more looking through the Queen's eyes.

He can feel it, the fight is going badly. Even when he can barely see the monsters through the breaks in the cliffs overhead he just knows his Love is faring badly. Gritting his teeth he turns back to his companions. "Continue to the palace!" Heba barks. "Birihani, Asimati, to me!" The Queen shifts in his saddle, tightening his thighs against the mare's sides and takes off at a full gallop toward the fight.

No more than a few strides later the wolves are racing ahead, guiding him through the maze of stone, up the slope onto the plateau. He leaps off his horse, running toward the pharaoh and the wolves run off toward Diabound, the others slowly getting up to join the fight once more. Balling his fist, Heba comes up with a right hook, knocking Bakura on his ass and away from Atem. The Queen stands in front of his exhausted lover, keeping him from the thief's sight and mauve eyes attempt to burn a hole into their enemy. "You've got a lot of nerve, Tomb Robber." He hisses.

When he feels a shaky touch on his hand, he reacts automatically, pushing his own energy into his other. A few moments later Atem is standing beside him. It's a gut feeling that has him looking at the Pharaoh in question. Reading his friend's expressions has always been easy, and when he realizes what Atem plans he nods in agreement. Atem calls on Heba's magic, taking and taking until the Queen begins to feel lightheaded. He's vaguely aware of words coming from both his and Atem's mouth then a flash of light and heat reminiscent of days spent lounging on the banks of the life river.

The memory flickers, Yugi becoming more aware of feelings and sensations than an actual memory.

Screams.

Pain.

Fear.

Falling.

A blood stained hand, covered in dust and sand, reaching for a blurred figure just out of reach.

Atem...

Unknowlingly Yugi's hands clench, his nails almost cutting into his palms. He knows Yami is still alive, knows Heba hadn't died here, but he can't help the fear and worry that flood his system at the thought they'd come so close. Swallowing that fear he forces himself to continue watching, focusing on the sounds trickling through Heba's ears.

Soft pawsteps. Blood. Black shapes surrounding. Too slow. Too quiet. Whimpering. Wetness. A bolt like lightning. Howls. His eyesight is clearing. Out of the darkness he can just make out a soft golden glow illuminating emerald eyes. "Mana." He chokes, raising an arm that feels just a little too flexible. "Help 'Tem."

He's tired. So very tired. All he wants to do is sleep but faint babbling keeps him awake, keeps his mind from slipping away into the darkness awaiting him. Instead Heba watches Mana work to heal the worst of Atem's wounds before she moves to him. Green magic, so alike to her eyes glows over his body and he can feel his body healing, the broken bones he had no idea he had set themselves, sprains, cuts, and the tears in his skin close leaving him whole if much more sore then he had been before.

The exhaustion remains but the Queen pushes it aside, taking the hand that enters his vision and helps him to his feet. Once he's steady he turns to find Atem sitting up with his head in hands. Heba's happy his love is alive though it's tempered by the confusion and grief of the carnage that lies around them. They and their wolves have gotten caught in what appears to be a rockslide, and not a natural one either if the heavy scent of magic in the air is to go by. In the debris of the fall he can spot the wolves laying at odd angles, their beautiful fur matted with blood and strong muscles limp in the grasp of death.

Swallowing his grief, Heba limps to Atem, offering the Pharaoh a hand and together they stand once more.

Yugi wipes his eyes, attempting to erase the tears gathered on his lashes. He's only known the wolves through their memories and yet it feels as if he has lost a group of friends he never got to know. When his tears are gone he turns to the spirit. How did Mana find you? If the pack was with you and Yami how did she know where to look?

Heba's eyes crinkle with amusement, his lips twitching as if to smile. We were experimenting with spells in one of Mahad's spellbooks he'd forbidden us from using and she managed to summon a shadow Imp named Hasan. They became fast friends and she made a contract with him. I know not if they're still in a contract but at the time Hasan was our saving grace. It was he who traced our magic trail and found us in enough time for Mana to save us.

The teen makes a note to ask the Sorceress about it later and takes a deep breath. Already he has seen so much, learned so much more than he thought he'd known about his wolf but...there is still so much more to learn. So many questions left unanswered. He nods, burning amethyst meeting darkened mauve. I'm ready.

Muscles surge beneath him, wind and sand whipping at his hair and battered body. Three horses, three panting breaths, each taking their turn to fill the chilly air as he and his friends race on. Just ahead and to his right a soft glow comes from Mana's hand, her other keeping a tight grip on her horse's reins. The Pharaoh can just make out the transparent form of the imp pointing them in the direction of their enemy.

He still doesn't know how the Tomb Robber has managed to move across Kehmet as he has but something instinctive warns Atem they'll know before Ra breaches the eastern horizon. Inhaling, he quietly urges the horses faster, to continue running. They've already run so far, the palace and their near death earlier far behind over the dunes of Kehmet's vast desert.

White knuckles grow even paler at the thought and the leather in his ring adorned hands creaks. He'd almost died—they had almost died—because he's not strong enough. Mana is right to call him an idiot for summoning all three of the shadow Gods in one night, a feat he'd never been able to complete before and only managed because his love had given him the strength to summon the third. He doesn't know how he'll be able to find the strength to summon them when they'll have to face Diabound again.

As they crest one dune, Mana slows to a stop, and he and Heba follow her lead, coming to stand beside her. Off in the distance they can just make out the ruins of what was once a small village. In all his lessons, Atem doesn't remember this village in any of the maps his Uncle had shown him and yet here it lays a scar on the golden sands of Kehmet's skin. He frowns, turning to the apprentice Sorceress. "Are you sure, Mana?"

The glow surrounding the imp in her hand swirls in chaotic patterns in the direction of the ruins and she nods, her expression serious. "Hasan's positive. Bakura's hiding there. He says there's a lot of anger and grief hidden in the ruins and the thief is using it to fuel he and his Ka."

"I'm not surprised." Heba mutters, his features downcast. "If the village was massacred, think of all the negative thoughts and emotions that would come with it. 'Tem, this isn't going to be an easy fight."

"I know, 'Ba." Atem sighs, spurring his horse on. "Come on. The sooner we face him the sooner we stop him." Together the childhood friends make their way to the ruined village, their eyes alert and heads on a swivel. The closer they get the more Atem can feel his magic reacting to the latent energy left by the souls of the dead. It scratches at him, claws at his own darkened emotions, and he wants nothing more than to take his friends and return to their lives as it had been before this nightmare happened.

Halfway down a path that could've once been the main path for traffic they come to a low building with only a yawning opening and steps leading into darkness. Sharing a look, the trio dismounts and Mana turns to the opening, Hasan's aura flaring bright enough to nearly blind them. Mana blinks then looks at Atem. "This is it. Down these steps there's a pit of darkness. Hasan's too afraid to even go near it to try and pinpoint where Bakura is hiding. He's saying about a lock and the keys but I can't understand much."

Heba walks up on her other side and reaches out, running a hand over the face of the trinket the imp is bound to. His actions have the desired effect and the golden aura calms down, fading back into the small sarcophagus-like head. When Mana glares at his love, Atem just shakes his head and steps toward the opening. "Come on, you two. Lets get this over with." Stepping through the doorway is like stepping into darkness itself, much darker than the shadows have ever been for him and his friends. It weighs heavily on their shoulders, colder than any night they've ever experienced.

Down steps of stone, slick with sand, past the sounds of slithering and the skittering of animals crawling around them they trod until a soft light appears at the end of the tunnel. Weary, Atem pushes Heba behind him, ensuring he would be the one to walk into any traps instead of his other. The light grows stronger, eventually evening out into the flicker of torch light. Atem slows to a crawl, coming to a stop at the edge of the shadow leading into what appears to be a cavern where a stone sarcophagus lying on a raised dais sits in the middle of the chamber. In the top of the sarcophagus Atem can see impressions, one in particular catching his notice with it's similarity to the puzzle around his neck.

As they watch, Bakura steps up to the stone softly murmuring under his breath, the millennium ring in his hands. Mana softly gasps, Heba grabbing Atem's arm in a death grip and the Pharaoh steps into the light, crimson eyes hard. "Bakura!"

The thief looks up, angry eyes landing on Atem but doesn't cease his muttering. When Atem takes another step forward Bakura's volume rises allowing the Pharaoh to recognize the rough gutteral language for what it is. "Vind, ild, jord og vann! Spirits følger oppmerksomheten min! Frakt disse mørkede sjeler til et sted jeg velger. Så det er sagt så det er gjort!" As the thief spits out the last syllable the magic in the air changes. A wind, much colder than anything he has ever felt before fills the room turning their breath to fog. The fog expands, brightening with an unnatural light until Atem is forced to close his eyes.

When the light fades and warmth begins to return to the air Atem opens his eyes to find they're in the last place he'd expected them to be. His jaw nearly drops when he recognizes his throne room, all of his priests standing off to the side of the throne staring at them in confusion. A familiar cackle earns his attention and the Pharaoh turns to see Bakura standing beside the now upright sarcophagus grinning at him.

"Welcome home, Pharaoh." The thief spits, his eyes burning with rage.

Atem snarls, one hand balling into a fist. "What is the meaning of this, Bakura? Why do you do this? Why here?"

"The death of my village will be repaid." He replies. "And you will repay it by losing everything you hold close. This sarcophagus is the seal of Zorc Necrophades, the strongest Shadow Monster ever known. By returning the millenium items to their rightful places I will unleash him upon Kehmet. Why here?" Bakura's grin darkens even further with bloodlust and he gestures at the chamber at large. "This is the center of it all. This palace, this city. By unleashing Zorc here your precious city will fall first."

Unnoticed a shadow rises behind the thief before it lashes out, catching Bakura across the back of the neck. Bakura grunts in pain, falling forward onto his knees and turns, his eyes going wide as Aknadin steps forward. Atem sighs in relief at the sight of his Uncle having surprised the thief. Until his Uncle chuckles, the sound causes a warning to flare in Atem's gut.

"You stupid fool," Aknadin smirks, eyeing the downed thief. "You think too small. To unleash Zorc and let him run rampant is one thing. But to unseal him and command his power is a much different thought altogether. Use him to depose the farce of a Pharaoh and claim the throne that rightfully should've been ours from the beginning."

"Aknadin!" Shimon barks, his eyes wide with shock. "You've gone mad."

The millenium eye wielder chuckles, his eyes never straying from the thief at his feet. "On the contrary, Shimon, I've never seen more clearly. We've done nothing but fight for a weakling who can barely fend off a lowly thief. Why should such a burden be on the throne when someone much stronger carries the royal blood and is willing to put his life on the line for Kehmet? With Zorc on our side we will be unstoppable. Isn't that right, Seth?"

The High Priest recoils in shock, his grasp around the millenium rod white knuckled. "What is this blasphemy you speak of, Aknadin?"

"Don't you remember, Seth? No, of course you wouldn't." He states more than questions. "You were much too young when I had you and your mother sent away for your own safety. Nevertheless you are my son and the rightful heir to the throne of Kehmet. Come with me, my son. Lend me your strength and I will grant you the title you deserve."

A deathly silence falls upon the chamber at his words. Atem and Heba are unable to make hide nor hair of the mad priest's words and the other priests attempt to make sense of what they'd just learned. Finally Seth scowls, glaring at his father. "I will never help you with such treason. My loyalty lies with the Pharaoh and I will protect him until my dying breath."

Aknadin tenses, all emotion washing from his features. When Seth creeps closer the priest lashes out, striking him with a wave of magic that sends the High Priest sprawling. Atem need not look long to know Seth won't rise from such a blow. Realizing the situation has just gone from dire to deadly, the Pharaoh's crimson eyes go cold, anger lending him strength.

"You will never take my throne, Aknadin." His voice carries only a low chilling tone colder than any evening he has experienced in Kehmet. The throne had been his Father's, had been handed down to him with the weight and responsibility of caring for the entirety of Kehmet and the people. He'd fought tooth and nail through his own demons in order to understand that and become a Pharaoh his people would not only respect but love as well. To know that his Uncle of all people would dare take that away? "Seize him!"

The teen's barely able to witness the Pharaoh Atem and his priests lurch forward before he's pulled from the memory leaving him in the room of darkness and confusion once more. Taking a moment he gathers his wits, reigning in his emotions then looks to the Queen and Guardian of Yami's flame. What was that? How did Bakura do what he did? Why did Aknadin behave the way he did?

When Heba tilts his head in thought Yugi gets the feeling he's being analyzed for some reason or another, mauve eyes carefully scrutinizing his every move. At last his stance shifts, that analytical gaze fading away and the Queen raises one hand to reveal a memory sitting in the palm of his hand. Upon closer inspection Yugi recognizes it to be from the time Yami had attended his Father's court, the one when they received the wolves.

Yek'oda k'oda was the name we gave them when we saw them. He explains softly. Their language was rough and hard to follow but the few of us that bothered to learn it learned they called themselves Vayikīnigi. Their magic was nothing like ours. Whereas ours was the power of the shadows and the ability to summon, theirs was capable of summoning the spirits of nature to do their bidding. They could command water to be as strong as metal or as cold as Set's breath. Fire would not burn when they asked it. The stone, the sand, even the mud of the life river contorted to their wishes with ease. The wind, in all it's might, blew ever in their favor. When they sailed the life river it was always at their backs granting them safe passage.

From that first meeting on, we saw them a handful of times more. Each time they would stay the duration of the dry season, teach us their ways in exchange for learning ours. Bakura researched and practiced long into the use of the northern magics to be able to cast a spell requiring the use of all four spirits. He closes his hand, forcing the memory to dispel the same time he closes his eyes, releasing an exhausted sigh.

When he opens them Yugi could almost say the Queen appears older. The way his shoulders droop, as if there's a massive weight lying upon them. And Yugi can do nothing more then again. Hadn't he been in much the same way during the Tatiana debacle? Hadn't he wanted nothing more than to hide in his wolf's fur and forget the world existed? Deciding he doesn't like the defeated look on Heba's face, Yugi searches for a way to distract him. After a moment something comes to mind.

Heba? He calls out almost hesitantly. Once mauve eyes focus on him again, he pushes forward. What about you?

What about me? Heba asks in return, confusion evident even in his voice. Struggling to voice the question lying within his mind, he eventually just decides to hell with it and blurts it out, watching the unbreakable Queen falter in his bearing. Then his lips slowly curl upward, resembling a smile if a bit strained and he crosses his arms. You want to know why I couldn't do magic like the rest? He almost sounds incredulous, if only Yugi could say the spirit looked as much.

When Yugi nods, Heba sighs. There were two kinds of magic we knew about then. Our shadow magic and to a lesser extent the magic of the Yek'oda k'oda. I could do magic but I could never do shadow magic like Atem or Mana. I couldn't summon a Ka, or complete a spell because it always went awry. When the northerners arrived I had hoped I would've been able to learn their magic but that was even more difficult than shadow magic. Nigh on impossible in fact. He pauses, before a chuckle escapes his lips. There was one time where Mana and Atem were learning the magic. I had been forbidden from learning it after I almost got Shimon eaten by his robes. Mana and Atem had convinced me to try again only...the palace did not fare so well from the aftermath.

Yugi can't help it. He sweatdrops at the Queen's sheepish expression. You destroyed the palace?

No, the explosion wasn't anything that large. If anything the training grounds and the south wing needed to be repaired, but the training grounds were in need of redecorating after all so it was a win. However, after that incident I learned… Heba trails off, his eyes in a point somewhere far behind Yugi. After a moment he shakes himself and turns his attention back to the teen. A familiar gesture Yugi has seen in Yami more than a few times. We learned our magic would never be even similar to Mana's or Atem's. The way Mahad had described it, the magic I held closest to my heart was much more destructive, much more feral than any magic even he had seen. I hadn't understood what he meant until the night it all went wrong. When we fell into that chasm, the wolves saved us in exchange for their own lives. They had a small amount of magic each deep within their being they could not actively use but it is what gave them their abilities to be such silent predators despite their size. Together the pack used that magic to heal us and in doing so transferred the very essence of their being into my hand.

Yugi recalls something of the ilk from the memory Yami had shown him of that night. He remembers the shadows rising around Heba forming the pack of wolves he hadn't known at the time were Heba and Yami's favored pets. How did you know it was the pack?

I didn't. Heba confides quietly, dark mauve eyes drifting in Yami's direction. It took me nearly a century of being bound to the puzzle to understand what happened that night and what I started. Yugi goes to ask another question but Heba waves a hand, cutting him off. Yes, it was Atem that made the bargain with Horus but it was I who made it possible for him to be able to do so. If I had not recreated the wolves from shadow their magic very well would have laid dormant within us until our deaths be it that night or at the end of our natural lives. When Horus changed the flow of magic across the world he drew upon the magic the wolves instilled in those nearest to him and created something called the shadow seed.

A flick of his wrist causes a black—Yugi would almost call it a gem were it not for the writhing shifting shadows flickering in the faint light—ball the size of a peach pit to form in the palm of the Queen's hand. This is a shadow seed, the essence of what a Shadow Wolf is and the power that fuels their magic. With another flick of his wrist, the seed disappears in a wisp of smoke and Heba closes his eyes. The magic I used to create it, required nearly more than I was able to give but it was not what stole me from our love's hands. Even if Aknadin had turned traitor I could tell there was something blocking his sight, something that kept him from the man he'd been the entire time Atem and I were growing up so I fixed it.

He opens his eyes, a semblance of a flame Yugi has never seen there writhing within the mauve depths. I've looked back on it a hundred different ways, examined the memories a thousand times wondering what I could've done differently but each time I come to the same conclusion. If I hadn't overused my magic to pull that phantasm from his mind we all would've died anyway when the seal broke and Zorc was released. I do not regret my choices, then and now for they put our love on the path to the future he's been seeking since I died.

A question occurs to the teen, something Heba had said several times now that he thinks about it, alluding to an important piece of information Yugi is having trouble seeing. Show me. He demands quietly, his own eyes alighting with an inferno of determination. Stop beating around the bush, Heba. Whatever it is, I can handle it. Heba merely arches a brow before a memory is rising between them, its surface gray with age, the edges crumbling to dust before his eyes. Unfaltering, Yugi lashes out, dragging his fingers across the surface to activate it.

Gone...Gone...Gone...Gone from his sight. Ripped from his grasp. First his most loyal friend, then the rest of the pack and now...His love, his everything...Crimson eyes find their way to the window where in the distance he can make out the ruins of the city. Even now, four rises after that night the acrid smell of smoke and charred bodies has yet to leave. A painful reminder amongst many of what was lost in the path of chaos and destruction.

"Pharaoh?" Atem frowns, forcing back a sigh as he turns to his priests scattered around a set of wooden desks. Had the throne room not been destroyed with the fighting they'd be having this meeting there instead of residing in the library. As it is, there's a void in his chest that says there's very little reason he should care where they have meetings when he very much doesn't want to be here anyway. Mahad, for all he normally carries a stoic expression, looks worried. "Pharaoh, are you okay?"

It should be Shimon asking that. A treacherous part of his mind tells him. Unfortunately where his oldest advisor and grandfather figure had once stood is empty, the Elder having been lost in the fighting. Now Mahad stands close, if not where Shimon once stood, and attempts to engage his attention. Something the Pharaoh is finding to be an extremely difficult task. "I'm fine, Priest Mahad. Continue with your discussions."

Looking unsure, Mahad returns to explaining several numbers listed on a scroll. The counted deaths from the city outside the palace gates.

Whereas there were once seven advisors on his side there now stand four. Shimon and Karim lost in the battle, the traitor Aknadin banished from the palace and city proper. Leaving him with Isis, Mahad, Shada, and an equally distracted Seth. Along with the death of the pack and his love, the death toll has already risen to eleven without counting the deaths amongst the guards and even further still to the city. So many dead. Unconsciously he clenches his fists, his knuckles going white under the force. All because I was not strong enough. Heba, what do I do?

The Pharaoh knows what he wants to do. More than anything he wants to disappear from the sights of his guards and priests. But... he can't. Not when there's still so much to be done. They've all been busy trying to help the wounded, clear the debris, and return to a semblance of the life they'd had before that dreadful night.

"Pharaoh?" The question grabs Atem's attention and he looks to Isis leaning against one of the desks. The raven-haired Priestess frowns, her brows furrowed with worry. "You're awfully distracted, are you sure you're okay?"

His jaw clenches at the question. "I'm fi—"

"No you're not." There's only one person who would willingly interrupt him. Mana steps out of the shadows of a bookshelf, the bags under her bloodshot eyes matching his in the darkness and telling signs of their grief. In her hand her golden staff appears more of a walking aid then the magical item it is but it is the emerald at the top that truly reflects her emotions. Whereas the fist sized gem would normally be alight with magical power it now sits dim in its holdings. "Admit it, Atem. You're in no shape to be—"

"That is enough." Atem barks, having heard enough. He doesn't want to listen to it anymore. Not when he knows she's right. He stands up, anger within dull crimson eyes. "Mahad, rein in your apprentice. I will not hear of such speak. This meeting is over."

With that he stalks out of the room, his anger fading away the further he gets from the library until he finds himself standing in front of the doors to the gardens with a hollow feeling in his chest and tears on his lashes. Heba, please forgive me. Pushing on one of the double doors he enters the luscious wealth of green at a slow pace, not paying attention to his direction until he reaches the base of one of the few palm trees clustered in the center of the space. Leaning against the tree, he slowly slides down until he's sitting against its base, the rough bark scratching at his back even through his tunic.

And he takes a deep breath, the air warmed by Ra's ascent digging at the barriers within his mind. Alone, the Pharaoh knows he can show the weakness he cannot in front of his people. Alone, he can be the man of nineteen summers who grieves. Alone, he cannot be for alone is just another reminder of all he has lost. There is no huff of a gentle breath at his shoulder from a worried wolf. There is no laughter or a warm hand on his shoulder reminding him he need not carry the burdens of his responsibilities alone. Instead all Atem hears are the desert birds hiding amongst the greenery. All he sees are the vibrant hues of greens and the colorful flowers that litter the hedges. All he feels…

I am empty. He thinks forlornly, one hand grasping his chest. What right do I have to live when my reason for living is dead? Horus said I would get my wish but if that were so wouldn't I have Heba back already? Wouldn't I feel something other than empty?

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it." Drawn from his thoughts, Atem looks up to find Mana standing in front of him, her staff still positioned much the same way it had in the library—her own form of support if he were to hazard a guess. She frowns, slowly kneeling until her legs are folded under her and her staff lies beside her in the grass.

In the light her bloodshot eyes are more visible and Atem gives an uncharacteristic flinch when he realizes he's taken his own frustrations out on her in the library. "Sorry." He mutters for her ears only. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately." It's a bad apology but it's the only one he currently has the energy and will to give her.

The apprentice gives a strained solemn smile in return, acknowledging the apology with a minute tilt of her head. Though the smile fades almost immediately leaving her looking as tired as he feels. "I don't like seeing you like this, 'Tem. Quiet, withdrawn, it's not you. I know 'Ba is gone but you need to remember there's more than just him. With the way our magic has changed and these...these…" Mana struggles, scowling at herself for her lack of words before spitting out, "animal forms Isis keeps talking about there's going to be more on our plates before we're ready to handle it unless you pick your head up and lead us. You are the Pharaoh. Lord of the Two Lands and High Priest of Every Temple."

He can't stop himself from scoffing at that description. After having seen a true God face to face, his pitiful amount of strength is naught more than a grain of sand in comparison.

"How can I lead Kehmet, Mana?" He demands. "How can I be the Pharaoh the people need when I'm not strong enough to protect even those closest to me? Heba is dead because I wasn't strong enough. Shimon, Karim, Countless guards and people are dead because I couldn't stop Bakura when he first stormed the palace. The wolves, our friends, are dead BECAUSE I AM WEAK." Tears roll down his cheeks in steady streams, the apprentice's emerald eyes blurring in a smudge of green. He raises his hands to his head, fingertips meeting the golden eye of Wadjet adorning his brow and he rips it off, tossing it across the lawn. A sob escapes him and he pushes his hands into his hair, grabbing fistfuls of the wild mane in an attempt to ground himself.

It fails, leaving him gasping for a simple breath. The one presence that had been able to calm him, even after his Father passed, is no longer there to do so, driving the heavy ache in his chest even deeper. "I couldn't save him, Mana. I couldn't save them." Atem repeats those words as if they're a mantra, the only words able to make any sense to him all the while continuously digging in the thorn that is his own weakness.

When, at last, his tears slow and his body is dragging with fatigue he's left staring at the span of grass between them with a sense of detachment. The emotions that were stored away in the aftermath having broken free of their binds and run their course. Taking an unsteady inhale, the Pharaoh eventually turns his eyes up to meet Mana's own glistening gems once more. "Heba was the breath of fresh air I needed when it became too hard. He was the one that made it easy to handle the duties of being Pharaoh. He reminded me every day that my life wasn't just paperwork and taxes. Wasn't just deciding the fate of criminals and meeting envoys from the other countries. I can't do it without him, Mana. Without Heba I am nothing."

He doesn't know if it's the tone of his voice, devoid of emotion even to his ears, or something Mana sees in his expression for she bites her lip, her eyes drifting to the side. After a moment she hesitantly murmurs, "There...might...be a way." Somewhere within the void in his chest a small flame resembling hope ignites and he perks up, his fatigue fading away. The apprentice sighs, emerald eyes finding his crimson once more. "I don't know for sure, there's a lot the priests still have to learn about what Horus did to our magic, but if I ask Mahad we may be able to find a way to ensure you find Heba again."

Unable to help himself, Atem lurches forward, wrapping his arms around the brunette's shoulders in a tight hug. "Thank you." He dares to breathe.

"Don't thank me yet." Mana huffs, her attitude at odds to the way she gently returns the surprise hug. "We still have to see if it's possible."

Yugi blinks when he realizes he's back in his spot in front of the Queen. He frowns, turning around, this way and that before facing Heba once more. Is that it? Isn't there another memory after that?

If there were it would be in the packmind, Heba explains softly, his features turning down. As far as I've found, those memories within Atem's heart are far too faded. However, only a Wolf with the ancient magic is allowed within the memory archives. Even though you and I are bound to Atem, we do not have the magic required to access them.

Taking that in mind, Yugi turns over what he's seen and heard. Several observations he's made easily explain some of the more confusing parts but...There's one thing he's not sure about. The faded light he's witnessed within Heba's eyes he now knows is familiar for he's seen it more than once and from a stranger's face. Had he not known what he does it would never make sense. Amethyst eyes narrow in thought as they meet mauve.

What is it you're not telling me, Heba? Why am I the only one who can reveal the claw in the puzzle? Why is Yami kind to me when he doesn't like Humans? Where do I sit in this puzzle?!

Heba's eyes crinkle in amusement but other than that his expression never changes. For someone so bright, the fact you cannot see what sits in front of your nose is amusing. Tell me, Yenē ākali, did you not feel the void in your soul when you took off the puzzle? Were you not missing something that left you a part without the whole? Yugi frowns, trying to understand what he's asking. He doesn't remember much from his time without the pendant. He doesn't even know how much time has passed since that day. Before that, he'd always just felt…

Lonely, He breathes after a moment. Before I solved the puzzle I was always lonely. I'd always taken it as not having any friends but it was more than that wasn't it?

Solemnly Heba nods. When a person dies their soul travels to the Afterlife where they spend an amount of time before they're reincarnated into a new life. After I began my journey to the Afterlife the Priests splintered my soul and attached a piece to the puzzle. He raises one hand, setting it on his chest. I am that piece, one of the few remaining from a time of history lost to the sands of Kehmet. The bindings of the puzzles are such that only the other part of our soul could unlock the pendant thus binding ourselves to Atem once more. The former Queen looks up, his eyes pleading. Do you not see? You and I? We are one in the same, two halves of one soul.

*coughs* Sooo yeah, Mana wanting to help her best friend leads us to where the story began. Albeit in a circuitous route that I doubt anyone really bothered to pay attention to. Ngl, kinda burnt y'all don't like the story but I wrote this more for myself than for others so *shrug* It is what it is. I knew what I was getting into when I started posting this. The last chap goes up Friday. If there's sequel, then there's a sequel. If not then it and the other stories die in my folders with the other rabbits.

In other news, I just started posting a pokemon fic called Red and Blue. If y'all are into the fandom feel free to check it out.

Translations!

Ahmaric:

Ch'elema (Darkness)

T'ila (Shadow)

Birihani (Light)

Ch'ewata (Game)

Āsimati (Magic)

Fīdeli (Spell)

Yek'oda k'oda (Fur skins)

Vayikīnigi (Vikings or Vikingr)

Yenē ākali (part of my soul)

Norwegian:

"Vind, ild, jord og vann! Spirits følger oppmerksomheten min! Frakt disse mørkede sjeler til et sted jeg velger. Så det er sagt så det er gjort!" - Wind, Fire, Earth, and Water! Spirits heed my call! Transport these darkened souls to a place of my choosing. So it is said so it is done.

Hope y'all enjoyed the chap. If ya did, leave a review, I love to read them.

Grizzly out for the night.