I hadn't intended to add another chapter so soon, but I had another free day and this chapter just flowed out like a stream. I actually had to stop and break it up!
Three hours had passed since Marik had agreed to take up the Millennium Rod again. He, Yugi, and Yami had discussed at length what would (and if necessary, must) be done should anything even appear to go in the wrong direction.
The blonde sat cross legged on the floor, staring down at the golden relic before him. Yugi had placed it there before taking a seat nearby.
"You're certain I can do this?" Marik questioned, his own voice quivering in self doubt.
Yugi stood up from his seat then knelt down next to his friend, placing his hand reassuringly on the Egyptian teen's bronze shoulder.
"Like I said before, I wouldn't have even suggested it if I didn't think you could. I know that you are not the Marik from Battle City. That Marik is gone." Yugi said in a firm, but supporting tone. He continued, "You already know how to use the Millennium Rod and you have already made a connection to the Spirit of the Millennium Ring. We both know he won't just give us the answers we are looking for, so the only other way is to go where he can't hide them from us."
Marik hung his head a little. "Yeah...I guess you're right. I wish there was another way, but I guess this is risk I'll have to take. I do owe it to Ryou after all he went through because of me." He let out a huge sigh, then fixed his gaze back to the Rod. "Alright. Let's get this over with. I just hope this is a one-time deal, because I don't want to have to ever even look at this thing again."
Yugi nodded, then returned to his seat across the room. He watched as Marik delicately wrapped his fingers around the base of the relic, pulled it close to his chest, then closed his eyes.
Marik had forgotten how cold the metal felt beneath his fingers. It burned slightly, but only for a moment, until the transfer of heat from his hand warmed it. He could feel the surge of energy coursing within the object, and it called to him. There was no going back. He slid his thumb up to the ball of the object, placing it dead center while pressing slightly. The surge of energy flowed from the object and engulfed him. Marik created a mental image of the Millennium Ring and focused on it, as he had done many times during Battle City.
The object vanished and was replaced by a crimson ethereal thread. He followed it through the endless darkness for what felt like forever, constantly looking back over his shoulder. The shadows never moved, but that didn't stop him from imagining that they did. Once or twice he could have sworn he saw an all-too-familiar silhouette watching him, it's own darkness deeper than those of the shadows surrounding it.
Marik was relieved when the thread vanished and a black corridor appeared. It was short, and opened into a round room. He remembered this room. It was where he would meet with Bakura in his mind. He recalled there had been a door on each side of the room. Ryou's door had looked like it was make of steel, with a small sliding window that allowed Bakura to peer in on him as if he were a prisoner (though in this case he essentially was, Marik noted).
Bakura had assured him that Ryou could not open the door from the inside as there wasn't a handle. He even allowed Marik to peer in on the boy. He recalled seeing Ryou curled up with his knees touching his forehead, and had what appeared to be a photograph clutched tightly in one of his hands. The room itself was dark, but the objects within could be seen clearly. There were a lot of books and board games scattered about, as well as a few stuffed animals and movies.
Marik looked to where Ryou's door should have been. His eyes widened as he noticed it was missing. A quick glance across confirmed that the dark, imposing door that was obviously Bakura's room was still there.
That's odd? Were we wrong? Did Bakura find a way to get rid of Ryou's soul?
Marik noticed the missing door wasn't the only thing different. The shadows felt different too. When he had visited before, he could feel an overwhelming presence of anger, hatred, and rage. He recalled seeing a small pinhole of light in the distance. This light gave off a small presence of hope, which the shadows were trying it's best to snuff out. The light was now gone. The anger and rage were still very much present, but the hatred was gone. Instead it was replaced by sadness and despair.
Marik glanced towards the remaining door, wondering if it was even possible for him to open. He approached it cautiously. As he got closer, he noted the door didn't have a handle. Instead there was a small, unlit sconce off to the right that was obviously meant to act as a lever. He pulled down gently, and stood back as the door slid to the side.
The Egyptian teen wasn't sure what he was expecting to see in Bakura's soul room, but what appeared to be the inside of a Sheikh's tent was not it.
Like every soul room he encountered, it was permeated in darkness. Objects that represented important memories would stand out in stark contrast, often littered randomly about the room. Not Bakura's. Flowing, crimson fabric flowed down across the room like a tent. Large velvet pillows and cushions topped with exotic furs and woven blankets sat in one corner. There were highly decorative knives and dagger scattered across the floor at the foot of the cushion pile, with just as many jutting out from the wall. Near the head of what Marik now realized was Bakura's bed, there was a small onyx table with a few objects on it. Taking a deep breath he stepped inside to take a closer look.
He had taken only a few steps in when he felt a crunch beneath him. Looking down at the broken glass made him grateful that he conjured up his spirit image wearing boots. Bringing his gaze back up, he looked around and noticed that there was a lot of broken objects in diagonally opposite corner of Bakura's bed. They appeared to be glass bottles and clay jugs.
Did these contain...wine? How does that even work?!
Marik was baffled, but decided now was not the time to dwell on the peculiarities of this notion. He continued glancing around the room and noticed two doors he hadn't seen from the main entrance. He was surprised he hadn't seen the one straight ahead, considering it sat not far from the table that had originally drawn him into the room. It looked like polished black marble, with some kind of golden inscription down the right side. The inscription wasn't in any language Marik knew. He pressed a hand to cool surface, and for a second felt the energy of magic that coursed through it. Touching this door proved to be a mistake, as he was flung backwards across the room by a strong gust of wind.
WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!
Marik quickly picked himself up off the floor. This was taking too long, and with the recent surge of magic he was certain Bakura would no doubt be aware of his presence. He noted quickly looking at the other door that it was a puzzle door, not unlike the ones the Tomb-Keepers constructed to keep thieves from gaining access to the Pharaoh's tomb and inner vaults. The key to this particular door was made obvious by the indentation of the Millennium Ring. There would be no getting through that door without Bakura's assistance.
He made his way quickly to the table beside the bed and noticed the objects upon it. A statue of Ma'at, a golden band meant to be worn on a finger, and a picture fame laying face down. He lifted the frame and noticed that the glass had been shattered. In the image, Marik recognized the small, pale child with white hair and deep brown eyes to be Ryou. He couldn't have been more than a couple years in the picture. He was smiling and walking towards a man with arms out-stretched to catch him. Behind him was a woman with identical features that was also smiling. This must have been Ryou's mother. She held he hand protectively over a small bump on her abdomen, indicating she was pregnant with Ryou's younger sister at the time the photo was taken.
The teen recalled when questioning if the family of the Spirit's host would be an issue, the Spirit had replied with a snicker. He had explained that Ryou's mother and sister were dead, and the man the boy called father was always gone on some archaeological expedition.
Marik finally looked over towards the man in the picture. He looked nearly identical to Ryou, except his skin was a shade of dark bronze. He had a scar down his right eye that stitched across his right cheek. He was smiling as well, his ash-violet eyes beaming with pride towards little Ryou. Marik noticed something else in the picture: the Millennium Ring. It was around the neck of what Marik could only assume was Ryou's father.
Why would Bakura have something like this? And why is that man in possession of the Ring?
The questions had barely formed in his mind when he felt cold metal across his throat.
"You look a little lost, Tomb Keeper. I wonder what would happen to your body if I were to slit your throat in here?"
Dammit! I knew I was taking too long! I should have left after that spell went off!
"We just want to know what happened to our friend. We knew you would never tell us, so we took matters into our own hands." Marik choked out.
"We?"
Shit! Why did I say it like that?!
The blade was lowered slowly from Marik's neck, but he didn't move. A pale hand reached forth and jerked the photo frame from his hands, placing it back to where he had first picked it up from.
"Get out."
Marik didn't have to be told twice. He rushed back through the darkness so fast that when he reached his body, it literally lurched forward as he re-entered.
I had fun with this chapter! I'm already a paragraph into the next one, but it most likely won't get finished and posted until later in the week. Gotta do that work thing so I can pay bills *ugh*.