The Magicians' Realm Chapter 111: Piecing Together, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

Chapter 111, everybody! Look at all those ones, they please me. :D

In other news, I very rarely laugh at my own writing, probably because I've gone over it so many times, but I told Mom about the exchange between Skulduggery and Jack and she thought it was funny, so that might be a good sign. We kind of need the lighter bit after running into Skul's description too….

Also we're apparently a few years off from being able to revive dinosaurs so…I don't care I know I'd die five minutes in but give me real-life Jurassic Park. The sexy but not like we're trying too hard line comes from somewhere, but my first experience with it comes from an Avengers gif set so I will forever associate it with Captain America and Hawkeye. Also quick reference to The Road to El Dorado.

Angiembabe, thanks for the review! No it doesn't—so weird….Me too actually. ^^; And yes he does have a relation to Yami M! but if it prevents them going there, then who are the kids dealing with?...

References:

Original characters, + setting © Kineil D. Wicks (myself, not the girl in the story)

Yami and company were kept busy with lectures they didn't really hear, food they didn't eat, and various dead men hustling them every which way, as though desperate to convince them they were on the up-and-up.

Or rather, desperate to keep them distracted. But from what?

Whatever it was, they weren't given the opportunity to deviate, considering the phalanx of dead denizens constantly keeping track of them. From the way they behaved, there was something going on that needed addressing, something that they wanted the kids away from. But again, what that was he couldn't say.

"Hey, Kineil! I need a hand here!" Hephaestus hollered down an alley they were passing.

Kineil paused in her herding, thinking, then turned to Hephaestus and did a few slow claps.

"Hur hur," Hephaestus noised. "Just come down here and help already."

Yami watched her go—it looked like the town square—which, if he thought about it, they hadn't been to since they arrived.

Jonouchi started to follow her.

She spun around so fast that Jonouchi ran into her. "And where do you think you're going?" she asked.

Despite her being a head shorter than Jonouchi, she was doing a good job of cowing him—those glowing orange eyes were probably a good reason. "You think I should stay here?"

"I think that would be wise. I'll be back," she added to the rest of them. "Go bother Bakura for a while."

"I swear, some people have no patience for the younger generation," Bakura Necromancer sighed dramatically.

"They don't have the patience for the older generation either," Kineil tossed back, disappearing down the alley.

"What is she helping him with?" Yami asked, watching Bakura Necromancer's reaction carefully.

His expression told Yami that the first and correct answer was not one he was willing to share. "It's difficult to say," Bakura Necromancer said finally. "But come along! We've still got a full itinerary to attend to."

Right. Sure they did. And the moon was actually made of green cheese.

"What do you think they're working on down there?" Anzu asked, looking.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "But whatever it is, it can't be good."

*\*/*

This was so not good.

Matter of fact, this was the opposite of good. This wasn't even in a place where good could be seen.

"What did we agree on about taking work home?" Idgy asked, gesturing at the folders weighing down the kitchen table. "Because I feel like you need reminding."

"I don't trust that these won't go missing if I left them in my office," Skulduggery muttered around the pen he had clenched in his teeth—tug it out and jot down a new connection.

"Did Dad bring home homework?" Jack asked Idgy. "Dad actually has homework?"

"Unfortunately."

Okay, Jack's expression was actually worth this whole mess. "Now wait a minute—that's not fair! You mean I'm never going to outgrow homework?"

Skulduggery looked at the mess before him. "Now that is a dire predicament indeed."

"You'll be fine," Idgy assured Jack, shooing him out the door. "Your dad just got bored with nothing to do and went up north to find something."

As soon as he was gone, she rounded on Skulduggery. "And did you have to?"

"Oddly enough, this may be why I wasn't getting anything," he said, gesturing. "Cases from all over the Allied States, instances where Magicians were tried and convicted on bare-bones charges, all of it obviously fraudulent but run through at speed, and then said Magicians were charged with the worst punishment imaginable."

"They were killed?"

"Trust me, they wish they were dead," Skulduggery said darkly, glowering at the files. "And these are just what that bloke up north gave me. Whatever this is…it's systematic, and the Administration is doing its best to do it under the radar."

Idgy looked at one of the files—looked at him. "Stripped of their magic?" she asked. "What does that do?"

"Imagine, if you will, something being with you all your life and then having that ripped away. Amputees know it, report phantom pains in their missing limbs.

"Now imagine that but pervasive, eating away at your brain and heart, boiling your blood as that missing part of you tries to replenish itself. Imagine being able to sense it everywhere but unable to do anything about it—like a starving man tied to a post in front of a buffet. Imagine everything about you unravelling, your brain from trying to process this overwhelming need and your body from turning itself inside out to try to supply this need.

"You'll get close to what happens when your magic is stripped."

Idgy had gone pale during the description, had to sit down at that. "That's…that's awful."

Skulduggery nodded. "It's not pleasant."

"Then—then what about what we heard about, at places like Railside? Where they were feeding their kids magic to keep them from starving?"

Skulduggery nodded at that. "Some people—I'm willing to bet Skellington is one—can expend droves of magic without adverse effects—I'm almost tempted to say that him being stripped of his magic would be a minor inconvenience until it builds back up. Some people can build it back up from that sort of loss."

She stared at him, seeing what he wasn't saying. "Some people."

"Yes," he said, splaying his hands on the file before him. "Most people don't recover."

"Then why prevent goods from going to Railside? Why do this to people?" she demanded, gesturing at the table.

"Why keep it hidden?" Skulduggery muttered. "Of course we know the answer to that question—Skellington would throw a fit they'd hear clear on the moon. But the rest of it….That bloke Montgau…he said that the Administration is worried about the Chaos coming back."

Idgy was giving him that confounded stare again. "I know we talk about Chaos Weather, but I'm pretty sure they're not coming back."

"Or so we hope. But think—what caused the Age of Chaos was hubris, of which we have an excess currently. Playing above station—I could point a few fingers. Warm weather—well I suppose in both cases it's just timing, weather always cycles. But Chaos always flourished in warm weather—I'm sure it's enough to make some power-hungry politician nervous. After all, how can you reason with a monster?"

"I don't know, give me a couple of minutes alone with a politician and I'll tell you."

"Funny. The Chaos may have forged their own society, but there was still that disconnect between them and humanity—their minds simply do not work the way yours and mine do. And then—the doctors—their theory about magic coming from Chaos—"

She looked ill. "Warm weather plus Magicians equals Chaos?"

"That seems to be the impression they're operating upon."

"Can I just say that's stupid?"

"You can," he said, pensive. "But as for the rest of it…I just don't know enough to say for sure. What point was there in studying something functionally extinct?"

"Dinosaurs."

"Fair point, the Ancients studied them and look what happened: brought back. Maybe we shouldn't study Chaos, under that logic."

"Skul."

"All right, fine," he huffed, waving her off. "But this needs more information before we can move forward with this—see if this could be possible, or if…." Or if they were simply using it as an excuse to get what they wanted: control.

Idgy frowned, sensing where this was going. "This means going to the library, doesn't it?"

"Now don't be that way."

"I will be that way and you can't stop me."

"I'm sure," he sighed. "But I'm in need of some time to collect my thoughts anyway—and perhaps secure us a good view of the Administration Building when it catches fire."

"Make sure you get a good seat," she said, returning the kiss.

"I will. And should I give China your regards?"

"You can't give nothing, Skul."

"Fair enough."

*/*\*

Kineil was not impressed with what she had to help with, loudly protested the entire way that you had Yami right there, have him do it.

"Thank you for doing such a good job," Yami said when she dropped back down.

"Yeah yeah don't make me sock you one," she muttered, backing up a little to look up at the device growing before them. "How are we doing?"

"Sexy, but not like we're trying too hard," Hephaestus said. "I mean, we could be trying, but at this point it's just effortless."

"About this stupid tower, you ninny."

In response, Hephaestus waved a blueprint at her. "Listen, I have been staring at the same stupid design for the better part of a day—let me have my gag."

"Play nice, you two," Yami ordered.

"Yeah whatever why are you standing like that?" Kineil demanded.

"Because I'm about a foot short," Yami countered.

She blinked at him, exchanged glances with Hephaestus, looked back at him…finally decided to move on from that. "I'll grant you you're a whole basket short of a picnic, so it's nice you finally admit to some of it…."

Yami waved them off. "What's our estimated projection?"

"Well let me put it this way," Hephaestus said. "I hope those kids get over themselves soon, because they're going to starve to death otherwise. This isn't the sort of thing you throw together in a day, or even two—we've got to make sure it's put together right, it won't work if even one of those stupid beams is off, and don't get me started on some of the notes—you know this thing will smear us across multiple dimensions if we screw this up, right?"

"I have every confidence in you."

"Glad one of us does," Kineil muttered.

"I am actually with her on this," Hephaestus said, pointing. "Because I'm not actually sure I can handle this—Vulcan's not sure he can handle it either."

"Or you."

"Yeah well, we're friends, we take the mickey out of each other. But moving on…if the point of this exercise was to make me learn to like this place…well like is a strong word—if the point of this exercise was to make me tolerate this place, it succeeded. Being mind-numbingly bored by this place is preferable over being totally and utterly destroyed."

"And if we didn't have a handful of kids who were going to die slowly and then be stranded here with us, I'd accept that," Yami said. "But seeing as how we do…knuckle down, Heph, you're going to have to play the hero."

"Be honest, you brought those kids here on purpose so I'd get this done this century."

"You do need a deadline," Kineil said, nodding.

"I did not, those kids were an accident," Yami said.

"Yeah right—sure," Hephaestus said, exchanging nods with Kineil. "Come on, seriously? I bet you took one look at your two nephews, got excited, and dragged them here without thinking it through. OW!"

"Again, I did not," Yami said, glaring at Hephaestus like he was debating flicking him in the head again. "I told you, it was that idiot they replaced Skul with. Apparently detectives carry banishing scrolls now."

"My bigger concern is that he bred," Kineil said.

"Pretty sure it was Helen or Emily—boy I hope it was Emily, Helen's scary genes didn't need to get passed down."

"And your stupid genes didn't either, and yet here we are."

"I object to this."

"Go right on ahead."

"Uh, hi—in the rare position of voice of reason," Hephaestus interjected. "There's still a thousand things that can go wrong with this device, and those kids are going to die long before we get it done. What's the plan?"

"The plan still hasn't changed," Yami insisted. "Build the machine, send the kids back home, make good use of the device."

"Kineil my arms are tired."

Kineil nodded, tugged Yami down so she could slap him upside the head.

"Was that really necessary?" Yami asked.

"It was," she confirmed. "So basically it's keep on keeping on until we got something better."

"That usually works." At their pointed indication of their surroundings: "Usually, I said."

Sigh, exchange of glances; attention back to him.

"You know we'll follow you into just about anything," Kineil told him.

"Case in point," Hephaestus said, gesturing.

"But still. I'm pretty sure this is the one that takes the cake."

"Let it get taken," Yami said. "Trust me, this'll work. Soon as this is done, we're going to be right back where we belong."

"Point of order," Hephaestus said. "We're still gonna be dead."

That expression didn't rightly belong on Yami's face—it was more suited to Maxwell, she thought, even before accounting in how no muscles meant nothing stopped where it was supposed to.

"True," he said. "But there's a chance to fix other things. That's tempting enough, don't you agree?"

They did. It was a problem, maybe, but they did.

Kineil sighed. "I guess I have to go back to babysitting then."

"Yeah," Hephaestus said, squinting. "What do you think of the little Bakura?"

"I'm more concerned with the mini Heph and Vul—who said you two were allowed to reproduce?"

"I'm going with the other relatives defense. Most totally wasn't that girl in Barcetown."

"You DID do that!" Vulcan hollered down. "You little—"

"Yeah, I'm gonna leave now," Kineil decided. "I'm not in the mood to help reassemble Heph today."

"Search your heart—you know you love it!" Hephaestus yelled, fleeing ahead of Vulcan.

"Leaving faster."

"And the day started off so well, too," Yami sighed.