Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine. If you do not enjoy OC x character couplings please click away, this is a self indulgent work that may not suit everyone's tastes. Reviews are always welcome.

This is the first fanfic I ever commit to writing down so bear with me as I learn the ropes of the trade.

This story is marked M for a reason, there will be limes and possibly lemons ahead, you will be warned in advance when a chapter contains that kind of content.

The tale revolves around Tesem, an OC of mine inserted into the Yu-Gi-Oh DM plotline with a healthy peppering of Season 0 themes for added flavour. I mean for this to be an extensive one so gear up for a long and bumpy road before we reach our main couple's "happy ending", there will also be several secondary pairings so hopefully there is something for everyone to enjoy here.

Excuse if the first couple of chapters are heavy in exposition, the story picks up soon enough.

Warning: There are descriptions of open wounds and other bodily ailments in this chapter. Skip ahead if that triggers you.


The nothingness of a dreamless sleep stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Awareness was a fleeting thing in her state and for the longest time she drifted in placid uninterrupted oblivion.

Sometimes the muddled remnants of another time would faze the encroaching darkness and the desire to wake would become greater than ever. Such moments of silent rebellion were often short-lived. The farthest she reached to claw at the edge of reality the more agonizing the backlash became.

Lungs collapsed and starved for oxygen, shriveled veins clotted with stagnant blood, skin chapped and broken from dehydration and neglect. The discomforts would pile one over the other as she struggled to break free of her own mind and regain control over her body. The pain was overwhelming and eventually forced her consciousness back into a state of stasis, the fear of such agony becoming her new prison.

It was too hard to muster enough courage out of thin air. Her blurred memories escaped through her fingers like fine sand and try as she may to capture them, to possess at least something in that all-consuming void, she never succeeded. With only a vast expanse of nothingness encompassing her entire reality she questioned more than once if it was even worth it to attempt to abandon it. If pain was all that followed she would be better off clinging to unconsciousness. Silence could be rather peaceful if only incredibly monotonous...

At some point something changed and the break of continuity startled her mind into attention.

In the darkness where she had first assumed there to be nothing but emptiness something bristled and made itself known with a voice that echoed with inhuman tones. It is finally time.

A creeping feeling of dread seized her at the discovery of this other presence. Had it always been there lurking at the edge of her own fleeting consciousness? Somehow she found that possibility more infuriating than disturbing. How long had she ached for company, anything that could end her loneliness... Had this being heard her pleas and ignored them all that time?

Wake up

She mentally sneered, her temper flaring with a fire she hadn't felt in ages. "You have no right-"

We must wake up! That voice lifted like a crashing wave, filling the space with its deafening roar. We have been slowly dying for millenia, trapped like a corpse in a box. The door has finally unlocked, open it, take back the life stolen from us.

Beneath the rage and persuasion she picked on a tinge of desperation that resonated with her own. She was far from comprehension but the details given hinted at a great injustice dealt to both of them. She cursed herself for forgetting what sounded like a matter of the utmost importance but try as she may she couldn't summon the memories that came before her entrapment.

"I can't… I have tried but it hurts". She felt pitiful admitting this and that feeling alone began to kindle her courage. Her invisible companion only needed to fan the flames.

Pain is a passing sensation. Is freedom not worth it?

"It may be..."

Then wake up.

As those words echoed into silence the way out became clearer than ever, a minuscule dot of light breaking the shadows beyond which she somehow knew reality awaited.

She picked at it, hesitantly at first. The known agony settled in right-away, the ailments of a body abandoned and neglected screaming at her as the mind strained to take control over the matter.

The tiny light stretched and transformed into a narrow slit and the change encouraged her efforts into renewed fervor even as her suffering reached new depths with every bit of progress.

Hundreths of needles lodged themselves into her muscles from bad circulation, her stomach cramped and howled with age-old hunger and in the death centre of her chest a sharp throb started pounding at irregular intervals making her feel dizzy and nauseated.

That is your heart beating. You are nearly there. The encouraging words —which she hadn't realized she needed so badly— came with an approving purr, animalistic but reassuring.

A finger twitched and chapped lips trembled. Finally the darkness parted and her eyes opened to an unknown world.

A faint orange glimmer bouncing off the walls from a hidden source allowed her to better appreciate her surroundings. Four carved sandstone walls came up to a vaulted ceiling high enough to be obscured from view in the prevailing gloom. Four thick columns formed a square in the centre of the room and she found herself in between two of them sitting on what felt like a stone chair. Although it was hard to make out the details she could tell that every inch of the place save for the floor was covered in intricate work, hieroglyphs and vivid depictions of an ancient era. Not that she could properly appreciate any of it when the escalating waves of pain assaulting her senses demanded every bit of her attention.

Her first intake of air came in sharply. Oxygen and debris reached her lungs at the same time producing a violent coughing feat that brought up the taste of blood to her tongue. The effort kicked her heart into a faster pace and the rush of blood to her head triggered a nasty migraine that nearly terminated her newfound state of lucidity.

Instinctively she tried to cradle her head but the motion stopped short as two cold metallic cuffs dug into her wrists, easily parting the tender skin.

She stared at the slow trickle of red for a long minute, like she couldn't comprehend what that vibrant shade meant. Her realization of the true depth of her plight was tortuously slow.

The voice from before made a reappearance with unconcealed urgency. They chained us... Weakened as we are these wounds could be fatal, we must break free. The sheer fury embedded into every syllable startled her into action. Pulling at her bindings she found the chains at her wrists weren't the only ones clinging to her body, her ankles were fastened in place very much the same way and a relentless pressure at her neck along with the inability to move her head more than an inch gave away the fact that her neck was secured too.

Equal measures of fear and rage bubbled in her chest, aiding to keep her wide awake when her body craved to give in.

The sheer brutality of her predicament was enough to plant the idea of betrayal in her mind. Even without her memories the hatred that lodged itself in her heart like a thorn felt familiar and old. Wrongs will be righted... That other voice hissed its agreement, somehow following her line of thought.

She tested the chains again, wincing slightly as the once golden cuffs rubbed against the fresh gashes on her flesh. Despite the accumulated filth on the golden links her bindings were still perfectly solid. Although adrenaline had already kicked it, lessening the assaulting pain and bringing life to weakened limbs she wasn't delirious enough to believe she possessed the strength to break free on her own. She had to come up with a solution and fast.

Think. The room which she now knew was her prison seemed empty but on the opposite side from where she was seated a narrow hallway stretched and suddenly veered to the right, that was where the flicker of a dancing light came from. Torchlight? The light fluctuated every so often, dimming and brightening at irregular intervals. The source had to be moving, someone must be moving it.

Her lips parted to call out but the only noise she managed to produce was a strangled cry. Her throat felt raw like someone had rubbed it with sandpaper from the inside and it was nearly swollen shut. Try as she may to make a sound loud enough for anyone out there to hear she just couldn't.

Her brain raced to find an alternative, she feared that her life would be a lost cause if this opportunity came to pass. She frantically turned her head to look around for an answer and finally noticed the clinking of the chain-links above the loud drum of her heartbeat. That had to be it.

Mustering the last remnants of strength left in her muscles she seized the chains attached to her wrist cuffs and started to rattle them, ignoring as best as she could the fire that shot through her nerves as the motion tore her injuries wider.

The metallic clinking was somehow both deafening and not quite loud enough in her ears. Blood slid down to her elbow and steadily dripped onto the floor, the ominous plip-plip bringing new urgency to her struggle.

She refused to die alone and forgotten in that godforsaken place. She just wouldn't let this be the end of her.

The light flickered and grew in intensity. It had to be working, someone must be on their way to save her… Her vision blurred and her head was sent to throbbing.

No no no, dammit. She couldn't fall asleep again, she didn't care for that void dreamstate, not again, not so soon. She had to see this through— needed to get a taste of freedom at least once before she could rest.

Her body didn't care for her anguish and she drifted off just as the full glare of the torch turned the corner. Her body went slack and her eyes glazed half-open as worried whispers and then urgent shouts started ringing back and forth between nameless strangers.

Images assaulted her mind in incoherent waves, jumbled depictions of the gloomy crypt that nearly became her final resting place and sometimes flashes of faces and places she couldn't recall ever seeing. A long white corridor, men and women wearing strange masks and head-covers, and a kind-eyed old man that always bore a concerned smile for her.

The fog of her subconscious parted at some point and through heavily lidded eyes she gazed up to a white and sterile roof. Far away voices and the racket of what she would later learn to be cars attracted her cool gaze to the window.

The day greeted her with a cloudless blue sky and she found herself smiling despite everything. That visage was like water poured over the scorching sand, soothing the earth with promises of a better season.

A creaking sound coming from within the room had her looking over to the corner where a modest off-white couch was placed. The smiling sage from her dreams had been sitting there and now he slowly stepped closer allowing her to better take in his features.

His ample moustache was so well kept it must have been a point of pride for the man, it was the same soft grey shade as his neatly combed hair. His attire was simple and formal in a style she was unfamiliar with and she found it terribly lacking in jewellery, a thought that seemed to come out of nowhere. Her eyes then focused on his own, gentle and trustworthy in the way they creased with engraved honestly when the man smiled.

"I am glad to see you awake. My name is Arthur Hopkins. What should I call you Miss?"

Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his mouth repeatedly as he spoke and a frown settled deeply over her brows when he finished. One of his thick half-moon brows lifted in silent inquiry.

"I don't understand what you are saying"

This time both of his brows shot high enough to touch his hairline. His disbelief brought a wary edge to the girl's face but he couldn't help his reaction — because she had just spoken in hieratic Egyptian, a tongue lost many millennia ago.