What Is Forever?
By: Neko-chan
A/N: Anyway, I'm glad that everyone who read chapter one liked it so far. Yup---Yami is a cold-hearted yami in this story. He's eeeeeevil. ^_^;;
Yami: NEKO-CHAN!!! I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTER!
*tweaks her ear* You are, you are...but you're just evil in this fic. And Bakura isn't a Tomb Robber, either. D *snickers*
Bakura: NANI?! *suspicious* What have you done to me?
...*coughs* And, to clear things up: Seto Kaiba is Seto Kaiba. Yami is Yami Yuugi. Ryou Bakura is Ryou Bakura. And (I've read this somewhere or other and a couple of people have told me this) Nam is Yami Bakura. It seems that Nam was Yami Bakura's name way-back-when. Soooo...I'm going to be calling Yami Bakura Nam in this story. 'Kay? Kay.
Chapter Two
Seto Kaiba hated going down to the slave markets. He was surrounded by guards, but still felt ill at ease. Why? What could possibly set him so on edge? He didn't know. Did he even want to know? A difficult question to answer, that.
The thing that Kaiba hated most about the slave markets was the smell. Unwashed bodies, human and animal waste, rotting food, cooking food, fear-sweat----all this and more combined to make the slave markets smell as they did. He wished that he was back at the palace, where the air was clean and perfumed slightly with exotic scents. This... This just sickened him.
But there was no way for him to go back. He recognized the subtle hint that Yami had dropped to him. Only he, Seto Kaiba, High Priest to the whole Egyptian Empire, could possibly handle the responsibility of picking out a blood sacrifice. Or so Yami thought. And, of course, if the famine didn't end in the south after the sacrifice, then Yami would--of course--think that there was something wrong with the Priest that did the blood sacrifice ceremony. And that would be him.
If Kaiba wasn't very careful from this point on, he could soon find himself without a head. And the Empire would then find itself without a High Priest. But, more than that, he didn't want to die.
"There," he growled at his guards. Some of them were Yami's guards, some were his own. And some were spies that Yami had sent to watch him closely. But, how to tell a spy from a genuine? "There," he growled again. "The slave market that I'm looking for is to our right. They usually have the more exotic slaves, which is what we need for tonight. A fitting sacrifice for a fitting ritual."
This section of the slave market was cleaner than all the rest. It was the first sign that the wares sold and traded here would be superior to all the other slave auctions. Kaiba wasn't sure how he knew it to be so, but they would find the slaves that they were looking for here. And that was all that mattered to him; that, and getting out of this Ra-forsaken hellhole as fast as he was able to.
There were two slave traders here--a male and, surprisingly, a female. The male was old, gray-haired and gray-beared. Through the silver of his hair, Kaiba could see bits and hints of red. 'It must have been his original hair color before he grew old,' the High Priest thought to himself. The girl--who must have been the man's daughter, had thick, wavy red-orange hair that came to the backs of her knees. Though he was far away, Kaiba could tell that both--the father and daughter--had gray eyes.
Smiling in a friendly matter, the girl-woman wandered over to Kaiba and his entourage, bowing slightly when she noticed Kaiba's rank. Somehow, the High Priest could sense that the bow had meant to be taken mockingly, not literally. The brunette boy smiled slightly; she was probably a cold-hearted witch, but there was an aura around her that you couldn't help but like.
"Dia adhuit," she said, finally stopping when she was toe-to-toe with Kaiba. The much-taller boy blinked and looked at the girl closer. She had just spoken Gaelic, which was a Celtic language. Already, Gaelic was growing dead; only the Irish, Scottish, and Pict people spoke the language. And that meant that she was one of those nationalities, if not all three. And by her looks, Kaiba was voting for all three.
"Dia is muire adhuit," Kaiba said in return, inclining his head slightly. He had just returned her hello and that was about the extent of his knowledge of Gaelic.
The girl blinked in surprise and finally smiled. And finally, she spoke in his native tongue. "Greetings, High Priest. I am Morgan, how may my father and I help your lordship?"
'Ah... A female Celtic _learned_ slave trader. An interesting combination.' Kaiba tilted his head to one side, looking at the girl curiously and with dark sapphire eyes. "I'm looking for several slaves for the Pharaoh's banquet tonight. You and your father have the prestigious slave trade in the slave market and so we came here. Do you have anyone adequate, my lady?"
Before she could answer, her father smiled a sneaky little smile and spoke up: "Yes, my lord, we do! They are each five gold pieces and they are the best slaves a person could ever possibly find." With that, he started off in a direction, gesturing over his shoulder that Kaiba should follow him.
Kaiba was about to when the girl stepped in front of him and glowered dangerously at her father. "AVOCH! Damnú air, Papa!" She quickly ran after her father and the two quickly became involved in an argument conducted all in Gaelic. Kaiba looked on, interested in spite of himself, but he couldn't understand a word of what they were saying.
* * *
"OH, NO! Damn it, Papa!" Morgan yelled, running after her father. Once finally caught up with him, she glowered at him murderously. "Father, don't you understand that the HIGH PRIEST is buying slaves from us?! He has the Pharaoh's ear and favor. The slaves that they'll be purchasing from us are going straight to the palace. We _can't_ direct them to the lesser slaves. If they ever found out what you were about to do, they'd kill you AND me, Papa!"
The old man sighed. "Daughter, you and I both know what a corrupt man our Pharaoh is. This is the only way we could possibly earn money. After all, the taxes that he charges can barely feed us, let alone the slaves that we keep to sell."
"And which would you rather have, Papa? Your money or your life?" The old man remained silent for a long time. Finally, Morgan snorted in disappointment. "You sicken me, Merlin. Go back to your tent. _I_ will sell the slaves to our 'honored' customers." For a moment, her eyes flashed to silver. Merlin glared back at her and his own eyes darkened to black. But, in the end, they faded back to gray and he made his way back to his own private tent.
Smiling congenially, Morgan once again turned back to her customers.
* * *
"Gentlemen, if you would, please come with me," Morgan said, bowing mockingly to Kaiba and his guards once again. With looks exchanged between them, the group followed the young woman while the old man slowly made his way back to his tent, his stooped figure radiating discouragement.
"These are our best slaves," Morgan began softly, lifting the flap to the smallest tent in the courtyard and ducking into the shadowed recesses within. Kaiba paused for a moment, then followed, his guards coming along at his heels. "Each one is worth his weight in gold. You will never find any better ones in the whole world. Each one is handpicked personally by myself and we keep them healthy and well-fed. What do you think, High Priest?"
Seto Kaiba waited a moment before responding, letting his eyes adjust to the dark interior. And his gaze was caught by several pairs of eyes.
Sullen, rebellious honey-brown.
Angry, mutinous mahogany.
Terrified, wide oak.
And...
Innocent, beguiling violet.
A/N: BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! Cliffie! *cackles, then ducks the various things the readers/reviewers toss at her* Anyway, once again, read and review and I'll update! [And I'm still accepting votes on whether this should be yaoi or not! Starting next chapter, it has to be final! So send in your votes! Aaaaaaaand...each voter gets a Pixy Stix! *cheers and dances around*] To warn you also: This is NOT going to be a happy story. Sure, there will be happy/light moments. But, overall, this is going to be seriously dark. x.x;; You have been warned...
Translations:
Dia adhuit: Hello
Dia is muire adhuit: Hello (said in return)
Avoch: No! or Oh, no!
Damnú air: Damn it!