Author's notes:
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh.
Warning: Mild swearing, psychological insanity, you know the drill…
Answers to review commentary (cause Zoo took so LONG in updating!):
Alecto Perdita: *grins* I better see that contest fic up soon! ^_~
Petite-Hikari: 'Literary-talents'? Ohhhh.. you mean my massive ramblings ^^;;;
Fuzzy Coconut: Actually, nighthunters are vampires – I just gave them a fancy name XD
Shenya: Are my fics long? Well, does that make up for my laziness in updating?
Burning-Yami-Rain: Tenku! I'll try and update ASAP, thought that depends how I define it ne?
r*a*d*i*a*n*y: 'Oneesan'? Whoo! I've got an imoto-san! ^-^
AngelEyes: *sniffles* thanks for the encouragement –meesa so touched~
Mistykasumi: Gomen about the formatting. I've fixed it now just for you ;)
Neko-chan: *is bonked by the frying pan o' death* x.X Hey! I need those brain cells for my chem test! *thinks* Actually, never mind ^^;; keep on thwacking
Angel/DemonGardian: I'll update 'Nocturne'… erm… *coughs* maybe before summer break?
Sailor Comet: Oh! Can I add some Ryou insta-angst? *giggles insanely and attempts to dodge Sam-chan's bondage whip o' death*
Lily-chan: By bad guy, d'you mean my Pega-kun ^^()? Bakura doesn't appear until… later
Tenshimagic: Gah! Stop calling me 'sama'!! *thud* As for Yuugi… well, you'll find out, won't you?
Myst-Lady: Too bad can't write for my contest ;_;. What have you been up to these days?
KittyKatu: Tenku for your compliment ^^=
Silver Dragon: Walls? Oh yes, I love walls! In fact, that's where I lost half my brain cells (half because I already lost the other half)
Tuulikki: *big pause* I don't remember writing "Darkworld". You sure it was me?
Bishiehuggler: Welcome back!! Hope you stay for the ride *grins*
And of course a big domo arigatou to PH-san for beta-ing this ^-^
Anything with squiggly brackets around it (like ~*~ this ~*~) means a brief flashback
NOTE: The main character of this chapter is NOT a character I made up. He is exactly as I would see him if he was placed without malice in an AU. And if you can't grasp the clues I gave you, who _else_ would I pair (and contrast) with Ryou?
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There is a separate world that lies like a shadow inside our own. Those that are a part of it come out only at night-time. They dominate, betray, attack, and love within their self-maintained society.
The only restriction is that their world cannot be discovered by humans
because the humans would do anything to destroy them
for they are against the will
of God
*********************************************************
Chapter 2 - The Watcher and the Dreamer
"Good night mommy."
She shut her eyes as the door to her room closed with a soft click. Quietly she pulled the covers up to her chin.
He watched all of this. That was the sole reason of his existence – just to tread and watch from places others did not remember. His keen amber eyes stared, unblinking. A blast of wind pushed against his unmoving form, rippling his ghostly white fur. His sharp ears flickered and betrayed his impatience.
The girl inside her room, swathed in a warm nest of blankets like a sacrificial victim, was ready.
He grinned and trotted lightly on padded feet that left behind no paw prints. The creature of the Darkworld slid effortlessly through the solid wall separating him from the child. He looked at her, innocent and youthful, sleeping soundlessly amongst stuffed animals and atrociously colourful paintings.
The lupine creature leaned backwards on his haunches before springing into the air, forepaws sprawled as if to slam into the sleeping girl. He disappeared before he could touch her.
The girl slept as soundlessly as before.
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It was hard for those who had never seen one to believe what he was. Even creatures of the Darkworld mistook his kind for shapeshifters – beings with the ability to change forms at will.
He was wolf-like in form, with lustrous white fur and haunting amber eyes. He could move ghost-like through barriers and travel through entire dimensions in his spirit-form without being noticed.
He could not be noticed. He was a Dreamwolf, after all.
Dreamwolves also did something else besides travelling. They were watchers.
So now he stood within the human's girl's vast dreaming mind. Large oversized blocks were piled into a ludicrous castle. Magenta and violet flowers protruded randomly from the lilac-cushioned ground.
In her own dream, she was giggling. He sat on his haunches and watched as she constructed a magnificent playground from the swirling colours around her. There she built a large toy dragon, one that followed her around, a goofy smile plastered to its plush face.
This was what fuelled his dark heart and kept it beating. He consumed nothing else but this vigour within dreams, drinking it in as it emanated in bursts from the child's imagination. He lapped up the creative energy greedily. It would replenish itself the next day, or rather, the next night, when he wandered into another human's dreams to feed.
The dreamwolf lay sprawled and sated against the ground in satisfaction. He let a sigh of content escape his pure white muzzle. The girl was singing now, her childish voice rich in gaiety. Shifting his head to one side, the dreamwolf listened, letting his ears collect the pure, unfaltering notes.
She suddenly stopped singing.
His heart plummeted. Something had happened.
A million warnings flashed in his mind. He immediately leapt up. Through a haze of confusion, he tried to gather his wits and collect enough mind-Energy to travel out of the dream back to reality.
A shrill scream pierced the tension. It was the cry of the indignant and wounded, of a soul in agony. It escalated in intensity before it was suddenly cut off.
The dream world of colourful block-castles began to wither and crumble, the soft fabric breaking into jagged snarls of blood red and ebony. Crimson blood oozed out from the ground and stained the colourful world its single shade. The entire dream gave a terrible shudder.
The girl was dying. He sensed it immediately, from the way her dream twisted and roared into a chaotic mess to the deep red now plaguing the entire expanse like an ocean of blood. A feeling of despair suddenly overtook his heart. If she died, he would be trapped in this dream with no way out. There would be no conscious gate to allow him to travel between the worlds of the living and of the dreaming.
He had to get out! His paws dipped frantically into the widening expanse of crimson blood, creating scarlet ripples with every bound as he vainly searched for a gateway out.
There! He could sense the barest flicker of consciousness, faint like the stutter of candle light, vulnerable to the softest sigh. He forced his legs to propel him at full speed towards the portal; the last chance he had to escape this dying girl's dream.
It was too late.
Everything around him suddenly went dark. Even the crimson blood lapping around him had disappeared. Alone he stood, lost in oblivion.
He was trapped.
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Dreamwolves are by nature pack creatures.
Only now, for the first time in his life, did he realize how truly alone he was. He was isolated in this permanent darkness, shut away from all consciousness save his own. Just like how nighthunters needed blood for sustenance, dreamwolves required the dream-energy of humans. Sooner or later, he would starve and die.
The brutal honesty was driving him insane, just as the pervading sense of doom and permanent enclosure clawed at his mind. A small whimper escaped his throat, and he lifted his muzzle, releasing a mournful howl. The heart-wrenching notes hovered in the air before the silence consumed them. He let his chill voice rise again without hope or conviction. It was not a plea for help but a self-lament, a funeral hymn he sang for himself as the energy dissipated from his trembling body.
At last he lay down, the darkness consuming him. His haunting amber eyes flickered once with denial and fear. Then, helplessness sunk in again and he forced his taut muscles calm, forced his great ivory head to lie down in the darkness, ready to succumb to death.
In his haze of half-death, he thought he heard a voice speaking to him. It was a rich tenor, filled with an unquenchable sorrow like his own.
"Forgive me," the voice whispered quietly.
The dreamwolf dared to lift his head and look around his dark confines. A faint flicker of determination rekindled in his eyes for the briefest of seconds as he looked around, believing for a moment that someone had come to rescue him. There was no one. The gates of consciousness had disappeared long ago with the girl's death.
"I'm sorry. I should have known that-." A choked sob escaped, causing the voice to break into trembling, soft breaths. Moments later, they calmed. "Remember yesterday? We went towards the park and you told me how pretty the cherry blossoms were at this season. Some of the petals were falling off the branches, and I thought you looked so pretty when they collected in your hair."
The dreamwolf could actually see every image. The words lifted a heavy weight off him, and the stillness seemed to stir. He closed his amber eyes and listened to the voice's soothing words. They tasted of dream-essence and filled him with energy.
"I wondered where you would be when you grew up. I would stand and watch you run towards the playground, watching you dash towards the swings and say 'push me brother!'"
Silence.
Like a leviathan, the darkness suddenly jerked. An explosion of light hit the darkwolf, overbearing to his senses. The mind – the dead mind he lay, trapped – had somehow been reawakened!
It was fading quickly, the temporary consciousness of this not-quite dead girl's mind. It was more than enough.
The darkwolf forced his reeling senses together and with a desperate lunge, mentally willed his spirit out of the bleak confines. His soul tingled as he was carried away from the girl's semi-conscious cage back into reality. He felt his body re-solidify, once again assuming the familiar lupine form. His paws hit the carpeted ground as he felt silver fur colliding with the stagnant warm air.
Just before he left, he could feel girl's lips settle into a small smile before her consciousness once again faded away.
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Ryou stared at the limp body of his sister as if expecting her somehow to miraculously come alive. The small six-year old girl looked so pale, cheeks ashen-white, lips drawn in a tight grimace. As the white-haired boy murmured and spoke to his now-dead sister, stroking her hand, he thought he saw a flicker of a smile on the girl's face; one that had not been there before.
Ryou shook his head. He was hallucinating. There was no bringing back that which had already departed. He looked at his lifeless, pale sister and hastily wiped the tears pooling around his red-rimmed eyes.
The doctors were still puzzled by his sister's death. They said she had gone into cardiac arrest due to a loss of blood. They could provide no further explanation. There were no wounds on his sister's fair skin.
Perhaps he was deceiving himself with this dead body. Ryou not longer had a sister. She had disappeared and all that was left was her body. He had already buried the ashes of her memory beside the vague images he retained of his mother.
"Such tragedy. A pity she had to die."
Ryou jerked around in surprise. Someone else was in the room!
A pair of burning amber eyes burned in the shadows. They slowly moved towards the moonlit windowsill.
The white-haired boy froze in terror. There was a wolf, a wolf of pure-white fur inside his room. For a moment his heart quavered and he wondered if this was what had attacked his sister. Ryou's hands unconsciously curled into fists.
"No." The wolf spoke, tone bitter and vicious. "I am not the one who killed your sister... though I am quite familiar with the kind that did this."
Ryou backed away from the wolf – the demon – until he was flat against the wall. His father had preached of the cunning of spirits, ones who sought to drive humans like him to misery and hatred. The white-haired boy shook his head. "No. I don't care who killed her."
Undaunted, the wolf-spirit took a few steps, drawing closer to Ryou. "Of course you don't care, human. You cannot understand things that you have never seen." The lupine creature gave an eerie, jagged grin, showing off his ivory canines. "But what if I told you of the potential danger these beings, these creatures that destroyed your sister, could cause to other humans? Do you really want your other friends and family to be hurt or killed?"
Ryou had no answer. The strange aura of this wolf-demon, the abnormality of its speech had thrown his sense of reason and logic to the wind. "W-what do you want?"
The wolf-demon snorted. "Just some revenge." His voice betrayed the depth of his anger. "Don't you want revenge for your sister?"
"It doesn't matter." A small sigh escaped the white-haired boy's lips. "She's gone."
The wolf-demon growled. "She could be here right now, if it weren't for that creature! Your sister would have been so happy with you. You could have gone to the park together and could have achieved so many things with each other. Look at you now – a pitiful boy, all alone, with no one to care for."
Ryou tried to deny the words, but they sunk their teeth into his vulnerable heart. This wolf-demon, or whatever it was, somehow knew his innermost thoughts. His shoulders sagged and he looked tiredly at the wolf-demon. "Why are you telling me this?"
The demon-wolf faltered, but quickly covered the hesitation. "I need you to help me. You see, the creature that killed your sister is well known in human lore. You may know them as… vampires of a sort. However, they are incredibly fast and suspicious of non-humans. Unless I had close contact to a vampire, I would not be able to destroy one."
It suddenly clicked. "So you want to use me as bait." Ryou digested the information. How could such things as vampires exist? Yet, the being confronting him with this strange new reality was inherent proof of such things. And he could not find the strength to deny what he felt to be true.
"Exactly." The wolf-demon gave a low chuckle that sounded almost human-like. "I'm special too. Normally, my kind only watches souls, but when angered, we can also manipulate them – feed off them, control them, or destroy them within a limited range." He shrugged. "So all I ask now is a bit of cooperation from you. I just want to borrow your body."
Ryou backed away. This was exactly like the preaching of the demon! Lucifer, asking mortals if they would sell their soul for riches, happiness, or revenge. He tried to refuse the demon-wolf's words, but found his lips frozen and throat constricted. He couldn't even move!
The demon-wolf grinned insanely, touching his muzzle to the cool denim fabric of the boy's jeans. "Don't worry. You'll have your revenge. Why don't you take a small rest now?"
The last thing Ryou heard was laughing. The jagged sound came not from his ears but from within his mind.
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Only now did he realize the pain and utter agony of those few moments of isolation. Only now, safe and angry in the world of the living, did he realize that the darkness, thickened by despair would have driven him to madness before starvation would have claimed him.
Now, back in his physical form, there was no denying how the girl had died. Hidden to the eyes of humans were twin identical indentures in the human girl's fragile neck. The kiss, the mark of a nighthunter; what the humans called a vampire.
A low growl escaped from the dreamwolf's throat. He would make _them_ pay. They would pay for trapping him, for ignoring his utter helplessness. But most of all, the nighthunters would pay for their damn arrogance; for thinking that their priorities rose above all other Darkworld creatures. He had heard the summoning of their new Pharaoh. The egomaniac vampires now had a champion. The clinging dependence they exhibited was laughable.
And then there was that human boy, the one who called himself Ryou.
The human was so easy to convince. He had watched the boy's mental barriers wane at each of his stinging comments. Yet, the boy had not surrendered his will completely. Some stubborn aspect of the human still forced the dreamwolf to chisel at the boy's iron determination.
The white-furred dreamwolf was not one known for great patience. In defiance of the dreamwolf Rules1, he had seized the boy's consciousness with his mind-Energy and twisted, forcing the human's soul to collapse but leaving the conscious mind untouched. The boy stared with glassy eyes, like a puppet waiting for the master puppeteer.
The dreamwolf grinned. He collected all his mind-Energy and willed his figure to dissipate, to shift between realms into his spirit-form. He was now the ruler in the boy's throne of consciousness. Yes, this body was his as long as he remained in spirit-form. The dreamwolf spread his mind-Energy as far as possible, seizing control of the human boy's senses. The dreamwolf forced his will upon the body, making it move to his commands. He experimentally wriggled the boy's fingers- his own, now-, and took a few hesitant steps on two legs. Several times he stumbled, cursing. How humans could walk on two legs remained a damnable mystery to him, and he had no patience to attempt mastery. Yet there was no other choice – he had forced Ryou unconscious, and now he alone was in charge of the boy's body.
A few more hesitant stumbles and falters before he felt secure. Confident and purposeful, the dreamwolf was on the hunt again. He would have the revenge he wanted. And he would condemn those ever-arrogant nighthunters into the hell he had barely escaped from.
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The night air was silent, illuminated only by the pale wan of a sliver moon. He watched, stumbling at times within his vulnerable human body. Without the enhanced senses of his lupine form, he felt completely blind in the dark.
Yet he did not search with his limited eyes or senses alone. He heightened his mind-Energy and searched within the vast network of living conscious minds: the playground of the dreamwolves. With his keen spirit-senses, he could pinpoint all the Darkworld creatures and measure their power and states of consciousness.
He had one target only. It didn't matter who, as long as it was one of _them_.
A devious idea struck the dreamwolf. He was a master of the spiritual, one linked to all minds be they Darkworld or human. If he wanted revenge so badly on the nighthunters, then why not take out the strongest one? Why not take out the leader and send those bastards sulking back into their shadows with their tails between their legs?
The thought thrilled him. He could feel the adrenaline pumping into his veins, stimulating his borrowed senses and exciting his already fevered mind. The dreamwolf, the soul-watcher, licked his parched, warm lips in anticipation.
In order to kill the snake, one must go for the head.
******************************************
"Something wrong, master?"
He turned towards the sound as a small sigh escaped his throat. "It's nothing, Mahaado 2. I just have a bad feeling, that's all."
The other nighthunter nodded and moving to stand protectively behind the Pharaoh. "You sure you will be okay then?"
The regal ruby eyes flickered in annoyance. "Yes." A wry grin played on the vampire's lips, fangs gleaming slightly in the moonlight. "Stop acting the guardian, Mahaado. You know I am more than competent enough to take care of myself."
"But master-"
The Pharaoh rolled his eyes. "Don't call me master! You know it annoys the hell out of me." He knew the other nighthunter would not take it seriously. The two were almost inseparable companions. He preferred Mahaado's protectiveness to the worship lavished on him by the younger nighthunters. "It's as I said. It's just a bad storm blowing. It will eventually clear off."
The other nighthunter gave a polite bow, trimmed tresses wrapping around his cheekbones. "As you wish, master." With the subtlety of the nighthunters, he disappeared as if never there in the first place.
Yami stared into the darkness from his rooftop alcove. A dark storm was rising; a short, turbulent one that was a stepping stone to a greater disaster. And somehow, beneath it all, the Sorcerer was in charge.
The ruby-eyed vampire suddenly narrowed his eyes as he caught a glimpse of silvery-white hair. He gave an inward hiss as his muscles tensed and became unnaturally still. Was he not a hunter after all? He would wait patiently for his prey, for the Sorcerer to come to him.
It suddenly occurred to Yami that perhaps he had mistaken the figure. True, there was an aura of malice emanating clearly from his enemy, but there was also an ethereal grace to the other's presence. It was a ghost masquerading in silvery hair and human flesh.
But who else beside the Sorcerer had such prominent silver hair? Again the nighthunter frowned at the mystery. He would have to take a closer look.
With a light leap over the balcony, the ruby-eyed vampire fell, slowly and gracefully, thirteen stories downwards until he hit the ground cat-like. Yami quickly stood up from his crouching position and scanned for the approaching figure's form. His eyes widened.
There was nothing! Where the sense of a human –or at least magickal – presence should have been was nothingness. Yami frowned. It was impossible; the vampire had perfected his tracing abilities for centuries. It was as if the sense of the person's existence had been erased. Or, if it was a Darkworld fiend, the face of the damned.
He furrowed his eyebrows and delved deeper with his Magick, not wanting to release his hold on this strange intruder. He knew from the first glimpse that this figure was definitely not a nighthunter. All nighthunters' essences were directly linked to his: the Pharaoh, their leader.
Or perhaps the intruder had sensed Yami's presence and escaped in a mad dash of fright. Accepting this theory, the ruby-eyed vampire reluctantly turned his back to the non-presence.
The strike caught him completely off guard. He gasped and fell to his knees, thrashing violently in defence. Yet, there was no weight on him, no physical force. This attack, wherever and whoever it came from, was purely spiritual.
Now it was tearing with excruciating agony at his mind. Mental talons gouged at him, threatening to shred his soul. Yami reeled uncontrollably while trying to regain his faltering senses. If he wanted to survive this ordeal, he had to stop the assault. He had to find the source of this attack.
The essence tearing apart his soul was familiar.
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Like his species' namesake, he was a hunter by nature. Most creatures of the Darkworld were, not just dreamwolves.
He was different. He had a purpose.
The dreamwolf propelled his human body through a labyrinth of streets and alleyways, navigating by spiritual senses only. He could taste the aura of the vampire Pharaoh on the tip of his tongue. How delicious the revenge would taste, when he forced his mind-Energy into the nighthunter and ripped out the vampire's unsuspecting soul. How absolutely succulent.
At last his borrowed human eyes caught a glimpse of the legendary nighthunter. A quick brush with his mind-Energy confirmed it. There, standing like a sulking raven on the rooftop, was his prey.
Ironic, considering that nighthunters too were predators. The irony whet his appetite.
The dreamwolf forced his stubborn human legs to move deliberately under the vampire's field of view. He used a bit of his mind-Energy to lull the nighthunter's suspecting mind, inviting the Pharaoh to attack him.
The vampire was suspicious. The dreamwolf could feel the mistrust radiating from him. The spirit – for in this form he was merely an essence - cloaked his aura in a mental shield, taking delight in the vampire's pathetic attempts to pierce it. The dreamwolf sensed the other's panic and then curiosity.
'Yes.' Had he been in lupine form, his teeth would have curved into a wicked smile to reveal his jagged incisors. 'Come to me, Pharaoh of the nighthunters. I will give you the eternity you seek.' He slid his body back into the shadows. 'I have all night to wait for my revenge'.
At last the Pharaoh came. With a muffled flutter of fabric and flash of limbs, the nighthunter jumped. The wind whispered as he fell and there was a dull thud of feet gently hitting the ground.
And still the dreamwolf waited. He could feel the other probe him with Magick, unsuccessfully. 'Yes, Pharaoh, your Magick can no nothing against my mind-Energy.' The dreamwolf licked his all too-human lips, savouring the nighthunter's hesitation. The pathetic creature. 'Feel the doubt and apprehension. Feel the pain that I had to suffer.'
In the space of a breath, he struck. The dreamwolf watched in satisfaction as his attack formed a spiritual dagger, stabbing the Pharaoh in a burst of mental power. He watched as the so-called _leader_ of the nighthunters fall helpless to the ground, writhing in unstoppable mental agony. The attack was tearing apart the vampire's ancient soul.
The dreamwolf loved every bit of it. Revenge was a sweet and delicate pleasure, made all the more delectable by forcing the Pharaoh's arrogance into submission. This was his challenge to the vampires that dared to intrude upon the dreamwolf's life.
The Pharaoh gasped, doubled-over on the ground. He was helpless under the dreamwolf's onslaught. It would be child's play to wring the life from the creature with even these weak mortal hands.
It would be such irony – a vampire destroyed by a human. The dreamwolf felt his lips curve in a derisive sneer. Perhaps the other grieving vampires would erroneously attribute the attack to another Darkworld species. It might even escalate to a war.
Wouldn't that be grand?
The Pharaoh, kneeling like a hag on the ground suddenly snarled, baring his fanged teeth so that two ivory curves could be seen in the light of the pale moon. A glowing insignia manifested on the nighthunter's forehead with a brilliant scarlet sheen. The vampire roared again, the mark blazing with incredible light and suddenly, the dreamwolf felt his attack retreat. The ruby-eyed nighthunter was slowly rising from his knees, breathing heavily. The burning insignia had disappeared from the Pharaoh's forehead along with the dreamwolf's mental onslaught.
The dreamwolf was stunned. No creature had ever broken the spell of the dreamwolf, the mental trap feared by every creature of the Darkworld. Yet this _nighthunter_ had endured and even stopped the attack. Even dreamwolves themselves would not be able to escape from such an onslaught, if such a situation ever occurred.
It enraged the dreamwolf. Not only had been deprived of his revenge, but he had also been out-powered by an amateur, one completely foreign to mind-Energy. The strange Magick protecting the Pharaoh was not just sorceror's Magick. The dreamwolf would have to study it with greater care in the future.
A physical jolt jarred the dreamwolf from his thoughts. He narrowed his too human eyes and tried to pierce the darkness to catch a glimpse of his attacker.
"I would advise you to stop struggling, _dreamwolf_."
Had he been in his wolven form, he might have flattened his ears along his skull in humiliation. The _Pharaoh_ had his mortal body locked tight in an unmoving grasp.
"I wouldn't leave if I were you," the vampire hissed, making the dreamwolf realize exactly how powerful his opponent was. "You know you'll be vulnerable the moment you try to flee this body." The Pharaoh was not a mere idol for god-worship. The nighthunter's power, both subtle and startling, was something the dreamwolf recognized as beyond his own. The spirit had been overpowered.
That by far did not mean that he was not angry with the Pharaoh.
"Damn you, nighthunter!" the dreamwolf hissed, watching flecks of spittle spray from his puppet. He felt the face contort with anger. "Damn you to hell!" Never once did he stop struggling, weak as his mortal body was.
The dreamwolf felt a touch of warmth against his neck. His human body involuntarily shuddered, the fear touching his spirit and leaving him momentarily shocked.
"I could drain your body of all blood," the nighthunter mused, powerful muscles holding the dreamwolf still. The warmth of the vampire's breath caressed its victim's neck. "Maybe I should make you beg for mercy, and it would be a light punishment, considering the stunt you almost pulled off with your hellish mind tricks.
The dreamwolf's body stiffened. He glared as menacingly as possible. "You wouldn't dare. The Book of Dreamwolf Rules forbids it."
"Ah." The Pharaoh's voice came in a low, dangerous purr. "I wouldn't be one to preach those rules, considering that you've broken them yourself." His intrigue seemed to be replacing his anger. "But tell me dreamwolf, are you the only one? Or are all the others planning a massive assault against us?"
The dreamwolf snarled. "Why the hell would I tell you that?"
The other again adopted a low, grating whisper, one that trickled down the dreamwolf's human. "Because I'll kill them. You know I will, if they are threatening my kindred."
The spirit began to laugh at the sheer irony of the statement. The vampire was threatening _him_ for attempted murder of his kind! "You mock me, nighthunter." His borrowed human lips pressed into a horrible grimace. "You hunt the humans, full of ignorance and blunder, not even stopping to consider whether or not my kind is inside. You know full well how we dreamwolves travel, and yet you fail to enforce the discipline amongst yourselves. Because of the ignorance of you nighthunters, I nearly died, shut off from everything else. Who knows how many others of my kind died the same way, completely isolated and ignored as they starved begging for dream-energy in a dead and isolated body?" He laughed bitterly. "Does it please you, Pharaoh? To know that you're destroying us one by one like the humans you squeeze life out of? And then you come to mock me by saying that _we_ are threatening your kind."
The ruby-eyed nighthunter said nothing for a long time. He just stood, as if all of eternity could pass him by and the moonlight would still be shining.
The pair of powerful arms suddenly withdrew. The dreamwolf had deliberately been freed.
"Leave." The vampire said nothing else.
The dreamwolf was being granted freedom! He could have almost cried at the nighthunter's change of heart3. And yet, a part of him felt cheated. He had been denied his revenge and suffered obligation to the nighthunter. Insult to chafe a stinging defeat. He could taste his own bitterness.
"Leave." The nighthunter's second command was not nearly so indifferent. His white knuckles trembled uncontrollably under the moonlight. "You don't want to test my patience."
Still glaring silently with rage and indignation, the dreamwolf finally retreated, nursing his stinging human arms and even more battered soul. He would one day wipe that superior look off the Pharaoh's face.
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His pale skin shone a startling ivory in the moonlight. The soft silver wove into his white hair, which cascaded down his shoulders to stop at his shoulder blades. His keen brown eyes glimmered with too many facets of light, as if invisible tears brimmed near the darkened irises, threatening to spill.
But this body was not his. He was only a spirit, able to adopt a lupine form that was ghostly at best. How different his kind was from the solid, clumsy, cumbersome humans; and yet, his kind's attributes matched the demonic residents of the Darkworld no better.
What were dreamwolves? Spirit-creatures who lived in the shadows but sought the light of humans? Their mind-Energy was so unlike the telltale Darkworld Magick; spiritual instead of elemental.
Was that the reason the vampire had spared him? Was it because the Pharaoh had felt _pity_ for his kind, the lost ones doomed to straddle the world of humans and demons?
The night was ending quickly. Soon, he would sleep a fitful sleep and wake up disoriented when the moon rose once again. It was yet another unspoken rule of the Darkworld: not to disturb the waking, living realm of the humans. No creature of the Darkworld dared challenge the sun's human-loving face.
A part of him sighed, watching in detached fascination as his human chest rose and fell, breathing out a wisp of mist. He was aware of all the uncomfortable feelings this ill-made body suffered from: shortness of breath, tremour of muscles, the stiff ache of the old night air on the body's fair skin.
Like a statue he walked, letting his borrowed human instincts take him to the home the body, but not the spirit controlling it, belonged to.
At last he came to the familiar house, the same white-washed and red-tiled roof house where he had first encountered the girl-child. His body gave an involuntary shudder as it slipped through the half-opened window and crossed the girl's bedroom. A vacant, foreboding air seemed to exude from the closed white door, though logic told the dreamwolf that there was no longer anyone inside. No child to dream beautiful worlds of dragons and castles among the sanctuary of her pastel pictures.
He let his human body collapse inside its own room. The dreamwolf could feel the true consciousness of the body, the soul named Ryou, begin to panic and struggle against him. The spirit bristled in annoyance but gave in eventually, relinquishing his control of the body to escape back to reality. It felt so natural for the dreamwolf to do this, to travel between dimensions. Even as his lupine body solidified on the carpeted ground, it was no more than a projection, flickering and lacking the solid taste of human flesh or the darkened tone of demon skin.
With an inward sigh, the dreamwolf steadied himself with his paws and turned towards the wall, ready to flee ghost-like through the dimensions once more.
"Wait!"
Caught off guard by the command, the dreamwolf turned around, coming face to face with the human boy whom he had just possessed moments ago. There was an innocence, a curiousity framing the boy's eyes that gleamed with incandescent fire. The spirit-wolf growled, wondering why he even bothered to acknowledge the human, a trivial creature that he would never meet again. "What?"
The boy's lips were pressed in awed determination, his doleful brown eyes large. "_What_ are you?"
He dreamwolf snorted. "You called me a demon. Isn't that good enough?"
"No." The boy swallowed. Finally defeating his hesitation, he blurted out his thoughts in one courageous breath. "Wh-when I was watching you, when you were in my mind, I could sense something about you. There was so much pain in your mind. For a moment, I thought your thoughts were mine, and your actions what I unconsciously willed. Because in truth, though we may be completely different, there is not that much difference in our souls."
"Sentimental nonsense." The dreamwolf dismissed the human boy's words. What would this boy, barely an adolescent know anyway? Perhaps that he could count beyond his fingers? The spirit-wolf did not trust clumsy, blundering humans anymore than he trusted those arrogant, ignorant nighthunters. He was alone in this world and he would remain alone, forgotten even by his own kind.
It still hurt him to know that none of his kind had responded to his call for help in taking revenge on the nighthunters after the incident. He might as well have been screaming his ordeal to the wind; and even that might have elicited more sympathy.
"Please just tell me who are you are. Or at least a name." The boy's pleas were frantic, too naïve, too pleading.
The dreamwolf snarled. "I-"
A sudden clapping interrupted the dreamwolf's train of thought. Startled, the spirit-wolf looked around. It miffed him that he had even noticed this one's presence.
"Beautiful as always, dreamwolf." The figure was quite tall and gaunt. His smooth silver hair fell to his shoulders like a plate of steel, glistening dully in the half-light. His fair lips were curved into a smug smile. "Full of your ideologies and fantasies."
The dreamwolf immediately sensed the intruder's identity from his aura. His white canines flashed. "Why are you here, Sorcerer?"
The Sorceror shrugged. "I could ask you the same thing, though it's quite fortunate that you _are_ here. You've been rather difficult to track with all that shifting between realms, more so than the others of your kind."
Something was not right about the Sorcerer's last words. "Why are you tracking us, sorcerer? There is nothing we can do for the likes of you." The spirit-wolf spat the words out.
"I think the better question is what your kind can _not_ do for us." The Sorceror gave a laugh that grated in the dreamwolf's ears. The human boy was completely forgotten for the moment. "You see, you dreamwolves have a power I cannot comprehend. It is so unlike our Magick, so uncanny in form, so unique that I realized I couldn't use it. Of course, what I can't use I destroy. It proves to be much less of a threat that way." The silver-haired human, if he could be called one, snapped his fingers.
The shadows behind the sorcerer merged to form a gigantic snarling beast with ruby-red eyes. The creature was the antithesis of the dreamwolves, the distorted and bulky lupine outlined by coarse black hair. There was intelligence in those flashing crimson eyes or bared, ivory incisors.
"Do you like my pet, dreamwolf?" The sorcerer's hand fondly stroked the creature's ebony fur, watching it fade wisp-like upon contact. "I'm sure you've heard of the legend of the Soul-eaters; mindless creatures damned to consume souls for eternity without satisfaction. This particular Soul-eater seems to have a fondness for dreamwolves. A pity that you're the last one."
The sorcerer's words left the dreamwolf stunned and completely caught off guard. A chilling roar was building in his mind.
He was the _last_ dreamwolf. That was why the others had not responded to his pleas for help. Dreamwolves were pack-brothers and sisters who had always hunted and supported each other. He had been a fool to doubt their loyalty.
Yet, it no longer mattered, did it?
In his vortex of grief and torment, the sorcerer's voice was a muffle to his ears. "Soul-eater. Destroy the dreamwolf. Destroy your last prey and relish it."
Stunned. Absolutely shocked beyond movement. Was this what the sorcerer had planned all along, to ensnare the dreamwolf with this cruel confession?
Maybe… just maybe he should fight. He should defend himself and make his death honourable.
The dreamwolf felt the Soul-eater lunging hungrily at him. The beast's red eyes flashed wildly, teeth seeking the spirit-wolf's silvered fur. Though the dreamwolf was of spirit-essence only, he felt the flare of pain as a chunk of his fur and spirit-flesh was brutally ripped from his flank. He knew this agony was only the beginning; he knew he should fight; but his soul had lost the will.
What did it matter anyway? He was the last one. No one would care.
The dreamwolf felt his legs fall and give away to the uncontested strength of the Soul-eater, felt the ebony beast rip his beautiful skin with insatiable hunger; and yet, he felt nothing.
He would be free to join the rest of his kind. His pack brothers and sisters were waiting for him. He would tell them his tale and frolic among them, and raise the young cubs and-
"Get away from him, Soul-eater!"
It was a voice, sharp and ringing to his ears. And it belonged to none other than the neglected one, the one sitting in mortified silence throughout the supernatural onslaught. The voice commanded again, and it was rich in tone, in a flavour so unlike its submissive self. "You heard me, Soul-eater! Get away from him!"
More annoyed at being interrupted than threatened, the beast of flashing red eyes and sharp white teeth looked up from its prey and snarled at the human who dared offend it.
The dreamwolf's vision was blurring, and he couldn't tell if the human had backed away or if this boy still had enough defiance to stare into the Soul-eater's eyes. Why this Ryou had tried to help the dreamwolf was beyond his present capacity to comprehend.
Another roar from the Soul-eater, another shout from the human boy, and then a command from the Sorcerer. The screams and shouts of rage blended into the dreamwolf's ears until they were a single mass of shrill cries. The chaotic shouts grew louder and made the entire room shake.
He was unprepared for the terrible pain that suddenly lanced through his soul.
It was as if the flames of judgement had been forced into his lupine body. His mind screamed in silent agony though the cry died in his throat. Every fibre of his existence, the very essence of his soul, was being burned, melted, twisted alive!
And then it ended. The dreamwolf found himself on his paws, white fur trembling with exhaustion.
But he was alive, and he was somehow standing. And miraculously healed.
The dreamwolf heard an angry hiss, sensed a flare of Magick, and then silence. He suddenly realized that he and the human boy were once again alone. The strange human boy who possessed some unknown power.
This time, it was the human who approached the dreamwolf. The white-haired boy murmured a few soft words and stroked the wolf-spirit's silken ivory fur.
"I-I don't know what happened. I was scared, and then, it suddenly flashed brightly and I closed my eyes." The human was babbling. "By the time I opened them, I realized that it had destroyed the Soul-eater and that you were still alive."
Alive. Yes, alive, but bruised and pained. The fire of whatever Magick the boy possessed had burned the Dreamwolf and yet healed him from all mortal wounds.
"It…" The dreamwolf struggled to keep his voice level. "What is this 'it' that you speak of?"
But the dreamwolf did not need to ask. He saw _it_ dangling around the boy's neck. So inconspicuous and innocent-looking, like a fancy golden trinket.
The Millennium Ring, one of the legendary Millennium Items, empowered with a legendary power and fierce will of its own. A piece of the set of relics that almost destroyed the Darkworld so long ago.
And yet, why did it save him?
Ryou's words came again.
~*~ "For a moment, I thought your thoughts were mine and your actions what I unconsciously willed, because in truth, though we may be completely different, there is not that much difference in our souls" ~*~
And the dreamwolf, for all that he claimed to be, suddenly knew what he wasn't. He denied to be humbled by the boy's words, but only they explained the veritable truth.
True, dreamwolves were creatures of the Darkworld. Yet, they had the moral reasoning and spirituality of humans instead of the darkness and feral hatred of those belonging to the Darkworld. That was why the Ring had spared him. The Millennium Items blessed humans and purged the Darkworld 'demons'.
So it was the truth. That Dreamwolves were an odd blend of human spirit and Darkworld myth. Or were they neither?
The dreamwolf tossed his head in agitation, trying to shake away his thoughts. They haunted him, as the sorcerer's words stuck in his soul like a poisoned arrow. He was the last of his kind. He would never know the reason of the dreamwolf's existence, their past, or what destiny they had to fulfill. Or did it matter in the first place?
Something wet touched his face, leaving a slick trail of saliva over his fine white fur. The dreamwolf jerked in surprise. He found himself gazing into a pair of vibrant yellow eyes, innocent and arcane.
The yellow-eyed pup opened its jaws and gave a small grin, tongue lolling out in youthful glee. It gave a small whine and proceeded to softly lick the older dreamwolf's leg.
"So you survived your ordeal, dreamwolf."
It was that voice, rich and firm in tone. The dreamwolf's fur involuntary bristled. "You!" A low growl escaped his throat. "Why are you here?"
Though the nighthunter's arms were crossed with smug confidence, his words were oddly humble. "The Soul-eater did not escape my eyes. I wish I had realized it earlier, but there were simply too many things in my mind." He swallowed, a very human gesture. "I apologize, dreamwolf. These pups I found may be the last of your kind, but they are also the first."
There were three of them, small bundles of fur and soft whimpers, romping around the carpeted room on an adventure. One of them, the one who had licked the elder dreamwolf, stopped and looked at him with curiosity. The small dreamwolf pup shook its stubby tail, inviting the elder dreamwolf to play.
Entranced, the spirit-wolf trotted towards the last of his kindred and nuzzled the first one gently. A warm pulse vibrated through his soul. It was the unconscious greeting of two similar beings. The dreamwolf looked into the small pup's amber eyes and then back to the human gazing in awe at the spectacle.
The Pharaoh of the nighthunters gave a small bow. "I'll take my leave then, dreamwolf."
There was a hidden sentence after those words. We shall meet again. The spirit-wolf turned his attention back to the young ones. "I have a feeling that this sorcerer is not only my enemy."
The nighthunter gave a small nod. With a flicker of his ebony cloak, he leapt out the open window back into the night air. His figure was soon lost amongst the moonlit darkness.
"W-who was he?" The human Ryou had finally snapped out of his shock. "Is he-"
"-Yes." The spirit-wolf dismissed the boy's stunned surprise. "The very leader of the vampires. You'll see him again."
The boy's eyes widened. "Again? Why?"
It took the dreamwolf a while to realize it himself. Just as he yearned for his own kind, he also desired a soul like his own. It didn't matter that the boy was weak, was human, was infallibly clumsy and blundering. That was only the body, and it was merely a mask of the soul, possibly a puppet that the dreamwolf could use in the future. He knew he had the boy's consent.
"It's very late." There was a flicker of longing in the spirit-wolf's eyes. "You should go to sleep now, Ryou."
Ryou. The dreamwolf had called the human boy by name.
The white-haired boy nodded. The pain and excitement had left his mind numb. "I'll do that." He turned to peel off his worn clothes and change into his more comfortable pyjamas. "Where will you go?"
The dreamwolf could not help but give a dry chuckle. "I'm a dreamwolf, Ryou. A spirit who lives among your dreams. Where else would I go?"
The boy's chestnut eyes grew large, mouth forming into a silent "oh". He softly and self-consciously crept into his bed and closed the lights. "Then, you'll come soon?"
"Of course. As soon as you're asleep."
The boy was still a bit confused. "But you never told me your name. How will I remember or recognize you?"
The spirit-wolf paused. A name? Nevertheless, it amused him. He searched within the boy's memory bank, the human's open mind of thoughts and feelings. Yes, he would have a name.
"Bakura." The dreamwolf liked the harshness of the word's syllables. "Call me Bakura if you must."
Ryou's eyes widened again, stirred from his drained, half-sleeping state. "B-but that's my last name!"
The spirit-wolf grinned. He watched the pups sit patiently on their haunches, three sets of eyes waiting for him. "I know."
***************************************
[1] The Book of Dreamwolf Rules is made of a list of restrictions set on the dreamwolf mind-Energy. This was first established during the creation of the Darkworld, after the dreamwolves proclaimed themselves as a largely pacifist species. Without them, they could possibly be the strongest and most dangerous of the Darkworld creatures.
[2] SPOILER WARNING: For those of you who have not gone to Jenniyah's page of Yu-gi-oh! Scanslations, Mahaado is the official name of Yami's Dark Magician back in ancient Egypt (before he became the D. Magician, that is)
[3] Yeah, couldn't resist. Sorry ;P
End notes:
Three weeks and almost twenty pages. *sighs* Either you suffer with a big chapter and slower updates, or I cut them in half. But then, it wouldn't be a chapter – I mean, why the heck would I want to post half a chapter?
Well, next time we explore yet another facet of the Darkworld. As always.
Preview for next chapter:
Yuugi said nothing after the entire tale had been retold. A tingle of excitement burned in his mind as he realized that Ryou, his friend, also knew the Darkworld secret. Yuugi felt grateful to be able to confide to someone else.
"So the tale has been told." Yami shrugged it off as if it were only a story.
Yuugi's eyes glistened with curiosity. "Where are they now, Yami?"
The ruby-eyed nighthunter looked thoughtful. "Where they usually are. Perhaps not so different from our encounters." He gave a small frown. Already, two of the most influential Darkworld creatures had broken the one of the unspoken Laws, himself being one. He wondered how many others would follow. "What can I say? The harm has been done."
"Nighthunters and dreamwolves." The violet-eyed youth mused. "Are there more? And how many more? What do they look like?"
Yami chuckled. "Not so fast, little one. Of course there are more. There are many strains and variations, like the different nationalities among you humans."
Yuugi's eyes strayed to the night sky outside the bedroom window. For a moment, he thought he saw a shadow flicker over the moon's pale face. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was just tired and seeing things.
The vampire, however, seemed intrigued. He walked to the windowsill, gazing silently at the moon.
"What was that?" Yuugi whispered. He shuddered as he remembered the twisting, serpentine form of the fleeting shadow. "It's not dangerous, is it?"
Yami's response was immediate. "No, not to the ones it remembers." He paused, a sudden mischievous smile creeping into his normally solemn expression. "You're not tired are you, Yuugi?"
Baffled, the violet-eyed youth shook his head. "N-no"
The nighthunter's ruby eyes glimmered with anticipation. "Then how would you like to go flying?"