Days went past and still, back in the castle, Marik waited impatiently. The pharaoh and his fellow companions had not found their way to inquire back through time yet.

How could anybody possibly be so stupid? He wondered, half to his amusement. Never mind, all is in good time. Meanwhile, what do I do with the princess? That bewitching thing has the heart of iron when it comes to me. He gave a crooked smile when he thought nobody was watching.

But one thing bothered him. Her nightmares.

Ever since that night of their confrontation, every night following that he had awaken in the dead of the nights to screaming. Sometimes he couldn't hear it, but he could feel it. He sensed her trying to smother her cries at night, though not well enough. Every night, he'd wait up to a sudden cry, he'd throw his robe over his body and rush into her room. And every night, he'd find her tossing in her bed, drenched in cold sweat. Due to her fear and dread of this whole era, he was sure.

But this had got to stop, he'd decided. So one evening, through her indignant protests, he moved into her room. Not her room, exactly, but the living room of her chamber. And there, at night, he'd read his books and leave her to her own doings. Occasionally, after she was asleep, he'd drag a chair over and watch her peaceful face as she dreamed. Sometimes, her full lips would curl up to a small smile, but more than often was her pretty face a frown. A whimper from her would mean the beginning of the same stifling nightmare.

He'd murmur nonsensical words, not even sure of their meanings himself, and intertwine his fingers with her own. At times, that was enough to jog her out of the terrifying moment and ease her mind, but more times than he'd care to count, it didn't. One time, she'd been so restless and frightened that as he leaned over to wake her up, she threw her arms around his neck.

As for Daphne, Marik's presence only deepened her uneasiness. She'd wake up in the middle of the night and see those familiar pale lavender eyes watching her. Or right after her nightmare, her eyes would pop open only to stare into the depth of Marik's soul.

But during the evenings with him, she learned that he was not all he put up to be. He was a lonely person also impersonating into his greedy yami. When he looked at her, she could almost detect the touch of wistfulness in his part. He was a comfort in the middle of the dark night, in his own silent, mysterious way.

Why hadn't Yami come, yet? She wondered to herself as she stood by the window. A gentle breeze blew, billowing the lacy curtain. Her door opened and closed behind her and she turned.

Marik strode in and took no notice of her as he sat down in his usual chair and opened his dark, thick, text. She glanced at the clock. As usual, Marik was on his routine schedule. He was never a minute late.

"Marik?" Her voice was soft.

"Mmm…" He didn't look up from his book.

"Why do you think I keep getting these nightmares?" He looked up.

"I don't know. What are they about?"

"I don't know."

"You're probably frightened of something, then."

"But what am I frightened of?"

"Me." He looked up and Daphne swore she saw a ghost of a smile on his fine, but dark looking features. Then, seeing that she's not amused, he added, "There must be something you remember from those nightmares."

There was a silence. "I remembered Yami was in one of them." She said quietly.

"Humph…" Marik buried his nose back into his book. Somehow, even though the pharaoh was not here, their conversation would always include him somehow.

"Marik," she moved closer to him. "What was your father like? How come you never talk about him?"

Marik gave a short bark of laughter as he looked up from his book into her eyes. "My old man? There's nothing to talk about. He's not worth to be mentioned with my breath."

"Surely there must be something he's done that was good." Daphne couldn't believe anyone to not have a loving father, as she had. But she also understood the cruelties of this world. Like her cousins, their stepfather had been cruel and ruthless to Kaiba.

"Not all fathers are like yours, princess." His voice was sharp. "This world is a cruel place. Not all fathers are loving and not all mothers kiss away boo-boos."

"But, your father couldn't have been that bad. He must have at least done one thing in your life that you wouldn't forget."

"Sure." Marik's rough voice was bitter as he threw his head back and laughed. "You want to know one my old man did to me that I could never forget?" He stood up and his literature dropped to the floor with a thud. There was a unrelenting gleam in his eyes and Daphne could detect the hatred that Marik had for his father.

Daphne stepped back and frowned. Marik hadn't acted this barbaric ever since the first day they met. Evidentially, the subject about his father was a sensitive topic.

"My father has done something I'd never forget alright. And I'd never forgive him for it either."

"But," Daphne's voice was a whisper. "What could he have possibly done that was so horrible that you'd never forgive him for it?"

"My back." Suddenly, Marik swallowed, looking as if he desperately wanted to talk to someone about it. "When I was ten, he…" His voice cracked. Stepping slowly away from the young queen, Marik turned around and lowered his robe.

Daphne gasped and she watched in horror as Marik revealed his back. It was a horrible sight. The markings on his back was not branded, at least that would left the skin smooth. But this…this was much more horrible than anything she'd ever seen. The tanned muscles on Marik's back was a twisted mess of scared flesh, for the markings on his back was not branded into the skin, but carved into the flesh.

"Oh, Marik…this is horrible." She choked out. "And…your mother…what did she say?"

"Oh, she didn't have anything to say." Marik's voice hadn't lost its virulence. "My mother died giving birth to me. The only person that had dried my tears and lent me a shoulder to cry on was my sister." His voice turned sad and little, surprisingly.

"She was the one that took care of me when I was small. She would wake me up in the morning, teach me my lessons, play with me, shared my chores, and she came to my defenses when I was in trouble, which I was in…a lot." He smiled wryly. "She scolded me often, but her hugs made my days bright."

Daphne didn't say anything, but her eyes told the story of sympathy and compassion. And after another moment of silence, Marik jerked his robe back on and walked stiffly back to his book.

"I got carried away," he muttered gruffly. "You don't care. Go to sleep. Forget you ever saw what you saw tonight."

His voice was rough and had a tone of carelessness in it, but Daphne heard the hurt and pain underneath the thorns and that moment, she forgave Marik and her heart opened, accepting him. It no long matter what he had done or what he was going to do, it only mattered to her that he was only a boy only a year or two older than her who had a terrible past and was lonely.

"Oh, no, Marik," she said softly, moving toward him. "You're wrong, I do care."

Then before Marik's unbelieving eyes, Daphne gently tagged on his robe, revealing his back, and kissed the crying scars.

The clock in front of Kaiba's eyes said 2:17 AM. He groaned and sat up from his desk, where he had dozed off. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked around the library. Bakura was quietly snoring on the couch, where a book was clutched in his hand on his chest. Yami slumped over from his Indian-styled sitting position, his head nodding.

Three days. Kaiba tried to keep his eyes open. For three Ra forsaken days they had searched nonstop, up and down, in and out, left and right, English, Egyptian, Greek, Latin, Roman…Bakura even tried an ancient language called Ethiopian.

They tried everything.

And got no answers.

Groaning again, Kaiba stood from his desk and stumbled over to Yami.

"Hey, Yami," he muttered, his foot prodding Yami. "Wake up, we've got to keep searching." Yami woke up with a start.

"Oh, yes," he yawned. "That's right. Research. Yo, Bakura…" Was all he managed to say before his head drooped down. Soon, his deep breathing was heard in the room. Kaiba tumbled back into the library and sighed when he saw the two spirits still sleeping. He sighed, but didn't complain as he slumped back into his chair. Within a second, he was snoring softly;

Bakura never woke up during the five minutes.

Marik stared at the hieroglyphics in front of him. His brain wouldn't take in a word. They were still in shock from what Daphne had done.

She touched my scars, his eyes were filled with surprise and admiration. Not only that, but she kissed it.

He looked up at the figure under the sheets. The silk hangings still gave her a enigmatic look, but he thought she looked, well…she looked pretty.

But as soon as he had that thought, he could feel his yami talking to him inside his head.

//Marik, what's wrong with you?! Can't I trust you to handle something as simple as taking care of the pharaoh and the princess?!//

/I…I-I…/ Marik stuttered, in search of words. /You're right…this is my fate and destiny, I shouldn't be wasting time like this on the princess…/

//You're darn right you shouldn't be.// His yami growled. //You're nothing but a pathetic Ishtar who's scared of the dark. Why don't you return to the Millennium Rod and let me handle the princess. Trust me, there are many other ways to silence a princess so that she may never have nightmares again.//

/No! I-I can handle this. I can handle the rest of the mission. I never really cared about her anyway. I'll just remain in a farther distance from now on./

//I have let you taken control of the body for days now, especially when you're with her at night. Don't make me regret my decision and come out there.//

Silence.

//Do you hear me? Do I make myself clear enough?!//

/Yes./

//Good.//

A soft whimper was heard from the bed. Marik turned slightly, one of his eyes watched the figure. A moment later, a soft cry was heard. Marik sighed and tried to focus on his literature. His yami was right, he shouldn't be worrying about her. But he couldn't make himself ignore her last cry. He got up and started to walk toward her.

//Stay.// Marik stopped. "Go." His mind told him.

//Stay!//

"Go."

//I said stay!!//

Marik's heart said, "Go." It was a very small voice, but it was firm. "I'm sorry, yami." He said softly before leaning over the girl and letting his hands touch her cheek. Her eyelashes flattered, then closed over her lovely dark eyes as she drifted back to sleep with an air of silken mystery.

//I thought you understood my orders…// His yami sounded irritated and annoyed as he growled.

/I did./ Marik answered calmly as he watched Daphne's slow, deep, breathing as her chest rose up and down up and down.

/But I can't follow them./

A foot slowly rocked as every breath the figure took slowly brought the foot closer and closer to a long piece of ribbon, which was used to tie the scrolls together.

Breathe, rock, foot a little closer, breath, rock, foot a little more closer. Until the foot went through the loop that the ribbon had made. Unfortunately, the other end of the ribbon had unceremoniously attached itself to the bookshelf. But the person didn't notice this uncomfortable situation as he dreamed.

"You have lost the duel," Bakura's throaty voice echoed between the court as the duel ended.

"That does not matter." Mahato, one of the pharaoh's closest priests stated quietly. "You should not have tried to rob His Royal Greatness Yu-Gi-Oh's father's tomb, tomb robber. Therefore, you have already sealed your whole eternity in the Millennium Ring. A far greater and worse punishment than death could bring."

"What!?" Bakura growled. "But I won!"

"It doesn't matter. You fate had been determined the moment I caught you in the tomb. This duel was a duel to determine my destiny."

"You must be crazy!"

"If I had won, you would have been seal within the Shadow Realm of the Millennium Ring. But you have won, thereupon I must use my soul to seal yours in the Ring." The young sorceress explained before he chanted some words.

"What are you doing?!"

"My soul shall forever serve the pharaoh." Was Mahato's simple and sincere answer.

More words were chanted clearly as Bakura watched with fascination and horror as the two soul extraction. Then the chanting stopped and Bakura heard Mahato's last words,

"Pharaoh, my soul will serve you forever…"

The foot kicked out as the figure remembered the spell the priest had chanted. Unfortunately, yet predictably, the foot yanked the ribbon, which jerked the bookshelf. Thousands of books came showering upon a certain poor, asleep yami.

Yami jumped up as books were dumped on him. As an added insult, one last scroll rolled slowly down the shelf and landed on his head with a loud bonk!

By this time, Kaiba was startled away and jumped up, looking about wildly as if he expected some of Marik's rare hunter in the room. "Arghhhhhhhhh! Who's there!? What's wrong!? What the he—" He moaned and rubbed his eyes and temples.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" Bakura bounced up from the couch. "Who's there?! Stay away from me!" Before he tripped on the ribbon tangled on his foot and landed on the top heap of the mountains of book.

"Having an excited morning already, aren't we?" Kaiba remarked dryly as he eyed the two blinking yamis in front of him.

"Bakura," Yami said warningly. "Don't tell me you were the one that knocked all—"

"I remembered!" Bakura interrupted as he hopped up. "I remembered how to bring us back to ancient Egypt!"

"Big brother?" Mokuba came into the room, his voice small as he whined. "Are you awake? I'm hungry and there's no food in the house…"

Kaiba hurriedly handed the little brother that he's neglected over the last few days his credit card and said, "Here, kid, get yourself something to eat. NO junk food!!" He added as the little Kaiba sped out of the room and down the stairs. He turned to the two spirits, who were already in a deep conversation.

"Okay, let's search!" Yami was ordering.

"What are we looking for?" Kaiba demanded to know.

"The scrolls that were kept by Mahato!" Bakura shouted as he hurried off to where Yami's most precious scrolls were kept. "Mahato was one of Yami's priests, a record concerning him and his magic should be in one of those scrolls."

But after an hour of searching in the ancient scriptures, they found nothing.

"I'm so sick of this!" Kaiba finally exclaimed. "If Marik wanted us to follow him, then why doesn't he provide us with a way! If he thinks this is a funny game, he should get a life and guess again!"

"It should be here," Bakura muttered to himself. "Mahato, Mahato…he died and gave his life to the pharaoh. He became—" Suddenly, his head snapped up. "Dark Magician. That's it!"

"What?" Yami looked up from his work.

"In order for Mahato to serve you forever, he became the Dark Magician! His soul fused into the monster." Without waiting around, Bakura seized the load of parchments from Yami and threw them from side to side until he found the right one.

"I found it!" He crowed triumphantly, holding the scroll up like a trophy.

"What is it that you found?" Yami questioned, raising an eyebrow, looking almost just like Kaiba when he does that.

"The spell Mahato chanted," Bakura quickly explained as he unrolled the scroll. "No, I mean the reverse spell that he chanted. It wasn't listed in his spellcaster's record. It was in his personal autobiography!"

"That's right…" Yami breathed. "It was required for the priests to record their very action in the life biography. I should have known! Is it in there?" He looked over quickly.

"Yes! I found it!!!" Bakura's raspy voice all but cheered. "Now, then, let's go—" He stopped all of a sudden and looked over at Kaiba. He scowled, "Kaiba, get over here."

Kaiba reluctantly shuffled over. "Are you sure this is safe?" He muttered.

"Of course, I am!" Bakura snapped. His eyes scanned over the written contents and his eyebrows arched into a slight frown. "Well," he began awkwardly. "In this version, we're suppose to hold hands or only the person who chants the spell with the Millennium Ring will return."

"Hold hands?" Yami echoed with disbelief. Kaiba gave them a disdainful look.

"Well, you can pronounce the Egyptian words, so you and I don't have to hold hands. But—" He added quickly. "You have to hold Kaiba's hands."

"Why me?!" Yami groaned.

"Hey!" Kaiba put in defensively. "At least my hands aren't sweaty." All three of them winced at the sound of that.

"Okay, fine." Bakura took charge. "All of us will put our right hand out in the middle so our hands overlap."

"Why does it have to be our right hand?" The willow brunette complained.

"Fine! Your left hand then!" The other snapped. "But don't blame me if you end up in ancient Greece instead of Egypt!"

"Wait, are you sure this is going to work?" Yami looked as nervous as they all felt, at the same time, determined.

"As sure as can be," The holder of the Millennium Ring said with serious grimness.

"Let's do this then." Kaiba stuck his hand out and forced himself not to jerk his hand back when Yami placed his on top of his hand. Bakura was on the top.

"Let's hope this work." He nodded before chanting the spell.