Yu-Gi-Oh!
Dawn of Fate
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[Inside Skyla's room at the Angel Wings tree house. Yami Yugi is stretched out on Skyla's bed, reading a Hellsing manga. Skyla is at her computer, looking over her reviews and chuckling.]
Y.Yugi: You're an evil authoress, you know that right?
Skyla: ^_^ But of course. I really had people going here. It seems like some of them were crying!
Y.Yugi: -_- Oui...
Skyla: Did you see this? This is the most reviews I've ever gotten for a chapter. Maybe I should kill a character more often; it sure as heck gets people's attention.
Y.Yugi: Just do the Q&A before a mob of fan girls attack you.
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Harpie Yamazaki: ::hands her a tissue:: There, there... ^^;
Hikari no Mari: Heh, glad you like the the series so far. ::hugs her and her yami::
TypoNumber5: Oh, my... I made someone schizophrenic. O_o
T'laren: ^^;;; Cliffies are the best to write, but the worst to read.
Violet Blossoms: Yes... yes I did say a character was going to die... ^_^
Inu-Ranma: Yeah; Yami Yugi's real name (Atemu) is like an uber "Fusion" card. His name fuses the three Gods together into one seriously awesome creature.
MillenniumDreamer: I never said I wouldn't. ::innocent whistle::
Cloud Dragon: ::helps her stand back up:: There, there... hang in there and read this chapter. ;)
Yami Yami Yugi: O_O Okay, that one just freaks me out, thanks...
Towairaito Zoon: ::snaps her fingers:: Damn. You were only one of two people that weren't fooled.
Bardicfeline: You were the other person. ;) And don't worry, I planned some Isis and Bill interaction later on.
WatcherofDarkness: Yes... yes it did hurt... ;)
Mimiheart: ^_______^
AbbiCat14: O_o ::hands her a tissue:: Um... there, there?
Kitty Neko: It's amazing that it took a character dying for you to leave a review that didn't just say "update soon". _ _
Shaun Garin: ::squeezes back:: Review again, okay? The more feedback, the merrier. :)
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Y.Yugi: Aren't you don't yet?
Skyla: Hush! There's an art in responding to sobbing, hysterical people. XD
Y.Yugi: ::rolls his eyes::
Skyla: Anyway... this story broke my record for longest fan fic! My last record was twenty-two chapters at a hundred and sixty-six pages. This one is twenty-three chapters at a hundred and seventy-one pages, and still going!
Y.Yugi: You know, this just proves you have no life...
Skyla: -_-;;;;
Y.Yugi: Gottcha. ~_^
Skyla: ::grumbles:: Read, enjoy, and then review.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - HEART OF BURNING MAGIC
It felt like a piece of herself had died, there was no other way Hermione could have described it. One minute, she was cheering Harry and Marik on with the others, the next minute she felt cold and empty. She looked over to her other self, sitting quietly next to her. Aishisu had a stony and distant expression on her face, as if she were looking at something that no one else could see. The soothsayer turned to give her light half a worried look, before leaning over and tapping Yami Yugi on the shoulder, who sat one seat below them with his arm wrapped around his hikari.
"Pharaoh, I fear something terrible has happened," she said loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd. Yami Yugi's expression suddenly turned concerned.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I... I think Marik's light has just gone out."
Yami Yugi jumped from his seat, startling Yugi, demanding to know what she meant by that. Hermione, however, just sat in her seat, her mind numb. Marik was...
Marik...
~.oOOo.~
The pain from his scar finally receded, Harry was once again able to see what was happening in the graveyard around him. What he saw first, however, shook him to his very soul. Marik was lying spread-eagled next to him. His lavender eyes were open, yet vacant, as if he were staring through the windows of an empty house. His mouth was open, looking like he had been surprised before he...
He was...
Before Harry's brain could even accept what had happened, he felt himself being hauled up to his feet. The hooded figure - he was able to tell that it was a man this close - had set down his bundle and was now dragging him toward one of the tombstones. He barely felt being slammed against one of the largest stones, nor did he notice that the man had conjured thick cords to bind him to the stone from his neck down to his ankles. His eyes never left the spot where Marik's body lay, half hidden by the thick mists.
Marik was...
His best friend was...!
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
The voice of the cloaked man brought Harry back to reality in time to see the surface of the grave at his feet crack open. He watched in horror as a find trickle of dust he suspected was decayed bone floated up into the air before falling into a steaming black cauldron. Next to the cauldron was the man that had tied him up; his hood had fallen back to reveal none other than Peter Pettigrew. The bundle he had been carrying was nowhere in sight, and Harry had a sinking suspicion that it was inside the cauldron.
Pettigrew was whimpering, and he pulled out a long, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak.
"Flesh... of the servant... w-willingly given... you will... revive... your master."
Harry realized what he was going to do, and managed to turn away a split second before it actually happened. Pettigrew screamed in agony as his right hand landed in the cauldron, no longer attached to the rest of his arm. His pain-filled scream echoed through the dead night, sending chills down Harry's spine.
Before he knew it, Pettigrew had managed to drag himself over to his side.
"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe."
The dagger lanced out, piercing the crook of Harry's right arm. He saw his own blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes, and Pettigrew somehow managed to pull out a glass vial from his pocket and held it up to the cut, taking the blood for the cauldron.
Pettigrew staggered back to said cauldron, before pouring Harry's blood inside. The liquid within instantly glared white, making the young wizard turn away from it. He did not see Pettigrew fall to the earth after his job was finished, though he did hear his sobs. The cauldron started to simmer, sending diamond-like sparks in all directions that were so bright it turned all else to darkness. Nothing happened...
"Please, God, let it have drowned..." Harry muttered, not realizing he had said something aloud.
To his horror, something actually responded. It was a laugh, the same cold, cruel laugh he had heard when they first arrived.
"Oré-sama doesn't think it's that simple, pretty-pretty," a voice hissed in his ear.
Harry felt his blood run cold at the voice. He looked around frantically, trying to find the source of it. It almost sounded like... but that was impossible, he was...
His thoughts were drawn away from the voice as the sparks emanating from the cauldron suddenly extinguished. A surge of white steam shot up from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything before him with its thickness. Harry squinted, trying to see what was happening. Maybe the voice was wrong; maybe it was that simple, and it did drown.
Oh, please, let it be dead...
As if mocking him, a dark outline of a man appeared within the mists before him. He was tall and skeletally thin, and was rising ever so slowly from inside the cauldron.
"Robe me," came the high, cold voice from the steam. Harry felt a surge of darkness brush past him, and an un-definable dark creature started to walk toward the cauldron. It had the shape of a human, but everything else was distorted, as if it was not sure what its true form really was. He had to assume, though, that it was a spirit like Yami Yugi and the others had been, for it was able to pick up the man's robes from the ground and pull them over his head.
The tall, thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry...
Harry felt himself pushing against the tombstone he was bound to, trying to get away from that face... the face that had haunted his nightmares for the past three years. It was whiter than a skull, with wide, sinister scarlet eyes and a nose that was as flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils...
Lord Voldemort had risen again...
~.oOOo.~
Hermione ran as fast as she could through the Quidditch stadium stands, tears stinging her eyes. She could hear the sounds of Aishisu and Yami Yugi trying to keep up behind her, but she paid them no heed. She was too intent on getting to the judge's box, which was where the teachers normally sat during a Quidditch game, and trying to ignore the images that kept trying to force their way into her mind. Images of a vile snake, once dead, suddenly coming to life and striking out at...
Oh, Gods. It was all her fault...
She finally pushed her way past the last of the crowd blocking her path to the judge's box. Looking up, she saw that Dumbledore seemed to be preoccupied with watching the task, but from the slight frown on his face, it looked like he already knew something was wrong.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione called up to get his attention, just as Aishisu and Yami Yugi finally caught up to her. "Something terrible has happened!"
Dumbledore turn his concerned gaze over to her, while Madame Maxime tsked in disapproval.
"'Ow could you even know zat someth'ng was wrong?" she demanded. Dumbledore, however, put a hand on her broad shoulder.
"Believe me, Olympe, if anyone were to know something was wrong, it would be her," he assured her.
Maxime still looked doubtful as Dumbledore stood up and raised his wand. Blue sparks shot out of it, and even from her vantage point, Hermione could see Professor McGonagall and Hagrid enter the maze. Professor Moody, the fourth of the teachers that had been assigned to patrol the outside of the maze in the event there was trouble, was nowhere that she could see.
"You three," Dumbledore said, nodding to Aishisu and Yami Yugi behind her. "Follow me."
Hermione, Aishisu, and Yami Yugi followed the headmaster out of the stands, just as the cheers from the crowd started to turn into curious murmurs. By the time they reached one of the outside entrances to the maze, an unnatural hush had fallen over the stadium, one that made Hermione's hair stand on end.
They were about to enter, when she saw Professor Flitwick standing next to Krum (who was sitting down) out of the corner of her eye. Hermione ran over to them, concerned about the way that Krum was acting. He was hugging his knees to his chest and his eyes were squeezed shut. She ran over to the two of them, kneeling beside the Bulgarian.
"What happened?" she asked.
"We found him stunned near the center of the maze," Flitwick answered.
Krum turned a bleary gaze toward her. "Hermy-own-ninny, it is all my fault," he said, his voice choked with tears he was trying not to shed. "I did someth'ng terrible... but I do not know how. I do not even know the vand movement..."
Hermione felt her breath freeze in her throat. Did he...?
A hand fell on her shoulder, and she turned slightly to see Yami Yugi standing above her. His expression was grim, but determined.
"Whatever has happened tonight," he said softly, "no one standing here should blame themselves for."
~.oOOo.~
They had arrived.
Harry felt a shudder course its way through his body, watching in mute horror as wizards seemed to appear from out of nowhere. They approached the Dark Lord reverently, as if they could hardly believe he was really standing before them. Then, they each bowed at his feet, kissing the hem of his robes before backing off and forming a circle that enclosed Voldemort, the grave he was tied to, and the still whimpering Pettigrew. The dark spirit was still around as well, hovering somewhere near his shoulder, sending chills down his spine as the creature shifted restlessly.
Voldemort began to speak to his gathered followers, and while Harry knew he should have paid attention to what he was saying in the event that he managed to escape. He just could not bring himself to do it, however. His eyes kept drifting back to where Marik was lying, his still body shrouded in the mists. There was no way he could be… no, he could not even think the word. Marik was alive… his best friend, one of the few people who had stuck with him no matter what... he HAD to be alive.
"Poor, pretty-pretty," the dark creature hissed in his ear. "Holding on to hope? Holding on to the fact that oré-sama's old hikari-pretty will save you?"
The faceless creature giggled sadistically as Harry's brain processed that information. Hikari... Yugi had told him once that "hikari" meant "light" and "yami" meant "darkness". Yugi, Seto, Ryou, and Hermione; they were called "hikaris" because theirs was the personality that was always present in the light of day. Panseru, the other Seto, Bakura, and Aishisu; they were called "yamis" because they hid in the shadows of the mind. As far as he knew, Marik was not supposed have a yami...
Was he?
"What are you?" Harry demanded, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. He got the feeling that if the spirit had a mouth, it had just broken out into a wide, sadistic grin.
"'Yami' itself," he hissed in answer. "More specifically, Marik no Yami."
~.oOOo.~
Something was definitely not right. Either he took a wrong turn on the way to Osiris' trial chamber, or someone was playing some kind of sick practical joke. He felt himself stir, and as he did so, also felt his spirit body ache in protest. That could not be right, though. If he was dead, how could he still be able to feel pain? Suddenly, there was a playful giggle from somewhere above him.
"Teacher-sama, he's waking up!" came a girl-like voice.
"Mana, please, if you crowd him any more, you're going to suffocate him," came a definitely masculine voice.
"Well it's not my fault he's taking forever to wake up!" Mana's voice came again, sounding like she was pouting. Then, he felt something jabbing him in the side. "C'mon, you desert slug! Wake up!"
"Mana...!" the man groaned.
The poking continued, however. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! Darkness is threatening to take over your friend and you're just lying around sleeping!"
Painfully, he reached a hand out, grabbing the finger that was poking him and cracking open an eye. He was lying down on... something, he could not tell what, looking up at a brown haired young woman with a youthful look to her face. She was wearing a strange sort of headband that rested over her errant hair, as well as a very short dress. The girl - Mana - smiled broadly, helping him sit up.
"It's about time!" she exclaimed. "I was starting to think we missed a piece of your soul or something. How are you feeling, Marik?"
Marik looked around blearily. It looked like they were in the middle of the desert; sand dunes dotted the landscape around them, and a gorgeous clear blue sky was above. Judging from what the girl had said... was this supposed to be his Soul Room? Looking beyond Mana, he saw that they were not the only ones there. An old man stood leaning on a golden cane, aloof from them, watching the exchange with slight interest. The other man, the one that had spoken before...
"You," Marik said. "I had a dream about you."
The man nodded, the points dangling from his shoulder ornaments glinting in the false sunlight. "I am Mahaado, one of Pharaoh Panseru's six priests and the leader of the Gravekeepers."
Marik could only stare in silent shock. This was the man that the tomb robber said he was descended from... but...
"How can you be here?" he asked. "What happened?"
"We managed to grab your soul just as it was about to leave your body," Mana said, indicating herself, Mahaado, and the old man.
Marik jumped to his feet. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he asked. "You said Harry-kun was in trouble. Why can't I just go back to my body and kick some ass?"
Mana giggled at his use of words, while Mahaado frowned slightly.
"It's... not that simple," he said.
Marik glared. "What do you mean it's not that simple!?" he demanded. "One of my best friends is in trouble, and you tell me I can't hurry to help him? What gives you that right?!"
"Your body is dead."
Marik looked up in surprise as the old man shuffled closer to where he was standing. Wizened eyes that seemed as if they could barely see anymore peered up at him, and a benevolent expression appeared on his face. Something glared in the Egyptian's eyes, and he backed up a bit, glancing down. Around the man's neck hung a small, golden sun pendant, which was reflecting the false sunlight from above.
"While we were able to easily save your soul," the old man continued, "we were unable to save your body without revealing ourselves, and that would have caused even more of a mess than what is going on now."
The old man turned and pointed his staff to the sky, swirling it about. A window of perception appeared in his Soul Room, showing what was going on in the graveyard in the real world. Marik watched in horror, as helpless as Harry was tied to that tombstone, as Voldemort walked amongst his followers, speaking to each of them, before coming to Pettigrew. Words were exchanged, before something silvery came out of the Dark Lord's wand and attached itself to the stump that the rat's hand had once been attached to. A new hand formed itself there, and Pettigrew stood up, marveling at it.
That was not the only thing going on in the scene that held Marik's attention. Next to Harry was a humanoid-shaped black THING... a thing that did not have a face...
He fell to his knees as the scene faded away, a defeated look on his face.
"So, that's it then," he muttered. "Voldemort's probably going to figure out some way to take Harry's soul away without harming his body, my Darkness will take over, and that'll be the end of everything before it even began."
He felt, more than saw, Mahaado kneel down next to him. The priest rested a hand on his shoulder encouragingly.
"You can't give up hope yet," he said.
Marik looked over at his hand... and frowned slightly when he saw that the gold cuff Mahaado had been wearing around his lower arm had turned into a purple one. He looked up at the priest fully… only to stumble backward in shock. He was now garbed in the robes and armor of the Black Magician. The only thing that was missing from the outfit was the hat, allowing the priest's bleach-blonde hair to spill freely over his shoulders. Marik glanced over his shoulder at Mana, only to see that she too had changed. Her hair had become blonde as well, and she was dressed in the blue and pink dress of the Black Magician Girl.
"Well..." Marik finally forced himself to say after a long moment. "At least now I know what the tomb robber meant when he said you were sleeping within Yugi's deck..."
Mahaado chuckled slightly, reaching out to where the Millennium Ring hung around Marik's chest. He lifted it up slightly, letting the points dangle down.
"The magic of protection from the Millennium Ring had been tainted by that tomb robber," he said. "But it seems that since you've had it, it has been able to purify itself, thanks to your innocent soul."
"When you can return to the real world again, you should be able to use its power to its fullest," Mana added, before winking. "As well as a little something special from the two of us."
Marik looked between the two of them, frowning slightly. "But... you just said that my body was dead. How can I go back if I don't have a body to go back to?"
"That is what we're waiting for."
Marik peered back up at the old man. A Black Magician... a Black Magician Girl... if that pendant was any indication, then the old man had to be...
Ra smiled benevolently. "We're waiting for a miracle from another God."
~.oOOo.~
"Crucio!"
Harry had never experienced such pain before in his life. He wanted to move against the pain, to try to get it all to stop, but he was bound so tightly to the tombstone that the only thing he could do was scream out his pain. Then, just as quickly as it had come, it vanished once again, leaving him hanging heavily against the cords the bound him, gasping desperately for breath. He glared up at the pale face of Voldemort, shuddering slightly at the murderous look in his red eyes. The dark creature had moved from his position behind Harry, and was now leaning casually against the cauldron.
"Oui," Marik no Yami commented idly, "don't damage pretty-pretty's body too much, eh? Oré-sama does not want to have to enter a weak body."
Voldemort gave the dark spirit a casual glace. "I assure you, my dark friend," he said, "you will receive your just reward for assisting me."
One of the Death Eaters that had gathered stepped forward. "My lord..." came Lucius Malfoy's voice, "please tell us... what exactly is that... CREATURE... and what is his purpose?"
Voldemort smirked, before reaching over to rest a hand on Marik no Yami's shoulder. The dark spirit turned slightly to look at Malfoy. Though he had no face, it seemed as if he was giving the Death Eater a wicked smile that was terrifying enough to make him step back.
"As you all well know," Voldemort began, "I encountered a slight... problem four years ago. That problem was an ancient power I had never heard of before; it was so strong that it left me unfathomably weak. I drifted in and out between this realm and another... and realm of shadows. That was where I met this creature of darkness. He told me a fascinating story of a spirit of a pharaoh with no memory, of tomb robbers and priests of the ancient days of Egypt... of cards so powerful that they could grant the world to whomever controlled all three of them. Of course, I was a bit skeptical at first, but I knew a creature of pure darkness could not lie, so I pulled him out of that dark realm with me. And then, who should come to be but none other than Wormtail, holding this in his ratty paws."
Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out a Duel Monsters card. It was unlike any card he had ever seen, however. It was clearly a monster card, but instead of the yellow, brown, purple, or blue boarders of the normal, effect, fusion, and ritual monsters he knew of, the boarder for this card was jet black. The picture was indescribable; it seemed to be a snake - as the monster was nothing more than the long body of such a creature - yet it had the head of a Chinese dragon. Though Harry could not make out any kind of effect or attack and defense information in the darkness, he was able to see the name of the card easily enough. It was printed in English, and the words seemed to burn themselves into the minds of all who looked upon it.
Sinister Serpent, the God of Set.
That thing was a GOD CARD.
"This card signaled the rebirth of a God," Voldemort continued his narrative, returning the God Card to its hiding place. "A little bit of digging revealed everything else I needed to know... 'Should the nameless pharaoh choose to live on in this life, then the ancient wars will be renewed and chaos will return to the world. Two of the old Gods will be revived, one to oppose all. On the day of fate, in the hour of destiny, seven Chosen Ones, with the aid of the four Gods, will stand before the un-Chosen, who wields the power of the Stinking Head. The seven Chosen will fight bravely, but in the end they will fall. If these images remain unchanged, then everything will return to the beginning... a thousand years to infinity... a thousand times to repeat forevermore.'"
Harry's mouth hung open in shock. Except for the first part, that was Aishisu's prophesy from last year... but how could he have known about it? Pettigrew had gone into hiding long before the day in Divination, so he could not have learned it from him. Then how...?
Harry was forced out of his thoughts, as Voldemort was stalking toward him, that murderous gleam back in his eyes.
"I will change these images," he said, "because I will take the other revived God, and make sure it will never be used against me!"
He did not know what happened next. One moment, Harry heard Voldemort utter something in another language, the next minute his body was exploding with a white-hot pain that put the Cruciatus Curse to shame. He wanted to scream, but he did not have the voice to express just how painful it was. It felt like his very soul was being torn in half, and he would give anything for that excruciating pain to stop...
~~Don't give up yet!~~
The voice rang clear in his head, and before he knew it, Harry could not feel the pain anymore. A strange feeling came over him, like he was in two places at once. With his own eyes, he could see Voldemort's sinister face, yet his mind's eye showed him a completely different picture. He saw a boy, who could not be any older than eight, dressed in nothing more than a strange sort of kilt with a billowing cape of golden-red feathers drifting out behind him.
~~Please,~~ the boy said in his mind. ~~I'll lend you some of my power to fight him off, but please don't let him take me away. I'm not ready to come to this world again just yet!~~
It was like a miniature explosion, though Harry could not see it, and was not even aware of it for that matter. Holy light pierced through the sky, turning the night into day and forcing Voldemort and his followers to back away. The light was a prayer, soft and gentle; a plea for something, anything, to help them escape capture and death. After a moment, the holy power dimmed somewhat, giving everyone present a view of an unexpected - and to a certain dark spirit, unwelcome - sight. A symbol had appeared on Harry's forehead, and it seemed to be the very source of the light...
The Eye of the Wisdom of Darkness...
"Stop him!" Marik no Yami shrieked.
A sudden sting hit Harry's cheek, snapping him out of whatever it was that had happened to him, the light fading away along with it. He looked up, dazed, to see Voldemort standing before him, fuming in rage.
"It seems I'll have to break you before destroying you," he hissed, clearly not pleased. "Wormtail, fetch his wand."
Pettigrew left the circle of Death Eaters, going over to where Marik's body still lay - Harry vaguely remembered dropping his wand when he had fallen the first time. There was a long stretch of silence… before there was a bell-like tinkling, followed by Pettigrew screaming in absolute terror. Voldemort turned just in time to see him smack painfully against a nearby gravestone, nearly toppling it over. The dark spirit next to him hissed, backing away as a figure rose up from the mists, a something glowing brightly against their chest.
"I don't like it when people try to kill me!"
Harry raised his head, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Was it really…? Could it really be…?
"And I especially don't like it," Marik continued, the Millennium Ring flaring in an expression of his anger, "when people try to kill my friends too!"
Dawn of Fate
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[Inside Skyla's room at the Angel Wings tree house. Yami Yugi is stretched out on Skyla's bed, reading a Hellsing manga. Skyla is at her computer, looking over her reviews and chuckling.]
Y.Yugi: You're an evil authoress, you know that right?
Skyla: ^_^ But of course. I really had people going here. It seems like some of them were crying!
Y.Yugi: -_- Oui...
Skyla: Did you see this? This is the most reviews I've ever gotten for a chapter. Maybe I should kill a character more often; it sure as heck gets people's attention.
Y.Yugi: Just do the Q&A before a mob of fan girls attack you.
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Harpie Yamazaki: ::hands her a tissue:: There, there... ^^;
Hikari no Mari: Heh, glad you like the the series so far. ::hugs her and her yami::
TypoNumber5: Oh, my... I made someone schizophrenic. O_o
T'laren: ^^;;; Cliffies are the best to write, but the worst to read.
Violet Blossoms: Yes... yes I did say a character was going to die... ^_^
Inu-Ranma: Yeah; Yami Yugi's real name (Atemu) is like an uber "Fusion" card. His name fuses the three Gods together into one seriously awesome creature.
MillenniumDreamer: I never said I wouldn't. ::innocent whistle::
Cloud Dragon: ::helps her stand back up:: There, there... hang in there and read this chapter. ;)
Yami Yami Yugi: O_O Okay, that one just freaks me out, thanks...
Towairaito Zoon: ::snaps her fingers:: Damn. You were only one of two people that weren't fooled.
Bardicfeline: You were the other person. ;) And don't worry, I planned some Isis and Bill interaction later on.
WatcherofDarkness: Yes... yes it did hurt... ;)
Mimiheart: ^_______^
AbbiCat14: O_o ::hands her a tissue:: Um... there, there?
Kitty Neko: It's amazing that it took a character dying for you to leave a review that didn't just say "update soon". _ _
Shaun Garin: ::squeezes back:: Review again, okay? The more feedback, the merrier. :)
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Y.Yugi: Aren't you don't yet?
Skyla: Hush! There's an art in responding to sobbing, hysterical people. XD
Y.Yugi: ::rolls his eyes::
Skyla: Anyway... this story broke my record for longest fan fic! My last record was twenty-two chapters at a hundred and sixty-six pages. This one is twenty-three chapters at a hundred and seventy-one pages, and still going!
Y.Yugi: You know, this just proves you have no life...
Skyla: -_-;;;;
Y.Yugi: Gottcha. ~_^
Skyla: ::grumbles:: Read, enjoy, and then review.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - HEART OF BURNING MAGIC
It felt like a piece of herself had died, there was no other way Hermione could have described it. One minute, she was cheering Harry and Marik on with the others, the next minute she felt cold and empty. She looked over to her other self, sitting quietly next to her. Aishisu had a stony and distant expression on her face, as if she were looking at something that no one else could see. The soothsayer turned to give her light half a worried look, before leaning over and tapping Yami Yugi on the shoulder, who sat one seat below them with his arm wrapped around his hikari.
"Pharaoh, I fear something terrible has happened," she said loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd. Yami Yugi's expression suddenly turned concerned.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I... I think Marik's light has just gone out."
Yami Yugi jumped from his seat, startling Yugi, demanding to know what she meant by that. Hermione, however, just sat in her seat, her mind numb. Marik was...
Marik...
~.oOOo.~
The pain from his scar finally receded, Harry was once again able to see what was happening in the graveyard around him. What he saw first, however, shook him to his very soul. Marik was lying spread-eagled next to him. His lavender eyes were open, yet vacant, as if he were staring through the windows of an empty house. His mouth was open, looking like he had been surprised before he...
He was...
Before Harry's brain could even accept what had happened, he felt himself being hauled up to his feet. The hooded figure - he was able to tell that it was a man this close - had set down his bundle and was now dragging him toward one of the tombstones. He barely felt being slammed against one of the largest stones, nor did he notice that the man had conjured thick cords to bind him to the stone from his neck down to his ankles. His eyes never left the spot where Marik's body lay, half hidden by the thick mists.
Marik was...
His best friend was...!
"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"
The voice of the cloaked man brought Harry back to reality in time to see the surface of the grave at his feet crack open. He watched in horror as a find trickle of dust he suspected was decayed bone floated up into the air before falling into a steaming black cauldron. Next to the cauldron was the man that had tied him up; his hood had fallen back to reveal none other than Peter Pettigrew. The bundle he had been carrying was nowhere in sight, and Harry had a sinking suspicion that it was inside the cauldron.
Pettigrew was whimpering, and he pulled out a long, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak.
"Flesh... of the servant... w-willingly given... you will... revive... your master."
Harry realized what he was going to do, and managed to turn away a split second before it actually happened. Pettigrew screamed in agony as his right hand landed in the cauldron, no longer attached to the rest of his arm. His pain-filled scream echoed through the dead night, sending chills down Harry's spine.
Before he knew it, Pettigrew had managed to drag himself over to his side.
"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe."
The dagger lanced out, piercing the crook of Harry's right arm. He saw his own blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes, and Pettigrew somehow managed to pull out a glass vial from his pocket and held it up to the cut, taking the blood for the cauldron.
Pettigrew staggered back to said cauldron, before pouring Harry's blood inside. The liquid within instantly glared white, making the young wizard turn away from it. He did not see Pettigrew fall to the earth after his job was finished, though he did hear his sobs. The cauldron started to simmer, sending diamond-like sparks in all directions that were so bright it turned all else to darkness. Nothing happened...
"Please, God, let it have drowned..." Harry muttered, not realizing he had said something aloud.
To his horror, something actually responded. It was a laugh, the same cold, cruel laugh he had heard when they first arrived.
"Oré-sama doesn't think it's that simple, pretty-pretty," a voice hissed in his ear.
Harry felt his blood run cold at the voice. He looked around frantically, trying to find the source of it. It almost sounded like... but that was impossible, he was...
His thoughts were drawn away from the voice as the sparks emanating from the cauldron suddenly extinguished. A surge of white steam shot up from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything before him with its thickness. Harry squinted, trying to see what was happening. Maybe the voice was wrong; maybe it was that simple, and it did drown.
Oh, please, let it be dead...
As if mocking him, a dark outline of a man appeared within the mists before him. He was tall and skeletally thin, and was rising ever so slowly from inside the cauldron.
"Robe me," came the high, cold voice from the steam. Harry felt a surge of darkness brush past him, and an un-definable dark creature started to walk toward the cauldron. It had the shape of a human, but everything else was distorted, as if it was not sure what its true form really was. He had to assume, though, that it was a spirit like Yami Yugi and the others had been, for it was able to pick up the man's robes from the ground and pull them over his head.
The tall, thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry...
Harry felt himself pushing against the tombstone he was bound to, trying to get away from that face... the face that had haunted his nightmares for the past three years. It was whiter than a skull, with wide, sinister scarlet eyes and a nose that was as flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils...
Lord Voldemort had risen again...
~.oOOo.~
Hermione ran as fast as she could through the Quidditch stadium stands, tears stinging her eyes. She could hear the sounds of Aishisu and Yami Yugi trying to keep up behind her, but she paid them no heed. She was too intent on getting to the judge's box, which was where the teachers normally sat during a Quidditch game, and trying to ignore the images that kept trying to force their way into her mind. Images of a vile snake, once dead, suddenly coming to life and striking out at...
Oh, Gods. It was all her fault...
She finally pushed her way past the last of the crowd blocking her path to the judge's box. Looking up, she saw that Dumbledore seemed to be preoccupied with watching the task, but from the slight frown on his face, it looked like he already knew something was wrong.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione called up to get his attention, just as Aishisu and Yami Yugi finally caught up to her. "Something terrible has happened!"
Dumbledore turn his concerned gaze over to her, while Madame Maxime tsked in disapproval.
"'Ow could you even know zat someth'ng was wrong?" she demanded. Dumbledore, however, put a hand on her broad shoulder.
"Believe me, Olympe, if anyone were to know something was wrong, it would be her," he assured her.
Maxime still looked doubtful as Dumbledore stood up and raised his wand. Blue sparks shot out of it, and even from her vantage point, Hermione could see Professor McGonagall and Hagrid enter the maze. Professor Moody, the fourth of the teachers that had been assigned to patrol the outside of the maze in the event there was trouble, was nowhere that she could see.
"You three," Dumbledore said, nodding to Aishisu and Yami Yugi behind her. "Follow me."
Hermione, Aishisu, and Yami Yugi followed the headmaster out of the stands, just as the cheers from the crowd started to turn into curious murmurs. By the time they reached one of the outside entrances to the maze, an unnatural hush had fallen over the stadium, one that made Hermione's hair stand on end.
They were about to enter, when she saw Professor Flitwick standing next to Krum (who was sitting down) out of the corner of her eye. Hermione ran over to them, concerned about the way that Krum was acting. He was hugging his knees to his chest and his eyes were squeezed shut. She ran over to the two of them, kneeling beside the Bulgarian.
"What happened?" she asked.
"We found him stunned near the center of the maze," Flitwick answered.
Krum turned a bleary gaze toward her. "Hermy-own-ninny, it is all my fault," he said, his voice choked with tears he was trying not to shed. "I did someth'ng terrible... but I do not know how. I do not even know the vand movement..."
Hermione felt her breath freeze in her throat. Did he...?
A hand fell on her shoulder, and she turned slightly to see Yami Yugi standing above her. His expression was grim, but determined.
"Whatever has happened tonight," he said softly, "no one standing here should blame themselves for."
~.oOOo.~
They had arrived.
Harry felt a shudder course its way through his body, watching in mute horror as wizards seemed to appear from out of nowhere. They approached the Dark Lord reverently, as if they could hardly believe he was really standing before them. Then, they each bowed at his feet, kissing the hem of his robes before backing off and forming a circle that enclosed Voldemort, the grave he was tied to, and the still whimpering Pettigrew. The dark spirit was still around as well, hovering somewhere near his shoulder, sending chills down his spine as the creature shifted restlessly.
Voldemort began to speak to his gathered followers, and while Harry knew he should have paid attention to what he was saying in the event that he managed to escape. He just could not bring himself to do it, however. His eyes kept drifting back to where Marik was lying, his still body shrouded in the mists. There was no way he could be… no, he could not even think the word. Marik was alive… his best friend, one of the few people who had stuck with him no matter what... he HAD to be alive.
"Poor, pretty-pretty," the dark creature hissed in his ear. "Holding on to hope? Holding on to the fact that oré-sama's old hikari-pretty will save you?"
The faceless creature giggled sadistically as Harry's brain processed that information. Hikari... Yugi had told him once that "hikari" meant "light" and "yami" meant "darkness". Yugi, Seto, Ryou, and Hermione; they were called "hikaris" because theirs was the personality that was always present in the light of day. Panseru, the other Seto, Bakura, and Aishisu; they were called "yamis" because they hid in the shadows of the mind. As far as he knew, Marik was not supposed have a yami...
Was he?
"What are you?" Harry demanded, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. He got the feeling that if the spirit had a mouth, it had just broken out into a wide, sadistic grin.
"'Yami' itself," he hissed in answer. "More specifically, Marik no Yami."
~.oOOo.~
Something was definitely not right. Either he took a wrong turn on the way to Osiris' trial chamber, or someone was playing some kind of sick practical joke. He felt himself stir, and as he did so, also felt his spirit body ache in protest. That could not be right, though. If he was dead, how could he still be able to feel pain? Suddenly, there was a playful giggle from somewhere above him.
"Teacher-sama, he's waking up!" came a girl-like voice.
"Mana, please, if you crowd him any more, you're going to suffocate him," came a definitely masculine voice.
"Well it's not my fault he's taking forever to wake up!" Mana's voice came again, sounding like she was pouting. Then, he felt something jabbing him in the side. "C'mon, you desert slug! Wake up!"
"Mana...!" the man groaned.
The poking continued, however. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! Darkness is threatening to take over your friend and you're just lying around sleeping!"
Painfully, he reached a hand out, grabbing the finger that was poking him and cracking open an eye. He was lying down on... something, he could not tell what, looking up at a brown haired young woman with a youthful look to her face. She was wearing a strange sort of headband that rested over her errant hair, as well as a very short dress. The girl - Mana - smiled broadly, helping him sit up.
"It's about time!" she exclaimed. "I was starting to think we missed a piece of your soul or something. How are you feeling, Marik?"
Marik looked around blearily. It looked like they were in the middle of the desert; sand dunes dotted the landscape around them, and a gorgeous clear blue sky was above. Judging from what the girl had said... was this supposed to be his Soul Room? Looking beyond Mana, he saw that they were not the only ones there. An old man stood leaning on a golden cane, aloof from them, watching the exchange with slight interest. The other man, the one that had spoken before...
"You," Marik said. "I had a dream about you."
The man nodded, the points dangling from his shoulder ornaments glinting in the false sunlight. "I am Mahaado, one of Pharaoh Panseru's six priests and the leader of the Gravekeepers."
Marik could only stare in silent shock. This was the man that the tomb robber said he was descended from... but...
"How can you be here?" he asked. "What happened?"
"We managed to grab your soul just as it was about to leave your body," Mana said, indicating herself, Mahaado, and the old man.
Marik jumped to his feet. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he asked. "You said Harry-kun was in trouble. Why can't I just go back to my body and kick some ass?"
Mana giggled at his use of words, while Mahaado frowned slightly.
"It's... not that simple," he said.
Marik glared. "What do you mean it's not that simple!?" he demanded. "One of my best friends is in trouble, and you tell me I can't hurry to help him? What gives you that right?!"
"Your body is dead."
Marik looked up in surprise as the old man shuffled closer to where he was standing. Wizened eyes that seemed as if they could barely see anymore peered up at him, and a benevolent expression appeared on his face. Something glared in the Egyptian's eyes, and he backed up a bit, glancing down. Around the man's neck hung a small, golden sun pendant, which was reflecting the false sunlight from above.
"While we were able to easily save your soul," the old man continued, "we were unable to save your body without revealing ourselves, and that would have caused even more of a mess than what is going on now."
The old man turned and pointed his staff to the sky, swirling it about. A window of perception appeared in his Soul Room, showing what was going on in the graveyard in the real world. Marik watched in horror, as helpless as Harry was tied to that tombstone, as Voldemort walked amongst his followers, speaking to each of them, before coming to Pettigrew. Words were exchanged, before something silvery came out of the Dark Lord's wand and attached itself to the stump that the rat's hand had once been attached to. A new hand formed itself there, and Pettigrew stood up, marveling at it.
That was not the only thing going on in the scene that held Marik's attention. Next to Harry was a humanoid-shaped black THING... a thing that did not have a face...
He fell to his knees as the scene faded away, a defeated look on his face.
"So, that's it then," he muttered. "Voldemort's probably going to figure out some way to take Harry's soul away without harming his body, my Darkness will take over, and that'll be the end of everything before it even began."
He felt, more than saw, Mahaado kneel down next to him. The priest rested a hand on his shoulder encouragingly.
"You can't give up hope yet," he said.
Marik looked over at his hand... and frowned slightly when he saw that the gold cuff Mahaado had been wearing around his lower arm had turned into a purple one. He looked up at the priest fully… only to stumble backward in shock. He was now garbed in the robes and armor of the Black Magician. The only thing that was missing from the outfit was the hat, allowing the priest's bleach-blonde hair to spill freely over his shoulders. Marik glanced over his shoulder at Mana, only to see that she too had changed. Her hair had become blonde as well, and she was dressed in the blue and pink dress of the Black Magician Girl.
"Well..." Marik finally forced himself to say after a long moment. "At least now I know what the tomb robber meant when he said you were sleeping within Yugi's deck..."
Mahaado chuckled slightly, reaching out to where the Millennium Ring hung around Marik's chest. He lifted it up slightly, letting the points dangle down.
"The magic of protection from the Millennium Ring had been tainted by that tomb robber," he said. "But it seems that since you've had it, it has been able to purify itself, thanks to your innocent soul."
"When you can return to the real world again, you should be able to use its power to its fullest," Mana added, before winking. "As well as a little something special from the two of us."
Marik looked between the two of them, frowning slightly. "But... you just said that my body was dead. How can I go back if I don't have a body to go back to?"
"That is what we're waiting for."
Marik peered back up at the old man. A Black Magician... a Black Magician Girl... if that pendant was any indication, then the old man had to be...
Ra smiled benevolently. "We're waiting for a miracle from another God."
~.oOOo.~
"Crucio!"
Harry had never experienced such pain before in his life. He wanted to move against the pain, to try to get it all to stop, but he was bound so tightly to the tombstone that the only thing he could do was scream out his pain. Then, just as quickly as it had come, it vanished once again, leaving him hanging heavily against the cords the bound him, gasping desperately for breath. He glared up at the pale face of Voldemort, shuddering slightly at the murderous look in his red eyes. The dark creature had moved from his position behind Harry, and was now leaning casually against the cauldron.
"Oui," Marik no Yami commented idly, "don't damage pretty-pretty's body too much, eh? Oré-sama does not want to have to enter a weak body."
Voldemort gave the dark spirit a casual glace. "I assure you, my dark friend," he said, "you will receive your just reward for assisting me."
One of the Death Eaters that had gathered stepped forward. "My lord..." came Lucius Malfoy's voice, "please tell us... what exactly is that... CREATURE... and what is his purpose?"
Voldemort smirked, before reaching over to rest a hand on Marik no Yami's shoulder. The dark spirit turned slightly to look at Malfoy. Though he had no face, it seemed as if he was giving the Death Eater a wicked smile that was terrifying enough to make him step back.
"As you all well know," Voldemort began, "I encountered a slight... problem four years ago. That problem was an ancient power I had never heard of before; it was so strong that it left me unfathomably weak. I drifted in and out between this realm and another... and realm of shadows. That was where I met this creature of darkness. He told me a fascinating story of a spirit of a pharaoh with no memory, of tomb robbers and priests of the ancient days of Egypt... of cards so powerful that they could grant the world to whomever controlled all three of them. Of course, I was a bit skeptical at first, but I knew a creature of pure darkness could not lie, so I pulled him out of that dark realm with me. And then, who should come to be but none other than Wormtail, holding this in his ratty paws."
Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out a Duel Monsters card. It was unlike any card he had ever seen, however. It was clearly a monster card, but instead of the yellow, brown, purple, or blue boarders of the normal, effect, fusion, and ritual monsters he knew of, the boarder for this card was jet black. The picture was indescribable; it seemed to be a snake - as the monster was nothing more than the long body of such a creature - yet it had the head of a Chinese dragon. Though Harry could not make out any kind of effect or attack and defense information in the darkness, he was able to see the name of the card easily enough. It was printed in English, and the words seemed to burn themselves into the minds of all who looked upon it.
Sinister Serpent, the God of Set.
That thing was a GOD CARD.
"This card signaled the rebirth of a God," Voldemort continued his narrative, returning the God Card to its hiding place. "A little bit of digging revealed everything else I needed to know... 'Should the nameless pharaoh choose to live on in this life, then the ancient wars will be renewed and chaos will return to the world. Two of the old Gods will be revived, one to oppose all. On the day of fate, in the hour of destiny, seven Chosen Ones, with the aid of the four Gods, will stand before the un-Chosen, who wields the power of the Stinking Head. The seven Chosen will fight bravely, but in the end they will fall. If these images remain unchanged, then everything will return to the beginning... a thousand years to infinity... a thousand times to repeat forevermore.'"
Harry's mouth hung open in shock. Except for the first part, that was Aishisu's prophesy from last year... but how could he have known about it? Pettigrew had gone into hiding long before the day in Divination, so he could not have learned it from him. Then how...?
Harry was forced out of his thoughts, as Voldemort was stalking toward him, that murderous gleam back in his eyes.
"I will change these images," he said, "because I will take the other revived God, and make sure it will never be used against me!"
He did not know what happened next. One moment, Harry heard Voldemort utter something in another language, the next minute his body was exploding with a white-hot pain that put the Cruciatus Curse to shame. He wanted to scream, but he did not have the voice to express just how painful it was. It felt like his very soul was being torn in half, and he would give anything for that excruciating pain to stop...
~~Don't give up yet!~~
The voice rang clear in his head, and before he knew it, Harry could not feel the pain anymore. A strange feeling came over him, like he was in two places at once. With his own eyes, he could see Voldemort's sinister face, yet his mind's eye showed him a completely different picture. He saw a boy, who could not be any older than eight, dressed in nothing more than a strange sort of kilt with a billowing cape of golden-red feathers drifting out behind him.
~~Please,~~ the boy said in his mind. ~~I'll lend you some of my power to fight him off, but please don't let him take me away. I'm not ready to come to this world again just yet!~~
It was like a miniature explosion, though Harry could not see it, and was not even aware of it for that matter. Holy light pierced through the sky, turning the night into day and forcing Voldemort and his followers to back away. The light was a prayer, soft and gentle; a plea for something, anything, to help them escape capture and death. After a moment, the holy power dimmed somewhat, giving everyone present a view of an unexpected - and to a certain dark spirit, unwelcome - sight. A symbol had appeared on Harry's forehead, and it seemed to be the very source of the light...
The Eye of the Wisdom of Darkness...
"Stop him!" Marik no Yami shrieked.
A sudden sting hit Harry's cheek, snapping him out of whatever it was that had happened to him, the light fading away along with it. He looked up, dazed, to see Voldemort standing before him, fuming in rage.
"It seems I'll have to break you before destroying you," he hissed, clearly not pleased. "Wormtail, fetch his wand."
Pettigrew left the circle of Death Eaters, going over to where Marik's body still lay - Harry vaguely remembered dropping his wand when he had fallen the first time. There was a long stretch of silence… before there was a bell-like tinkling, followed by Pettigrew screaming in absolute terror. Voldemort turned just in time to see him smack painfully against a nearby gravestone, nearly toppling it over. The dark spirit next to him hissed, backing away as a figure rose up from the mists, a something glowing brightly against their chest.
"I don't like it when people try to kill me!"
Harry raised his head, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Was it really…? Could it really be…?
"And I especially don't like it," Marik continued, the Millennium Ring flaring in an expression of his anger, "when people try to kill my friends too!"