Chapter Two: Split
"Bakura! Please stop! It hurts to run!" Yami cried desperately, trying to slow Bakura down. But Bakura wouldn't relent his high speed. Yami tried to stay on his feet as Bakura pulled him through the collapsed hallways. He wasn't successful.
"Yami! Come on! We don't have time to slow down!" Bakura screamed at him, pushing himself off the ground.
"I'm sorry, but I....." Yami started.
"No excuses. Now come on, and keep up!" Bakura snapped, darting off through the rubble. Yami forced himself to his feet and ran after Bakura.
As they reached the outer court of the palace, Yami lost sight of Bakura.
After a while of looking and shouting, Yami sat down on a crumbled pillar. As he sat, a pain shot through his thigh. In all the excitement, he had failed to notice the large gash on the back of his leg. A steady flow of crimson blood ran onto the stone pillar.
He quickly flipped through his scattered memories for information about healing. He came across an old rule.
'The healer can never be healed by himself. Help must be sought from a different healer.'
A cold wind passed Yami and he curled up on the pillar. The breeze kept blowing and he sighed. Was this how it was going to be? Had Bakura deserted him?
Yami fell into a fitful sleep A single crystalline tear slipped from his clamped eye and rolled down his cheek to fall on to the stone below.
Bakura continued to run, ignoring Yami's complaints. Eventually Yami's voice stopped calling out. His thoughts drifted from the expensive jewelry in his pouch to Yami. He had found a boy in the remains of the palace. That boy had no memory whatsoever, but he managed to wield shadow magic, show fine clothing and possess many fine jewels. Yami was certainly an object of mystery. There was something that didn't seem.....common.....about Yami.
His feet, by this time, had led him to the edge of the city, to where the rough, fallen walls gave way to the mighty desert. The wind whipped Bakura's hair around, but he didn't mind. His mind was still on Yami.
He glanced back and noticed the boy wasn't following him. He was nowhere to be seen.
'He must have fallen behind. He would be extremely useful on raids if he could only keep up. But I guess I can't give up on him.' Bakura thought, sitting down on a large boulder.
As he sat there; facing the desert wind and letting it throw his hair about, the sun rose bringing bad luck. An outpost of Syrian soldiers was mounted at the top of the closest sand dune, watching the city's remnants. Bakura saw larger groups of soldiers riding into the city. Bakura was caught off guard as a small group of troops spotted him and trapped him from behind. Holding him to prevent him from escaping; they brought him to their general.
The general was a tall, thickset man with a harsh stubble beard growing on his chin. As Bakura was thrown in front of him, he remained mounted on his horse.
"So, you escaped the slave takers, did you? Well, it didn't do you much good." The soldiers gathered around them laughed.
"I'm looking for a boy. The son of the king, to be exact. Do you know where I could possibly find him?" the general mocked.
"No one has ever been allowed to go near the Prince except the tutors the king trusted," Bakura replied, trying to bore holes in the general's skull.
"Maybe you've seen him around. According to our more than eager.....sources.....he's about five and a half feet tall with red and black spiked hair. He also has blond streaks; shooting upwards in the shape of lightning. It would appear to me that someone with those looks wouldn't go unnoticed in a crowd, now would he?" the general explained; mocking Bakura again.
Bakura was paranoid. Could the boy be found in the palace actually be the High Prince of Egypt? It would explain the jewels, clothing and knowledge. The shadow magic was still a mystery though. The royal family hadn't been able to control it for centuries; why now? And how was he left behind when Egypt was plundered?
His shock obviously didn't show because the general let out an irritated grunt and turned to walk away.
"What are you going to do with him if you find him?" Bakura asked, trying to conceal his desperate worries.
"Kill him of course. What else could we do with him?" the general chuckled. "But since you haven't seen him, you're of no more use to us. Kill him," He commanded casually to the men surrounding them.
Bakura lunged at the soldiers, hoping to escape before they could sustain him. The soldiers pushed Bakura to the ground and held his arms behind his back. Bakura continued to struggle and, as a reward, was knock unconscious by a loose timber.
The sun was starting to head towards the western horizon when Bakura woke. Bakura's head throbbed where he had been struck, but he could not move to soothe it. He had been hung by his arms on a piece of lumber that jutted out from one of the less destroyed buildings.
Seeing that he was awake, one of the Syrian guards on the ground around him shouted for their general; Bakura was unaware of this. As the general leisurely strode over to where he was, Bakura was looking at the wrecked city of Thebes.
The view scared Bakura. Everywhere he could see, from the banks of the Nile to the palace courtyard, Syrian soldiers were overturning stones and breaking through fallen structures.
'Probably looking for Yami,' he supposed, bitterness edging his thoughts. 'If they find him, he will die because of me. Because I left him behind.'
The general stopped below where Bakura was hanging. He cleared his throat, attracting part of Bakura's attention.
"While you where.....sleeping.....I had one of my more talented men take a look inside that Egyptian head of yours, to see if you were lying. As it turns out, you were. We saw an image that was very self-explanatory in your recent memory. It was a picture of someone you refer to as 'Yami'."
Bakura could feel his stomach churn and tie itself into knots. They had had someone shift through his thoughts? His memories?
"It would appear to me that this 'Yami' bears a striking resemblance to the Prince we described yesterday. You will now explain why you lied to me," the general hissed, his anger rising. Bakura remained silent; the majority of his attention on the knot binding his hands together and his hands to the broken shaft above him.
The knot suddenly pulled loose, untying from around Bakura's hand as the general waited for his answer. Bakura fell, landing directly on top of a very surprised general.
Before the general had any time to regain his composure, Bakura leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the crumbled palace. His feet carried him past many familiar signs and place along the streets. Many times, Bakura had to jump out of site as a band of soldiers trotted down the narrow roads.
Bakura had reached the palace's out courtyard when he saw something among the fallen pillars. It was a foot.
He rushed over, hoping his conscience was right. It was. The foot belonged to Yami.
Bakura flipped Yami over and found him unconscious. His face was pale; it was cold and clammy in Bakura's hands. He wasn't breathing.
Dark Dias: And so ends another chapter. As with many to come it is a cliffy. Don't you just love those?
Dias: Humph. These chapters are going to take a hell of a lot of time to type. I'm not going to put the next one up until I get five different reviews. Or until I feel like it. So read, review and tell other readers about it. Thanks!
"Bakura! Please stop! It hurts to run!" Yami cried desperately, trying to slow Bakura down. But Bakura wouldn't relent his high speed. Yami tried to stay on his feet as Bakura pulled him through the collapsed hallways. He wasn't successful.
"Yami! Come on! We don't have time to slow down!" Bakura screamed at him, pushing himself off the ground.
"I'm sorry, but I....." Yami started.
"No excuses. Now come on, and keep up!" Bakura snapped, darting off through the rubble. Yami forced himself to his feet and ran after Bakura.
As they reached the outer court of the palace, Yami lost sight of Bakura.
After a while of looking and shouting, Yami sat down on a crumbled pillar. As he sat, a pain shot through his thigh. In all the excitement, he had failed to notice the large gash on the back of his leg. A steady flow of crimson blood ran onto the stone pillar.
He quickly flipped through his scattered memories for information about healing. He came across an old rule.
'The healer can never be healed by himself. Help must be sought from a different healer.'
A cold wind passed Yami and he curled up on the pillar. The breeze kept blowing and he sighed. Was this how it was going to be? Had Bakura deserted him?
Yami fell into a fitful sleep A single crystalline tear slipped from his clamped eye and rolled down his cheek to fall on to the stone below.
Bakura continued to run, ignoring Yami's complaints. Eventually Yami's voice stopped calling out. His thoughts drifted from the expensive jewelry in his pouch to Yami. He had found a boy in the remains of the palace. That boy had no memory whatsoever, but he managed to wield shadow magic, show fine clothing and possess many fine jewels. Yami was certainly an object of mystery. There was something that didn't seem.....common.....about Yami.
His feet, by this time, had led him to the edge of the city, to where the rough, fallen walls gave way to the mighty desert. The wind whipped Bakura's hair around, but he didn't mind. His mind was still on Yami.
He glanced back and noticed the boy wasn't following him. He was nowhere to be seen.
'He must have fallen behind. He would be extremely useful on raids if he could only keep up. But I guess I can't give up on him.' Bakura thought, sitting down on a large boulder.
As he sat there; facing the desert wind and letting it throw his hair about, the sun rose bringing bad luck. An outpost of Syrian soldiers was mounted at the top of the closest sand dune, watching the city's remnants. Bakura saw larger groups of soldiers riding into the city. Bakura was caught off guard as a small group of troops spotted him and trapped him from behind. Holding him to prevent him from escaping; they brought him to their general.
The general was a tall, thickset man with a harsh stubble beard growing on his chin. As Bakura was thrown in front of him, he remained mounted on his horse.
"So, you escaped the slave takers, did you? Well, it didn't do you much good." The soldiers gathered around them laughed.
"I'm looking for a boy. The son of the king, to be exact. Do you know where I could possibly find him?" the general mocked.
"No one has ever been allowed to go near the Prince except the tutors the king trusted," Bakura replied, trying to bore holes in the general's skull.
"Maybe you've seen him around. According to our more than eager.....sources.....he's about five and a half feet tall with red and black spiked hair. He also has blond streaks; shooting upwards in the shape of lightning. It would appear to me that someone with those looks wouldn't go unnoticed in a crowd, now would he?" the general explained; mocking Bakura again.
Bakura was paranoid. Could the boy be found in the palace actually be the High Prince of Egypt? It would explain the jewels, clothing and knowledge. The shadow magic was still a mystery though. The royal family hadn't been able to control it for centuries; why now? And how was he left behind when Egypt was plundered?
His shock obviously didn't show because the general let out an irritated grunt and turned to walk away.
"What are you going to do with him if you find him?" Bakura asked, trying to conceal his desperate worries.
"Kill him of course. What else could we do with him?" the general chuckled. "But since you haven't seen him, you're of no more use to us. Kill him," He commanded casually to the men surrounding them.
Bakura lunged at the soldiers, hoping to escape before they could sustain him. The soldiers pushed Bakura to the ground and held his arms behind his back. Bakura continued to struggle and, as a reward, was knock unconscious by a loose timber.
The sun was starting to head towards the western horizon when Bakura woke. Bakura's head throbbed where he had been struck, but he could not move to soothe it. He had been hung by his arms on a piece of lumber that jutted out from one of the less destroyed buildings.
Seeing that he was awake, one of the Syrian guards on the ground around him shouted for their general; Bakura was unaware of this. As the general leisurely strode over to where he was, Bakura was looking at the wrecked city of Thebes.
The view scared Bakura. Everywhere he could see, from the banks of the Nile to the palace courtyard, Syrian soldiers were overturning stones and breaking through fallen structures.
'Probably looking for Yami,' he supposed, bitterness edging his thoughts. 'If they find him, he will die because of me. Because I left him behind.'
The general stopped below where Bakura was hanging. He cleared his throat, attracting part of Bakura's attention.
"While you where.....sleeping.....I had one of my more talented men take a look inside that Egyptian head of yours, to see if you were lying. As it turns out, you were. We saw an image that was very self-explanatory in your recent memory. It was a picture of someone you refer to as 'Yami'."
Bakura could feel his stomach churn and tie itself into knots. They had had someone shift through his thoughts? His memories?
"It would appear to me that this 'Yami' bears a striking resemblance to the Prince we described yesterday. You will now explain why you lied to me," the general hissed, his anger rising. Bakura remained silent; the majority of his attention on the knot binding his hands together and his hands to the broken shaft above him.
The knot suddenly pulled loose, untying from around Bakura's hand as the general waited for his answer. Bakura fell, landing directly on top of a very surprised general.
Before the general had any time to regain his composure, Bakura leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the crumbled palace. His feet carried him past many familiar signs and place along the streets. Many times, Bakura had to jump out of site as a band of soldiers trotted down the narrow roads.
Bakura had reached the palace's out courtyard when he saw something among the fallen pillars. It was a foot.
He rushed over, hoping his conscience was right. It was. The foot belonged to Yami.
Bakura flipped Yami over and found him unconscious. His face was pale; it was cold and clammy in Bakura's hands. He wasn't breathing.
Dark Dias: And so ends another chapter. As with many to come it is a cliffy. Don't you just love those?
Dias: Humph. These chapters are going to take a hell of a lot of time to type. I'm not going to put the next one up until I get five different reviews. Or until I feel like it. So read, review and tell other readers about it. Thanks!