Chapter Four: Wakenings
Bakura woke early the next morning to the blaring of trumpets. Prying his sleepy eyes open, he noticed the sun hadn't risen yet. He started to stand up but stopped as he felt a weight on his leg.
Yami moaned and curled up into a ball. Bakura stared in wonder at Yami's antics, but another round of trumpet calls brought him back to attention. He lifted Yami's head mindfully off of his leg and onto the sand. Yami whimpered, yet he remained asleep.
Standing up, Bakura searched the dark horizon for the source of the noise. To the east, a large cloud of dust rose high into the sky; reflecting the early morning light. Listening closely, Bakura could hear the snorts of horses and the angry shouts of men. The Syrians had followed them.
Bakura roughly sent his whistle across the desert sand and rushed to wake Yami. Shaking him crudely by the shoulders, Bakura hauled Yami to his feet. Yami glared at Bakura in bewilderment.
"Bakura,.....What's going on?" he asked, a yawn slurring his words.
"It would seem the Syrians followed us from Thebes. We have to leave now or they'll catch.....us," Bakura explained, hesitating at the decision of using 'us' or 'you'. Yami nodded tiredly as the same horse from before clattered to a halt in front of them.
Bakura mounted and reached down to help Yami climb on. Once Yami was up and comfortable sitting behind him, the horse took off across the sand.
Yami, not expecting the sudden jolt, threw his arms around Bakura and left them there. Bakura was surprised, but let it pass.
The Syrians had seen them escape and had swiftly changed their course. They were gaining fast. Bakura's horse, being weighed down by two, had a disadvantage in speed. Yami glanced back and gave a yelp of urgency.
The thief tried to urge the horse to go faster, but couldn't pick up the pace. The soldiers had reached the horse's flank and eager arms reached out to tear Yami from the back of the horse.
Yami clung desperately to Bakura's robes. Syrian hands had latched themselves to Yami's silk clothing. Yami was losing his grip.
In the blink of an eye, the Syrians managed to wretch Yami away from Bakura and pull him to the ground. They surrounded him completely, leaving him helpless.
Bakura, having felt Yami slide off the horse behind him, turned and galloped towards the huddling group of Syrians in one rapid motion. A well- placed arrow caught him below the heart and he fell. Landing on the sand, he fell unconscious.
Yami saw Bakura fall and gave a weak struggle to get towards him. His captors pulled the rope binding his arms, causing him to crash back to the ground. Bakura was then blocked from his view as a blindfold slide over his eyes.
Yami could feel himself being thrown into some sort of chariot. He felt Bakura land beside him and a driver step in between them. A whip snarled in the air and a lurch announce their departure.
The day passed and the chariot continues to bounce across the sand at high speed. Finally it slowed and shouts could be heard from every side. The chariot stopped completely and Yami was pulled to his feet. The crowds erupted as he was pushed rudely from the chariot. A spear point was pushed warningly into his back. The driver shoved him in a general direction, ordering him to walk. Yami heard an 'umph' from the man behind him and assumed Bakura had been lifted onto his shoulder.
Somewhere along the march, Yami lost consciousness and collapsed to the rough street. He was heaved onto one of the other guard's shoulder and carried the rest of the way. He was brought down a number of flights of stairs into a dank dungeon. The air smelled of rotting flesh. Yami was thrown into a cell and left for the remainder of the day.
Set heard excited shouts coming down the dungeon corridor; they must have ordered an execution. Moving to the small barred window in the door of the cell, he glanced both ways down the hall to see what the shouts were about. What he saw was something he had never expected.
It was Atemu, the king's only son. A large, bloodstained bandage covered his upper leg, expertly wrapped. Why would the Syrians care about their greatest enemy?
The answer to his wondering came down the passage with another guard. Bakura, the most wanted and hated man in Egypt was hanging limply on the shoulder of a tall guard, an arrow protruding from his side. Set heard the guards talking among themselves as they recklessly tossed him in the same cell as Atemu.
"I heard that the pale haired one was actually trying to protect that pitiful excuse of a prince. Can you believe that? An outcast like him protecting royalty?!" one exclaimed.
"That must be why they were so easy to catch. You'd think people would learn that you can't run away from Syrians, not matter how fast your steed is," another chuckled. The groups of guards walked off laughing.
Set returned to his vulgar bed to think. He didn't get long, the door clicked open; bringing Set back to reality. He looked up to find himself staring up at the High Vizier, Damon.
"So, he has more potential than our entire country, does he? The why was he so easy to capture?" Damon sneered.
Set remained silent, not trusting himself to speak. Damon spoke again in his place.
"Tomorrow you will have the privilege of seeing your precious prince hanged along with his 'guardian', this Bakura. I'm utterly excited, aren't you?" Damon laughed and left Set to his pondering.
Set remained on his bed and was, for once in his life, terrified of the coming day.
The sun rose red in the morning and the silhouettes of two nooses could be seen against the light. Hushed excitement ran feverishly through the gathering crowds.
Bakura was led out first, conscious and very disgruntled. The arrow had been ripped out, but the wound had not been covered, causing him more pain. Yami came next, loud cheers rose in the masses. The blindfold still covered his eyes; his arms remained tied.
The shouts rose to the level of a dim roar as the two Egyptians were led to separate platforms. Noose were shoved around both of their heads and pulled tight. The bonds holding Yami's arms were released and his blindfold was removed, revealing his face to the crowd of people. An avalanche of various rotten fruits and vegetables cascaded down upon them.
Yami quivered with fear. His knees felt weak and his vision was unclear. Turning his head sideways, Yami watched as Bakura struggled against the noose. The noose won and Bakura let his head hang in defeat.
'It's all my fault,' Yami supposed. 'It's my fault he's there. If I hadn't been so weak, he wouldn't have had to care for me.' Yami let his head fall in a similar fashion to Bakura, refusing to watch his only known friend died because of him.
The noise level in the crowds rose significantly and Yami lifted his head out of curiosity. His eyes met Bakura's, full of confidence and defiance. There was no fear present as of yet.
The wood beneath Bakura's feet suddenly moved away from him. Bakura let out a strangled yelp and started to drop. Yami watched the scene in slow motion.
At the sight of new fear in Bakura's eyes, Yami felt tears running down his face. They continued to fall as Yami felt something become alive inside his soul. Something was waking inside him.
A scream torn from Yami's lips; its origin unknown to even Yami. He felt a surge of energy flow through him, following the mysterious scream. Opening his clamped eyes, he saw a bright blue light surrounding Bakura's unconscious body.
Like Yami, the people were utterly in awe at the sight. The ropes binding both Bakura and Yami unwrapped from their necks and dropped into a perfect coil at their feet.
The aura of light around Bakura faded, leaving him lying unconscious on the wooden planks. No one stopped Yami as he jumped from his own platform and climbing onto Bakura's.
"Bakura? Bakura, are you okay?" Yami whispered, afraid of some of the outcomes. Bakura's eyes remained shut, but his breathing had returned to its normal pace.
Dias: Because I feel nice today, I decided to post two chapters on the same day.
Dark Dias: Also because you're bored.
Dias: What on earth am I going to do with you? Oh well, I'll figure that out later. My one-year anniversary as a writer on Fanfiction is coming closer; it's the 17th of March. So I might have a large batch of chapters to post. But only maybe. I don't know if I'll have time to type them!
Dark Dias: You're ranting you know.
Dias: Fine. Please leave a review by clicking that nice purple button on the bottom of the screen. Thank you so much for taking time to read my story.....
Dark Dias: You're ranting again. So I'm going to close this window before you can start again. Bye everyone!
Bakura woke early the next morning to the blaring of trumpets. Prying his sleepy eyes open, he noticed the sun hadn't risen yet. He started to stand up but stopped as he felt a weight on his leg.
Yami moaned and curled up into a ball. Bakura stared in wonder at Yami's antics, but another round of trumpet calls brought him back to attention. He lifted Yami's head mindfully off of his leg and onto the sand. Yami whimpered, yet he remained asleep.
Standing up, Bakura searched the dark horizon for the source of the noise. To the east, a large cloud of dust rose high into the sky; reflecting the early morning light. Listening closely, Bakura could hear the snorts of horses and the angry shouts of men. The Syrians had followed them.
Bakura roughly sent his whistle across the desert sand and rushed to wake Yami. Shaking him crudely by the shoulders, Bakura hauled Yami to his feet. Yami glared at Bakura in bewilderment.
"Bakura,.....What's going on?" he asked, a yawn slurring his words.
"It would seem the Syrians followed us from Thebes. We have to leave now or they'll catch.....us," Bakura explained, hesitating at the decision of using 'us' or 'you'. Yami nodded tiredly as the same horse from before clattered to a halt in front of them.
Bakura mounted and reached down to help Yami climb on. Once Yami was up and comfortable sitting behind him, the horse took off across the sand.
Yami, not expecting the sudden jolt, threw his arms around Bakura and left them there. Bakura was surprised, but let it pass.
The Syrians had seen them escape and had swiftly changed their course. They were gaining fast. Bakura's horse, being weighed down by two, had a disadvantage in speed. Yami glanced back and gave a yelp of urgency.
The thief tried to urge the horse to go faster, but couldn't pick up the pace. The soldiers had reached the horse's flank and eager arms reached out to tear Yami from the back of the horse.
Yami clung desperately to Bakura's robes. Syrian hands had latched themselves to Yami's silk clothing. Yami was losing his grip.
In the blink of an eye, the Syrians managed to wretch Yami away from Bakura and pull him to the ground. They surrounded him completely, leaving him helpless.
Bakura, having felt Yami slide off the horse behind him, turned and galloped towards the huddling group of Syrians in one rapid motion. A well- placed arrow caught him below the heart and he fell. Landing on the sand, he fell unconscious.
Yami saw Bakura fall and gave a weak struggle to get towards him. His captors pulled the rope binding his arms, causing him to crash back to the ground. Bakura was then blocked from his view as a blindfold slide over his eyes.
Yami could feel himself being thrown into some sort of chariot. He felt Bakura land beside him and a driver step in between them. A whip snarled in the air and a lurch announce their departure.
The day passed and the chariot continues to bounce across the sand at high speed. Finally it slowed and shouts could be heard from every side. The chariot stopped completely and Yami was pulled to his feet. The crowds erupted as he was pushed rudely from the chariot. A spear point was pushed warningly into his back. The driver shoved him in a general direction, ordering him to walk. Yami heard an 'umph' from the man behind him and assumed Bakura had been lifted onto his shoulder.
Somewhere along the march, Yami lost consciousness and collapsed to the rough street. He was heaved onto one of the other guard's shoulder and carried the rest of the way. He was brought down a number of flights of stairs into a dank dungeon. The air smelled of rotting flesh. Yami was thrown into a cell and left for the remainder of the day.
Set heard excited shouts coming down the dungeon corridor; they must have ordered an execution. Moving to the small barred window in the door of the cell, he glanced both ways down the hall to see what the shouts were about. What he saw was something he had never expected.
It was Atemu, the king's only son. A large, bloodstained bandage covered his upper leg, expertly wrapped. Why would the Syrians care about their greatest enemy?
The answer to his wondering came down the passage with another guard. Bakura, the most wanted and hated man in Egypt was hanging limply on the shoulder of a tall guard, an arrow protruding from his side. Set heard the guards talking among themselves as they recklessly tossed him in the same cell as Atemu.
"I heard that the pale haired one was actually trying to protect that pitiful excuse of a prince. Can you believe that? An outcast like him protecting royalty?!" one exclaimed.
"That must be why they were so easy to catch. You'd think people would learn that you can't run away from Syrians, not matter how fast your steed is," another chuckled. The groups of guards walked off laughing.
Set returned to his vulgar bed to think. He didn't get long, the door clicked open; bringing Set back to reality. He looked up to find himself staring up at the High Vizier, Damon.
"So, he has more potential than our entire country, does he? The why was he so easy to capture?" Damon sneered.
Set remained silent, not trusting himself to speak. Damon spoke again in his place.
"Tomorrow you will have the privilege of seeing your precious prince hanged along with his 'guardian', this Bakura. I'm utterly excited, aren't you?" Damon laughed and left Set to his pondering.
Set remained on his bed and was, for once in his life, terrified of the coming day.
The sun rose red in the morning and the silhouettes of two nooses could be seen against the light. Hushed excitement ran feverishly through the gathering crowds.
Bakura was led out first, conscious and very disgruntled. The arrow had been ripped out, but the wound had not been covered, causing him more pain. Yami came next, loud cheers rose in the masses. The blindfold still covered his eyes; his arms remained tied.
The shouts rose to the level of a dim roar as the two Egyptians were led to separate platforms. Noose were shoved around both of their heads and pulled tight. The bonds holding Yami's arms were released and his blindfold was removed, revealing his face to the crowd of people. An avalanche of various rotten fruits and vegetables cascaded down upon them.
Yami quivered with fear. His knees felt weak and his vision was unclear. Turning his head sideways, Yami watched as Bakura struggled against the noose. The noose won and Bakura let his head hang in defeat.
'It's all my fault,' Yami supposed. 'It's my fault he's there. If I hadn't been so weak, he wouldn't have had to care for me.' Yami let his head fall in a similar fashion to Bakura, refusing to watch his only known friend died because of him.
The noise level in the crowds rose significantly and Yami lifted his head out of curiosity. His eyes met Bakura's, full of confidence and defiance. There was no fear present as of yet.
The wood beneath Bakura's feet suddenly moved away from him. Bakura let out a strangled yelp and started to drop. Yami watched the scene in slow motion.
At the sight of new fear in Bakura's eyes, Yami felt tears running down his face. They continued to fall as Yami felt something become alive inside his soul. Something was waking inside him.
A scream torn from Yami's lips; its origin unknown to even Yami. He felt a surge of energy flow through him, following the mysterious scream. Opening his clamped eyes, he saw a bright blue light surrounding Bakura's unconscious body.
Like Yami, the people were utterly in awe at the sight. The ropes binding both Bakura and Yami unwrapped from their necks and dropped into a perfect coil at their feet.
The aura of light around Bakura faded, leaving him lying unconscious on the wooden planks. No one stopped Yami as he jumped from his own platform and climbing onto Bakura's.
"Bakura? Bakura, are you okay?" Yami whispered, afraid of some of the outcomes. Bakura's eyes remained shut, but his breathing had returned to its normal pace.
Dias: Because I feel nice today, I decided to post two chapters on the same day.
Dark Dias: Also because you're bored.
Dias: What on earth am I going to do with you? Oh well, I'll figure that out later. My one-year anniversary as a writer on Fanfiction is coming closer; it's the 17th of March. So I might have a large batch of chapters to post. But only maybe. I don't know if I'll have time to type them!
Dark Dias: You're ranting you know.
Dias: Fine. Please leave a review by clicking that nice purple button on the bottom of the screen. Thank you so much for taking time to read my story.....
Dark Dias: You're ranting again. So I'm going to close this window before you can start again. Bye everyone!