WSJ: [cursing fervently in Egyptian and stomping around her room. The three muses that she kidnapped from Ebony Kuroneko to go to Mexico with her are sitting around with Bakura and sweatdropping. Skank is curled up like a cat with his tail over his nose, apparently asleep. The four plot bunnies are lounging with the muses]
Sekil: [raises an eyebrow] What's her problem?
Bakura: [chuckles] She bought a whole box of YGO cards down in Mexico for two dollars, and she's just figured out they're bootlegs.
Sekil: [blink] What? How does she know?
Bakura: They don't have the little holographic Eye of Horus square in the bottom corner.
Sekil: Ooooh. Tough cookies, SJ.
Nozomi: [grouchily chugging coffee] You might have known, SJ. No one would be crazy enough to sell a promo Winged Dragon of Ra box for two bucks.
WSJ: [whine] But it had Ishtar on the box! I couldn't just leave it there!
Naosu: [giggles] You're funny, loff.
WSJ: There are sooo many good cards in there!! [looks distressed] There's a Needle Wall card! My favorite trap ever! And a Gravekeeper's Spear Soldier! And a Luster Dragon! It's not faaaaaiiiiiiir...
Bakura & Sekil: [are finding this very amusing]
Nozomi: [ignores her whining and goes to look for more coffee]
Naosu: [sweatdrop] Not loff...
WSJ: Eh heh... Right. On to the fic! No idea how long this will be, but it promises to be huge. =D Maybe even as big as the snowstorm chapter!
Bakura: Oh Ra, deliver me from this evil... [gets whacked]
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO. Amoura is Brood Mayran's. Sekil, Arca, and Lark (as well as Naosu) are Ebony Kuroneko's. (Nozomi is HCG's) You should get the idea by now. ;) However, I do claim Jonathon, the Elementals, Shahi, Ammâh, and a couple other OCs.
Pocky is a kind of Japanese snackfood. It's kinda sorta like an American Kitkat, except it can come in different flavors.
[looks sympathetically at the poor, innocent souls who don't know the joys of the ITS] A thespian is basically a high school actor or actress. It's a "club", if you will, the International Thespian Society. Loads of fun. Lots of acting. Many conferences and meeting of new people (or old friends). [grins and high-fives Myotismon13 and Brood Mayran]
[looks around furtively and then darts over to put her hands over NeoChaosCrystal's mouth] Shhhh! You're not supposed to be that observant! [sweatdrop]
Note: Okay, this could get a bit confusing. We're going to have a song-fic within a song-fic, so to speak. That is, one song starts, then the other one starts and finishes, and then the first one finishes. Therefore, lyrics in italics are from "Into the West", by Annie Lennox. Lyrics in italics and bold are from "All I Ever Wanted", by Amick Byram. I own neither one. Obviously.
Muse-ic of the Moment: Loreena McKennitt-sama!! [hums "The Old Ways" and "All Souls Night" under her breath]
Vocabulary:
Ammâh - Hebrew - mother
Abba - Hebrew - father
Abu - Arabic & Egyptian - father
Musume - Japanese - daughter
Meri - Egyptian - beloved
()()()()()
Home Sweet Home
Chapter 15 - Blood on Sand: Revelation of the Past!
Quote of the Fic:
"Life without pain isn't
real, how do I know, because it's the truth, and the truth hurts."
(Isamu Dyson - Macross Plus)
For Ebony,
Who wouldn't let me stop
until I was done.
The instant they stepped off the plane, Yami and Bakura knew they were home. The air was hot and dry, the men in their robes and turbans were speaking their native tongue (well, mostly, at any rate) [1]. Outside the windows were rolling hills of sand.
Egypt, at long last.
For nearly the first time in five thousand years of life, Yami was struck speechless as he stepped outside the airport in Cairo. Bakura, too, was silent at the awesome sight of the majestic Pyramids of Giza, rising from the sand just a few miles away.
Shen snorted. "What, you're Egyptians yet you've never seen the Giza Plateau before?"
Ryou frowned and elbowed his father in the side. "Shush, tou-san. They were born four hundred miles south of here. No wonder they've never seen Giza."
"We've heard of it," Bakura said quietly. "Tales of great mountains in the north, built by our ancestors. But we've never had the fortune to see them before..."
"I wish we had the time to visit them..." Yami said, the longing clearly evident in his voice.
Isis smiled and glanced at Shen, who shrugged. "I don't see why we can't," she said. "It shouldn't take more than a day. Shaadi and the others have waited this long to get the problems with Mahaado resolved so they can get into the tomb, a little longer won't hurt them. We'll go see the pyramids today, stay at Shepherd's tonight, and head back to the dig tomorrow morning."
"Thank you," Yami said, smiling gratefully and bowing to her. "Thank you very much." Bakura nodded his thanks as well, and Shen grinned.
"Well, we'd better get going then. ....Isis? Do you remember where we parked?"
Isis sighed and shook her head as the three boys laughed. She easily pointed the way back to the jeep, and after a few minutes all the luggage was loaded into the back. Shen hopped into the driver's seat, and Isis climbed in next to him, while Ryou, Yami, and Bakura squeezed themselves into the back. Shen started up the car, and a moment later they were roaring down the dusty roads on their way to the Shepherd's Hotel.
"There aren't any proper roads leading to the pyramids," Isis explained, nearly having to yell to be heard over the noise of the Cairo streets, which were crowded with tourists, locals selling their wares, and stubborn pack animals. "It's much easier to rent camels to get out there. And besides, there aren't many cars in Cairo at all, and the streets are almost always packed with people and animals."
It was true. It took them almost twenty minutes to drive the short distance between the airport and the hotel. Shepherd's had been built in the 1840's, and was known all over Cairo as the Archaeologist's Hotel. Many famous Egyptologists had stayed there at one time or another, including the famous Emerson family. Shen had always made it a point to stay there when he was in Cairo, and he'd recently discovered that back in his own archaeologist days, Pegasus Crawford had used it often too. [2]
"Here we are," Shen shut down the jeep and climbed out, going around the front of the car to help Isis out. "Why don't you boys go put your things in a room and change out of your traveling clothes while I see about getting us a couple camels." He didn't wait for a reply and headed off into the thongs of tourists and Arabs that coated Cairo's streets. After arming themselves with their bags, the trio followed Isis inside.
She conversed for a few minutes with the desk clerk, and then came back to where they stood. Bakura was examining with a critical eye a statue in a glass case that was supposedly from the 11th Dynasty. Yami was carrying on an animated conversation in Arabic with one of the guests, an archaeologist by the look of him, and Ryou was rummaging around in his backpack for something. Isis started to announce that they could go up to their room now, but was interrupted as Bakura poked her.
"No way this is genuine," Bakura said, scowling and gesturing to the statue. "Oh sure, it's ancient, but sure as hell it's not from the 11th Dynasty. 19th, at the earliest. Looks like it was made to imitate the style of the 11th Dynasty, and they did a pretty decent job, I'll give them that."
Isis carefully hid a smile. Once a tomb thief, always a tomb thief. She opened her mouth to tell him his room number, but was again interrupted as Yami said something loudly in Arabic behind her. She sighed wearily and turned to find Yami and the archaeologist arguing loudly about some minor point of Egypt's 18th Dynasty's line of kings.
"Look, trust me, I know what all the history books claim!" Yami said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "But Pharaoh Atemu was the son of Akunamukanon, who was the son of a Theban noble who lived during the reign of Amenhotep III. Amenhotep died, and Akunamukanon took the throne, followed by Atemu, Sethos I, Ramses I, and then the Heretic!"
Bakura strolled over and leaned his elbow against Yami's shoulder. "He's right," he told the archaeologist, also in Arabic. "And believe me, he knows these things."
"Impossible," the archaeologist huffed, "All records clearly point to Ankhenaton directly succeeding his father. Atemu was a regent, or else only a regional official who was mistakenly given the title 'pharaoh' by careless scribes in later years. As for this 'Sethos', no official records of him have ever been found. He's merely a myth, along with the 'King Thief' that was supposed to have wandered the necropolis during that time."
Isis, seeing that Bakura looked scandalized and Yami was almost purple with rage, decided it was about time she stepped in. Quickly inserting herself between the two Egyptians and the archaeologist, she smiled as pleasantly as she could. As it was, the smile was rather strained. "Yami, Bakura, why don't you two go get changed? You two are in room 26b, on the second floor. Ryou and his father are in 26a, and I'm across the hall."
Ryou stifled a laugh as he caught the warning note in her voice, and stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Come on you two," he said in Japanese. "Let's leave the poor man alone."
Yami and Bakura both shot the unfortunate archaeologist heated glares, but grabbed their bags and allowed themselves to be led away by the still chuckling telepath.
After they'd gone, the archeologist turned to Isis with wide eyes. "That young man certainly knew a lot about Egypt! Before we got onto the subject of kingship, he was debating me point for point on Egyptian religion! And he certainly has very strong opinions... Is he a friend of yours, by any chance?"
Isis didn't know whether to laugh or sweatdrop. "You could say that..."
Up in the room they had the marvelous fortune to be sharing, Yami and Bakura were both changing clothes. Both of them had been wearing jeans and t-shirts, because in France it had only been in the 60's. Here the temperature was nearly 100, and they were franticly changing into anything they could find that was cooler. Yami pulled a tanktop and a pair of shorts out of his bag, while Bakura found a tanktop of his own and a pair of light-weight Chinese style silk pants.
Bakura pulled off his shirt in preparation to putting on the tanktop he'd found, and Yami felt a grotesque sense of deja vu. "Oh Ra..."
Bakura looked at him strangely, then blinked and glanced down at his bare chest. "Oh, these? What, you've never seen me shirtless before, Yami?" Mutely, the pharaoh shook his head. While no where near as bad or as numerous as Ryou's, Bakura's lithe form carried scars as well. One of them, on the left side of his chest over his heart, was long, jagged, and deep, made by the knife Seto Kaiba had wielded during the Locking Rituals. A little below and to the right of it, just under Bakura's breastbone, was another scar, one much smaller but no less deep. This was the wound that had killed him when he'd been shot by Briar-Rose during the Second Locking Rituals. When Bakura turned to snag his shirt, Yami saw that the wound really must have been worse that either Bakura or Ryou had ever let on, because evidently the bullet had passed all the way through Bakura. There was another scar on his back where it had exited.
Bakura glanced over his shoulder at Yami and smirked as he pulled his shirt on over his head. "What, you thought wounds like that would heal up perfectly?"
Yami just gaped at him. "But... But both of them were healed with magic!"
"So?" Bakura shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Now come on, let's go."
Yami shot him a look as the door the room beside theirs opened and Ryou stepped out. Bakura raised an eyebrow at his little brother's appearance, and Yami turned to see what was so strange. To his surprise, Ryou was dressed in jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. His hair was tied back into a low tail, and a wide-brimmed hat was perched on his head. The only skin that seemed to be showing was his hands and face.
"What the heck, Ryou?" Bakura asked. "You're going to boil yourself!"
Ryou sighed. "I know, but I'll burn if I'm not completely covered. So it's either sweat like a dog or burn like Shishio." [3]
Yami frowned. "You go out in the sun like that and you'll have a heat stroke."
"You don't have to come with us," Bakura said. "You can stay here and read, or something, if you'd like."
Ryou's face brightened considerably, and he looked relieved. "Really? You don't mind? It's not like I'd be able to see the pyramids anyway, and I don't fancy having to ride for an hour on the camel just to get hot and sweaty."
Yami and Bakura both chuckled appreciatively, and Bakura ruffled Ryou's hair. "Sure, stay here. We should be back before dinner time."
Ryou nodded and thanked them again, and then they parted ways. Ryou went back into his room to change into something much cooler now that he didn't have to worry about the sun, and Yami and Bakura headed downstairs.
Once changed, Ryou flopped down on one of the two beds in the room and pulled one of his braille novels out of his bag. The lights were off and the curtains were drawn, but it wasn't like he needed the light. For awhile the telepath tried to read, but even though this book was one of his favorites, he just couldn't seem to get into it. Teppic and Ptraci just didn't hold as much lure as they usually did. [4]
Finally he gave up and set the book down on the table next to the bed. He pulled the Ring over his head and set it on the table as well, then rolled over and kicked off his shoes. Settling against the pillows, he prepared to take a little mid-day siesta when he felt something brush against his mind. Normally this would have put him on guard instantly, but the presence was a familiar and comforting one. It beckoned to him, and he had no choice but to follow.
"Hey kid, listen to me, something's going really wrong in the realms..."
Lulled by the voice that coaxed him into a dreamworld where they could talk more easily, Ryou fell asleep.
-()-
"Where's Ryou?" Shen asked as Yami and Bakura came down the stairs.
"He decided to stay here," Bakura said, shrugging. "He didn't much fancy getting burned red as a lobster just to go not see a few piles of rocks."
Shen chuckled. "Yeah, I thought it might be something like that. If he hadn't decided to stay on his own, I was going to suggest it. Well, since that's settled, shall we go?"
He led the way outside to where Isis was standing with an Arabic man and a quartet of camels. Yami's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the beasts. Camels, almost twice the height of a normal man, seemed huge compared to the ex-pharaoh. He halted in his tracks and Bakura, who was behind him, gave him a strange look. "Are you all right, Yami?"
The pharaoh nodded, blinking rapidly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Were those always so... big?"
Bakura's eyebrows shot up. "What, camels? Don't tell me you've never ridden one before!"
Yami shook his head, his eyes still locked on the camels, which were regarding him in placid disinterest. Bakura rolled his eyes and took Yami by the elbow, pulling him forward. "Oh brother!"
"Hey!" Yami snapped, though he made no move to shake off Bakura's grip. "Bet you've never ridden one either!"
"Nope." Bakura said cheerfully. "But I'm not afraid of 'em, either."
Now Yami did pull out of Bakura's grasp. The pharaoh turned to glare at his white-haired companion and reached out to poke him stiffly in the chest. "Now see here you sand rat-!"
"Oooh..." Bakura smirked as Isis and Shen sweatdropped. "I think I struck a nerve!"
Yami sputtered in indignation and was about to say more when there was a sharp tug on his hair. He yelped in pain, raising his fists to beat off his attacker. Dimly he was aware of the fact that Shen and Isis looked mildly scandalized, the Arabic camel driver looked amused, and Bakura was laughing his head off and leaning against the nearest camel for support. Yami's flailing fists encountered coarse fur and flesh. If his hair hadn't been in the grip of a camel, Yami might have face-faulted.
"Gross!" he hissed as camel spit ran down the back of his neck. "Let go you flea-bitten beast! I was pharaoh before your ancestors' ancestors were alive!"
"Your hair looks too much like food!" Bakura cackled, tears of mirth running down his cheeks. "I always told you it was too bush-like, palace brat!"
"Shut up, Frodo." Yami growled, trying in vain to free his hair from the munching camel. "Just shut up." He finally managed to rip himself away from the camel and stumbled back a couple steps, glaring daggers at it. The camel almost seemed to be snickering, a rather large clump of black and magenta hair hanging from its mouth. "Filthy beast!"
Half-dreading what he may find, or rather not find, Yami lifted a hand to his smarting head. There was a dent in his spikes, but not as bad of one as he'd feared.
Bakura grinned and darted past Yami to hug the snickering camel around the neck. "I want this one! It understands me!"
Yami glared darkly as Shen went into a coughing fit to hide his laughter. Isis was conversing with the camel driver, and now she turned and gestured toward the pyramids. "Well, shall we go?"
Yami was still staring mistrustfully at the camels. Shen and Isis grabbed the halters of two of the ones Bakura wasn't cooing over. Taking the riding crops from the camel driver, Isis handed them out and then used hers to whack her chosen mount smartly on the rump. It obediently knelt, and with a boost from Shen she easily scrambled on.
Bakura looked mildly shocked as Shen whacked his camel in the same manner. "I'm not going to hit Pharaoh-chan!" He hugged the camel tighter as it chomped smugly on the stolen hair.
Yami twitched, clutching the riding crop. "Pharaoh-chan? Aren't you taking this just a little bit too far?"
Bakura snickered and winked. "You think so? But my P-chan's just so smart, taking a chunk out of bush-head like that!"
And somewhere far away, a pig sneezed.
But back to Egypt, because shape-shifting little black pigs don't matter much except in the eyes of fangirls. ;)
Yami twitched again.
Bakura, grinning like an idiot, leaned forward and began to talk to the camel quietly. After a moment he'd managed to coax the camel into a kneeling position by words alone, no hitting involved. He grinned triumphantly at Yami and he climbed into the saddle and the camel came ponderously to its feet.
"Show-off..." Yami muttered. Warily, he approached the single remaining camel with the crop held out in front of him like a weapon. The camel watched him, contentedly re-chewing its breakfast. Then it did a few mental calculations, took careful aim, and Yami had no time to dodge.
Growling, the ex-pharaoh wiped camel spit off his face, trying to ignore Bakura's uproarious laughter from behind him.
"I hate camels..." he muttered passionately, stalking up the camel and smacking it with the crop, just as Isis and Shen had done. It craned its neck to peer at him and snorted, making no move to kneel whatsoever. Scowling fiercely, Yami proceeded to hit it several more times. "Kneel, curse you!"
"Having trouble, palace brat?" Bakura asked from above and behind him, his voice still laced with laughter. A moment later Yami was lifted by his collar and found himself sprawled across the back of the camel. He muttered several choice curses in several languages as he sat up and got properly into the lumpy saddle, wishing he was close enough to hit the laughing ex-thief.
"I hate Bakura too..."
It didn't take as long as they thought it would to reach the pyramids, but by the time they arrived even the native Egyptians were sweating. Yami and Bakura both slid off their camels and dropped to their knees in the sand, their eyes wide as they silently stared in wonder. Chuckling, Isis put a hand on her pharaoh's shoulder. "Would you like to go inside?"
Yami and Bakura exchanged startled glances. "They're not still sealed?" Yami asked, a trace of indignation in his voice.
Bakura let out a short, barking laugh. "No tombs in Egypt exist that still are."
"I suppose that's true," Yami sighed. "Between modern archaeologists and certain tomb robbers."
Bakura just smiled innocently as Shen and Isis shook their heads.
It was a matter of a few minutes to locate an Arab boy to hold their camels for them while they went inside the Great Pyramid. Climbing up to the entrance was tiring work, as was scampering through the shafts that led upward into the heart of the monument. Isis and Shen were used to it, and to Bakura it was like going home, but Yami was beginning to feel slightly claustrophobic by the time they immerged into the Grand Gallery, the long, tall hallway that led to the King's Chamber. As they walked along it, their footfalls echoed against the stone. They were the only ones there.
"May Osiris bless the souls that built this..." Yami murmured. "It's amazing..."
Bakura said nothing, but when the four of them finally ducked through the door that led to the King's Chamber, he snorted in surprise and stopped dead in his tracks. Yami too, looked surprised. "What in the hells..."
"What's wrong?" Isis asked, glancing at the two of them.
"This is all wrong..." Yami muttered, walking up to the lidless, empty sarcophagus with a confused look on his face, one hand absently resting on the Puzzle. "This isn't a burial chamber..."
Bakura was nodding his agreement, staring intently at the smooth stone walls. "There should be carvings or paintings, but there's neither."
Shen and Isis exchanged shocked looks. People had theorized this same thing before, but hearing it come from the mouths of two inhabitants of ancient Egypt itself was something of a surprise. "Some archaeologists do believe there are undiscovered rooms in this pyramid," Shen admitted after he'd regained his voice. "But it's never been proved."
Bakura smirked, and he and Yami traded looks. "Well well, seems that whoever 'robbed' this tomb didn't do a very good job of it."
"You mean there are other rooms?" Isis asked excitedly. This could be the find of the century!
Bakura laughed, and it had a slightly bitter ring to it. "We're not telling you anything, sweetheart! If they haven't been found yet, then gods forbid those rooms be unsealed."
Yami was nodding. "Our tombs are sacred, Isis. As an archaeologist you may not understand, but we won't voluntarily let you violate the graves of our ancestors if we can help it. But yes, there are other rooms." [5]
Isis and Shen stared openmouthed as Yami and Bakura both turned and bowed to the empty sarcophagus, and then left without a word. After a moment Shen turned to his companion. "Did they just admit...?" The two archaeologists blinked at each other for a long moment, then shook their heads and followed the two ex-spirits.
By the time they reached the outside of the pyramid again, Bakura had already paid the boy and was holding the reins to all four camels. Yami was standing a few feet away and casting wary glances at the beasts. Bakura, predictably, was snickering.
Their next stop was the Sphinx, only a few minutes walk from the Great Pyramid. Yami and Bakura were as in awe of this as the pyramid, in fact almost more so. Both of them went to their knees again between the Sphinx's paws and began murmuring in Egyptian what the archaeologists recognized as prayers of protection. Bakura must have been really shaken if he, a self-proclaimed atheist, were invoking the gods. After a moment, Isis and Shen realized that the two were no longer praying, but talking earnestly together. Their words were too fast and too low for the archaeologists to catch, especially with their imperfect command of Egyptian.
"(I wonder if the legends are true...)" Bakura mused, staring up at the huge stone Sphinx.
"(Which ones?)" Yami asked. "(The ones about Ra's library or the ones about the Sphinx avenging anyone who defiled a pharaoh's tomb?)"[6]
"(Any of them,)" Bakura said quietly, his voice strangely subdued. "(So much of what we believed was wrong, wasn't it Atemu?)"
"(Yes,)" Yami sighed, not even commenting, or perhaps not realizing, that Bakura had used his true name. "(So much ground in tradition that killed us all... They say history can only be understood when looked back upon, and for my poor country that is certainly true... If there hadn't been so much damn inbreeding among the royal family, then maybe...)"
"(Maybes don't bring our home back,)" Bakura said softly, putting a hand on Yami's shoulder. "(And maybes don't stop us from missing it... Outlaw that I was, I did love Egypt, my pharaoh. I do miss it.)"
"(So do I. More then anything else in the world...)"
-()-
When the four of them finally returned to the hotel late that afternoon, Yami was quite ready to get rid of his camel for good. He'd nearly run out of curses to call it, Bakura's constant laughter was beginning to give him a headache, and he was seriously considering sending that stupid camel to the Shadow Realm. The camel driver was waiting for them in front of Shepherd's, and Yami couldn't seem to get off his camel fast enough.
"Hm, now what shall I tell Yugi about this little endeavor?" Bakura snickered, giving his own 'P-chan' a fond pat before handing its reins to the herder. "I wonder if he'll believe me when I tell him his yami nearly got eaten by a vicious, rabid camel..."
"Shut up, Frodo," Yami growled, whacking Bakura on the shoulder none too lightly. Bakura snickered, but said nothing more. He didn't really feel like spending a day in the Shadow Realm himself, and then trying to explain it to Ryou.
Isis and Shen went to see about arranging dinner, while Yami and Bakura headed upstairs to their room. Yami grabbed a towel and clean clothes and went into the bathroom for a quick shower, still muttering about tomb thieves and demon camels. Bakura, trying not to laugh at him, just shook his head and left. The white-haired man turned to face the door that led to Ryou's room and knocked quietly. When there was no answer, he tried the door and found it unlocked.
Blinking against the darkness he found, Bakura stepped inside. After a moment, his eyes adjusted, and he could make out Ryou's silhouette, sitting on one of the beds and apparently staring blankly at the wall.
Ryou's expression was blank, and Bakura felt his heart flutter slightly in fear. Ryou looked... soulless. But then the hikari shook himself slightly and looked up, and Bakura breathed a sigh of relief as he hurried to sit next to his brother. He was shocked to find that Ryou was shaking, and hurriedly wrapped an arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Ryou, what's wrong?"
"I -I," Ryou shuddered and leaned back against Bakura. "I had a vision. It was all muddled, like it always is. Just a jumble of voices and images..."
Bakura tightened his grip on his brother's shoulders, mostly from reflex. "What was it about, otouto? Could you tell?"
Ryou shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut. "Something is going to happen among the realms soon, taking not just ours, but many others... Something very old, and yet very young... It was all a blur. But I know one thing, Bakura," He opened his eyes, and for a moment seemed to look up at Bakura. "The one who told me was-"
He never got the chance to finish. He was interrupted by someone knocking on his half-open door. A moment later Yami stuck his head in, his hair still wet from his shower. "Shen says we should come down to supper now. We're eating in the hotel restaurant downstairs." He then ducked out, and Ryou and Bakura could hear his footsteps receding down the hallway.
Bakura patted Ryou on the shoulder. "Shall we?" The telepath had calmed down considerably now, and he nodded. His vision could wait for a better time. The two left, Ryou closing and locking the door behind him. Then they went downstairs to supper.
The restaurant was pretty nice, and they all had a good dinner. At one point Ryou commented that this was probably the only time in a thousand millennia that a pharaoh and a tomb robber had voluntarily sat down together for dinner. The remark promptly got him pelted with French fries by both parties. All in all, there was much laughter at the table, and Isis was happy to see that Yami and Bakura really did have a deep, strong friendship. It would aid them well in what the Millennium Tauk showed her was coming.
They sat at their table late into the night, long after the dessert plates had been cleared away, and just talked. Shen told stories from his two year stint in Japan's army. Isis talked about her days in archaeology, and how much she and Shaadi loved the world of Egypt. Ryou spoke of some of his adventures, ones only Bakura had been there for. Bakura told of the day long ago when he'd seen Yami for the first time, when both of them had been barely five. Yami told of his coronation, and of the day he'd found a tiny baby girl on the steps of his palace and adopted her as his own. No one noticed the flicker of pain that went across Bakura's face when the baby was mentioned.
It was nearly midnight when they finally retreated to their rooms. Ryou lay down and fell asleep almost immediately. Next door, things didn't go quite so smoothly.
Yami growled and rolled over in bed, trying to resist the urge to throw something at Bakura. The ex-tomb thief was mumbling in his sleep, in between loud, snorting snores. Yami didn't know what he was muttering about, but since he heard Amoura's name more then once he figured he probably didn't want to know.
Finally giving up, Yami jumped out of his bed and onto Bakura's, stuffing his pillow over the tomb robber's face. Bakura awoke after one more snort, and began thrashing in bed. After a moment he managed to throw Yami off of him and sat panting, staring at the pharaoh. "You were trying to kill me!"
"I was not," Yami grumbled, pulling himself off the floor. "I was trying to muffle your snoring so I could actually get some sleep."
Bakura stuck his tongue out at the pharaoh. "I don't snore, you ninny!"
"You do too!" Yami accused, flopping back onto his own bed. "I'm surprised Isis doesn't hear it across the hall!"
Bakura snorted and rolled his eyes, laying back down. "If you say so... Good night, palace brat."
"G'night Frodo."
They woke up early the next morning, and right after breakfast they all stuffed themselves into the jeep for the ride to the dig. It was a long ride, especially in the heat and with all of them crammed together. By the time they reached the dig around lunch time, they were all more then ready to get out of the car.
They piled out nearly on top of each other as Shaadi, Solomon, and Arthur immerged from the tents to greet them. Socrates came running too, and wound herself around Ryou's ankles, purring loudly. Shaadi had just finished fixing up lunch, so they all went into the biggest tent to sit down and eat and talk.
"We're so close!" Bakura said enthusiastically, smacking one fist into the palm of his other hand. "Just think Ryou, another hour or two and it will all be over."
The archaeologists looked startled. "Bakura, you don't plan to go to the tomb right after lunch, do you?" Isis asked, her voice slightly alarmed.
Bakura gave her a strange look. "Why not?" he asked. "We can get it over with as soon as possible."
Shen shook his head. "Bad idea. Wait until tonight, at least. Then Mana will be able to go in with you."
"Why wouldn't she be able to go with us now?" Yami asked, one hand resting on the Puzzle, and the tips of two fingers stroking its smooth surface like a golden worry stone.
"She can only be outside the tomb at night," Shaadi explained. "If you were to go now, likely as not Mana would not be able to get to you before Mahaado could. Besides, if it seems like Mana is bringing you with her, maybe Mahaado will accept you easier and not attack outright."
Yami looked shocked, and he sat up straighter. "I am his pharaoh! He wouldn't dare-"
He was cut off as the tent flap was pushed aside and a familiar winged goddess stepped inside. Fate smiled widely and nodded at Bakura, and bowed to Yami, who bowed in return. But when Fate's eyes came to rest on Ryou, she seemed surprised to see that her son was there. "Ryou! I thought you were going to stay with Serenity!"
Ryou gave her a defiant look. "Mother, I must see this through to the end. If anything, this is all my fault."
"Rubbish," Bakura sneered. "It's all Mahaado's fault. Or mine, if anyone's. Don't you dare take this guilt on your shoulders too, Ryou."
There was an insistent squeaking sound from around Fate's ankles, and Yami and Bakura looked down. It seemed that Priestess had decided to come in with Fate. Upon seeing the Kuriboh, Bakura's eyes widened until they threatened to pop out of his skull. Yami nearly fell off the crate he was sitting on. "That's Mana's pet Kuriboh!"
Fate raised her eyebrows, a smile playing around her lips. "Oh, is it? I hadn't noticed."
Yami gave her a sharp look as Priestess climbed up onto his lap, purring happily. He scratched her back and her rumbling grew louder. She closed her eyes in happy contentment.
"I never thought I'd see a real one again," Yami said softly. "Not after I sealed them away..."
Fate chuckled. "Priestess's will was so strong, she refused to be sealed. She was not the only one."
Yami's eyes grew wide, and beside him so did Bakura's. "What do you mean?" Bakura asked excitedly. "There were other monsters that weren't sealed away into the tablets? Ones that are still loose?"
Fate nodded, smiling at their amazement, and that of the archaeologists and Ryou. "Yes. There's a Feral Imp and two Kuriboh in your tomb, Yami, and though they're dead they're also quite real."
"Inkhept, Basta, Ankhas," Yami murmered the names of his pets, a smile playing around his face. "I miss them."
"Who else?" Bakura asked eagerly. "Are there any still around?"
Fate had a sudden vision of Bakura perched on top of one of the various dragons and tried not to snicker. "No, none except Priestess are alive now. But there were others that survived beyond the time of the sealing. The White Dragon did, and there were others."
"Kisara," Yami mumbled, as if a new memory had been awoken. "The girl that held the dragon ka. At the time of my death, she was still a prisoner of Akunadin. What happened to her?"
Fate smiled to see the pharaoh's concern. "Soon after your death, when your High Priest Sethos took the throne, he released her from his father's prison and made her his queen. They ruled and lived together happily for many years, with the White Dragon sleeping inside of her. When she did die, of entirely natural causes, the Dragon was released."
Bakura chuckled. "Kaiba married Kisara, eh? Hey Yami, wanna bet he'll like the fact he became pharaoh slightly more then the fact he was a priest?"
"Probably," Yami agreed, chuckling.
"Woah woah, hold on," Shen made a T with his hands as if calling a time-out. "Can someone please explain what's just been said to the non-reincarnates?"
Bakura chuckled. "In our time Seto Kaiba was Yami's High Priest. Yami had a daughter, but when he died she was only, what was it Yami? Four or five?"
"Four," Yami said.
"Well anyway, she was too young to rule." Bakura continued. "So for twenty years or so, Kaiba acted as regent-pharaoh until Shahi was old enough to rule on her own. Kisara was a foreign girl, who carried the ka of the Blue Eyes White Dragon inside her soul. Akunadin wanted to kill her and draw out the dragon so Seto could use it to forcefully take the throne from Yami, but Kaiba refused because he'd fallen in love with Kisara. Apparently, after Yami and I kicked the bucket, they got married."
"And there was a child," Fate said, the corners of her eyes crinkling in laughter. "A son who became pharaoh like his father. Ramses the First."
Yami blinked. "If Seto's son became pharaoh, he would have had to have married Shahi."
Fate nodded, trying not to laugh at the strangled expression on Bakura's face, which Yami appeared not to notice. The tomb robber looked like he'd swallowed a scorpion and realized it was still alive. Ryou was carefully hiding a grin behind his hands. Yami turned and blinked at his friend. "Bakura, what's wrong?"
"Er..." Bakura struggled, and finally managed, to put on his usual 'taunting-the-pharaoh' smirk. "Just thinking about how amusing it is that your daughter married Kaiba's son, that's all."
Ryou grinned widely, and his telepathic voice rang in Bakura's head. "(It's even more amusing that it was actually your daughter that married Kaiba's son. Talk about your mixed bloodlines...)"
"(Shut up.)" Bakura thought back in his direction, and Ryou snickered quietly.
Yami looked back and forth between the two. Most of Ryou's friends had learned to tell when he was speaking to someone mind-to-mind, and Yami was no exception. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"Nothing, nothing," Ryou said, grinning. "Just a stray thought I had."
Bakura snorted, and Ryou smiled at him innocently. Yami rolled his eyes. "To get back to the subject at hand, Lady Fate, do you think it would be wiser to go to the tomb and confront Mahaado now, or wait until nightfall?"
Fate looked thoughtful, and slightly wistful. "It's been a long time since you have sought my council, Atemu."
Yami chuckled. "It's been a long time since I've seen you."
"Good point," Fate amended, smiling. "I believe it would be better to wait until after dark. Mana will be able to guide you, then, and perhaps the sight of her on your side will stay Mahaado's hand."
"He would never attack me..." Yami insisted, but his voice held more doubts then before.
Fate shook her head sadly. "He would, and he probably will, Atemu. He's no longer the man we knew."
Yami sighed. "Ryou told me as much, but I don't want to believe it."
"Believe it," Ryou said quietly.
Fate saw the despairing look begin to creep over Yami's face, and she put a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing can stay the same, my friend. But not everything has to change, either." One of her wings wrapped itself around the pharaoh's shoulders, hugging him slightly. He smiled at her and nodded.
The day passed, as days will. Supper was a fine affair, which Fate joined them for, despite the fact that she technically didn't need to eat. Yami spent most of the meal sneaking tidbits to Socrates and Priestess under the table, and the others pretended not to notice. Soon after dinner, the sun began to sink below the horizon, and the mood sobered. It wasn't long before the tent flap was pushed aside, and a familiar magess stepped inside.
Yami had been sitting on one of the cots, talking quietly to Bakura, but when Mana came in he rose to his feet.
Mana's weary blue eyes swept around the room. She nodded cordially to each of the archaeologists, smiled at Ryou and Bakura, and curtsied to Fate. When her eyes landed on Yami, she gasped slightly and dropped to her knees, bowing her head before her pharaoh. "Your Majesty. I-I was not sure you would come."
In two strides Yami was across the tent and anxiously pulling Mana to her feet. "Please, none of that. I'm not pharaoh anymore."
"You are to me," Mana said, her eyes still lowered.
Yami took the chance to study her. Her blond hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders, framing a slender face and bright blue eyes. She was dressed in long, soft white robes, belted with a strip of yellow-orange cloth. A pendant carved with the likeness of the goddess Hathor rested lightly against her breasts. In her left hand she held her staff, the same one that the Dark Magician Girl wielded on her card.
She hadn't changed. Yami could clearly remember the first time he'd met her in a certain bank of jars in his palace, when he was trying to hide from his tutor Simon, and she from her master, Mahaado. Though their giggling that day had found them both out, they'd become fast friends. No matter what.
Taking her chin gently in his hand, Yami tilted her face upward and made her look at him. "Mana, I'm your friend, not your pharaoh."
For one eternal moment Mana and Yami looked into each other's eyes. A lot was not said in that moment. Apologies were not voiced, regrets were not spoken, and the tearful reunion Bakura had half-expected never came to be. Mana just closed her eyes against Yami's violet gaze and nodded. Smiling a little, Yami stepped back and released her.
It took a moment for Mana to collect herself. She took a deep breath and passed one hand in front of her face, as if brushing away unseen spider webs. "I suppose you'll want to see Mahaado," she said softly. Bakura and Yami nodded in tandem, and she smiled a little. "I knew that would be your answer."
Without further word she turned and left the tent. Yami and Bakura followed without hesitation. Ryou stopped for a moment and turned back, as if his mother had spoken to him. Fate looked grim, and slightly annoyed. Ryou shook his head firmly, his mouth set in a defiant line, and then he turned and fled the tent after his brother and friends. Fate sighed deeply and sat down, putting the heel of one hand against her forehead as if she had a headache.
"It's begun."
[Cue music: Into the West - Annie Lennox]
Mana reached the stairs that led down to the tomb first, and whispered a spell that lit up the end of her staff like a Christmas tree. She stepped lightly down the carved stone steps, Yami just behind her. Bakura paused at the top for a minute, waiting for Ryou to catch up.
"Ryou," Bakura caught his brother's arm as he tried to squeeze past. "You don't have to do this. I can read the fear in your face, little brother. You're terrified of Mahaado. Stay here. We'll be fine, I swear."
Ryou shook his head, and though his eyes were wide and scared, his feet were planted firmly, his fists clenched. "I won't let you leave me behind." His voice trembled only a little. "You need me more then you think."
Bakura sighed. "I wish there was some way to make you stay behind, but I know there isn't. Come on then."
Meanwhile, Yami and Mana had already entered the darkened tomb. Yami gasped in wonder at the paintings on the walls, scenes from his life that nearly took his breath away.
"I remember that day..." he said softly, running a hand over a scene that showed himself and Mahaado poling a skiff through the Nile, hunting water fowl with heavy sticks like boomerangs, made to break a bird's back on impact. "I got so annoyed when Mahaado took more birds then I did..."
Mana laughed quietly. "I remember it too. He came home strutting and gloating like nobody's business."
There was a sound from the shadows, like a soft footstep, and another light flared to life. This one shone from the end of another familiar staff, illuminating a man with deep purple hair and blue eyes the color of the wintertime sky. He, too, was dressed in soft white robes belted with blue, and a pendant etched with the Eye of Horus hung around his neck. "I remember too."
"Mahaado..." Yami breathed. It was undoubtedly his mage and friend, but there was something wrong in his eyes... Ryou and Fate were right, Mahaado was no longer the Mahaado he'd known so well.
Mahaado bowed his head, almost cordially. "My Pharaoh,"
Lay down your
sweet and weary head
Night is falling,
You have come to journey's end.
There was the strike of a footstep behind them, and Mana and Yami turned to see Bakura guide Ryou into the tomb, both of them looking around warily. Bakura's eyes flashed when he saw Mahaado, and he scowled. Ryou shuddered, and his hand went protectively to the Millennium Ring around his neck.
"You," Mahaado snarled, his voice cold. Yami turned to see that his eyes had gone hard, and he was scowling right back at Bakura.
"Mahaado," Bakura's voice was flat, but Yami noticed that he subtly stepped in front of Ryou, as if to protect him. The hikari was shaking like a leaf, and was backed up against one wall 'staring' at Mahaado with wide eyes.
Mahaado snarled, and suddenly he rounded on Yami. "How dare you bring this filth in here! He is the lowest of any people, yet you treat him like a friend! Traitor pharaoh!"
"Shut your mouth, camel face," Bakura hissed. "Leave Yami out of this."
In an instant Mahaado's staff was leveled at Yami's chest. "I will deal with whoever I want, slave!" Yami seemed paralyzed, unable to move out of the way of the spell Mahaado was readying, and he simply stared at the mage with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Bakura growled, deep in his throat, and darted a glance over his shoulder. Ryou was backed into a corner by imaginary demons, yet the telepath made little shooing motions at Bakura and shook his head. The tomb robber understood. There was nothing he could do to help or protect Ryou. There were other things he had to do.
In a moment's time Bakura dashed across the tomb, sliding in front of Yami with his arms spread and a determined scowl on his face, just as Mahaado let his spell loose. It hit Bakura square in the chest, and he let out a brief cry of pain before being driven into unconsciousness. He was tossed backward by the force of the blast, and Yami caught him before he could hit the ground.
The pharaoh looked in shock from the unconscious man in his arms to the mage, unable to believe that Mahaado had just attacked him. Even more unable to believe that Bakura had just possibly saved his life. Bakura was taller then Yami. If the spell had hit Bakura in the chest, it had been aimed for Yami's head. "Mahaado..."
Sleep now,
Dream of the ones who came before us.
"Bakura!!"
Mahaado's head snapped up to see Ryou, glowing a blazing white, standing across the room from him. The telepath had an absolutely murderous snarl on his face, and before Mahaado had a chance to react he threw out a hand toward the mad mage. Mahaado felt himself be picked up by an invincible force he could not break free of, and a moment later he was hurtled ten feet backward and directly into the solid stone wall of the tomb.
He let out a sharp cry as he hit, and fell to his knees when Ryou released the force that was holding him up. He kneeled there for a moment, panting slightly. When he raised his head, it was only to glare at Ryou. He climbed shakily to his feet, regaining the staff he'd dropped when he'd hit the wall.
Ryou squeaked in surprise when he realized Mahaado was unhurt by his assault, and he shrunk back in fear as Mahaado walked toward him.
They are calling
From across the distant shore.
Yami was still pinned under Bakura's weight, unwilling to simply drop the tomb robber to the floor. Mana appeared either too afraid or too shocked, or was simply unwilling, to interfere as Mahaado stalked toward the telepath.
Ryou whimpered and tried to back away, his fingers scrabbling against the stone at his back as if trying to claw his way through it. His eyes were wide in an almost animal fear, and beads of sweat were rolling down his face.
"Mahaado! Stop!"
The magician paid Yami no heed, and took another step toward Ryou, reaching out a hand to lightly, almost gently, caress Ryou's face with his fingers. To Yami's horror, Ryou screamed as if in pain, tried to pull away from the mage, but Mahaado grabbed him by the hair. Taking Ryou's chin roughly in his hand, Mahaado yanked Ryou forward until their foreheads touched.
"Mahaado!" Mana screamed. "Stop! You'll kill him!"
Yami recognized this as a position used by telepaths to magnify and focus their powers in on one person. Ryou screamed again, shutting his eyes in agony. Sweat was rolling down his face now. He writhed and smacked against Mahaado, trying to make the mage let him go, but Mahaado only grinned sadistically.
"Mahaado!!"
Yami nearly jumped out of his skin as Bakura pulled himself out of his arms. He hadn't been aware that the tomb thief was awake again. "Get the hell away from my hikari!" Almost seeming to fly, Bakura leaped across the intervening space and tackled Mahaado, knocking him away from Ryou, who collapsed bonelessly to the ground. In a moment, Yami was beside him, feeling for a pulse in the telepath's neck and sighing in relief when he found one.
Bakura and Mahaado were rolling around on the stone floor, snarling and snapping at each other like feral dogs. Both of them had a grip on Mahaado's Dark Magician staff, trying to wrestle it away from the other. Bakura had a murderous glint in his eyes that hadn't been seen since the days of Battle City, and the sight of it caused Yami to shiver in spite of himself.
"Both of you, stop it!" Yami yelled, trying to make himself heard over the sounds of the scuffle. "This is pointless! We shouldn't be fighting!"
"It won't be any use," Mana said softly, and Yami turned to see her kneeling next to Ryou, tears trickling down her cheeks. "They're both too stubborn to give up or turn their back on the other, and if Mahaado can get his staff back, Bakura's as good as dead." She sobbed quietly, and Yami could see five thousand years worth of sorrow etched in her face and eyes. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, as if trying to make a very tough decision. Yami was just about to go to her and try and comfort her when her eyes snapped open again.
Gone was the overwhelming sorrow and the tears in Mana's eyes, replaced with a kind of quiet sadness, but above all, determination. "Bakura!" she yelled, her voice surprisingly loud. "Break his staff! Shatter the jewel on the end of it!"
Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Bakura looked up, and for a moment his eyes met Mana's. Then he nodded, and his snarl of rage was replaced by a look of grim determination. He threw himself backward and onto his back, still holding on to Mahaado's staff. Mahaado yelled in surprise as Bakura coiled up and managed to center his feet against Mahaado's stomach. Kicking out with both feet, putting all his years of martial arts training into it, Bakura tossed Mahaado across the room, forcing the mage to let go of his staff or have his arms torn out of their sockets.
Before Mahaado could regain his bearings, Bakura had rolled back to his feet, the staff gripped tightly in both hands. He raised it over his head, and Mahaado cried out in fear or horror. Bakura's eyes narrowed as he stared at the mage.
"Go to hell."
Swinging the staff down, Bakura clubbed the end of it against the stone floor of the tomb. For one agonizing moment, nothing happened. Then, with a sound like a rock going through a pane of glass, the end of the staff shattered, scattering shards of green glass across the floor.
Mahaado mewled softly and reached out a hand toward Mana, as if begging her to help. For a moment the lovers stared at each other, and then Mana turned away. Face full of sadness, Mahaado turned to face Bakura and Yami, and they were surprised to see his eyes were clear, not dulled with the gleam of insanity as they had been before.
"I'm so sorry..." he whispered.
And then, like mist on a sunny day, he faded into nothing.
Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away,
For a moment, everything was silent. Yami bowed his head and touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead, then to his lips, and then rested his hand over his heart in a final salute to his old friend.
Bakura threw the rest of the staff away with a slight snarl. He stared down at the shards of the jewel with clenched fists. Years ago, killing Mahaado would have brought him nothing but joy. Now, though, his heart was heavy, and he only felt pity for the fallen magician.
Mana sobbed quietly, one hand over her mouth. Yami rose from his kneeling posture and went over to her. He bent down and put an arm around her shoulders, whispering softly to her. She nodded to whatever he said, and got to her feet, allowing her pharaoh to lead her out of the tomb.
After they were gone, Bakura kicked at the ground, sending a shard of the jewel skittering across the ground. It came to rest near Ryou's hand, and Bakura sighed softly. Crouching, he gathered a few of the larger blue-green shards and put them into his pocket. Even someone like Mahaado needed to leave a legacy.
Like Yami before him, Bakura kissed the tips of his fingers and let them lightly brush the ground where Mahaado had knelt. "Rest in peace, you old bastard," he whispered.
Turning away, Bakura went to his brother's side and gathered Ryou up into his arms. The telepath was breathing evenly, and as far as Bakura could tell he was only asleep. Lifting Ryou into his arms, Bakura winced slightly as the telepath bumped against the spot on his chest where Mahaado's spell had hit him. Nothing serious though, probably only a bruise.
Bakura smiled slightly as he looked down at his former hikari. Ryou looked so peaceful, with his hair falling into his face and his mouth open slightly. So innocent. He didn't deserve all the crap that he had to deal with.
..."I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had ever happened."
"So do all who live in such times."... [7]
Bakura chuckled and shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. Ryou moaned slightly in his arms, and Bakura hugged him closer. Taking one last look around the tomb, Bakura climbed back up the stairs and into the starlight.
Safe in my arms,
You're only sleeping.
Yami and Mana were already back with the others in the tent when Bakura came in with Ryou still unconscious in his arms. Yami and Mana were in the corner, and Fate and Yami were whispering quietly to Mana, slowly but surely calming her down. Shaadi, Shen, Solomon, and Arthur sat on crates or cots, rather uncomfortable and not sure what to do.
When Bakura stepped inside with Ryou, Shen let out a horrified cry and leaped to his feet, terrified that Mahaado had killed his son this time. Hearing her lover cry out, Fate turned away from Mana, and the goddess's eyes grew wide. "My baby!" Running across the tent, Fate swept Ryou out of Bakura's arms before the former spirit had anything to say about it. Cradling Ryou in her arms like a mother cat with wings, Fate looked just about as human as Bakura had ever seen. With Shen crowding in on one side and the look of worry on Fate's face, Bakura could easily see how much they loved Ryou.
Sighing softly, Bakura sat down on a crate with a gentle thunk, suddenly aware of how tired he was. Solomon and Arthur were both staring at him, but he ignored them and raised a hand to rub at the spot on his chest where Mahaado's spell had caught him. When his fingers met bare skin, he froze. Looking down, he discovered a gaping and charred hole in his t-shirt, and underneath his skin was bruised and scraped. "That jerk! This was my favorite shirt!"
Yami looked up from the corner, and his eyebrows shot up. He whistled softly. "Oh man, Bakura..."
"It looks worse then it is," Bakura waved his concern aside. "I'll survive. I'm more concerned with Ryou. Is he gonna be okay, Fate-sama?"
Fate shook her head, biting her lip. "I-I don't know," she sounded scared, like a child whose puppy's been hit by a car. Or a mother whose son's been hit by a crazy mage. "I don't know,"
"He will be," Everyone turned to face Mana, who looked tired, but not so sad anymore. "He just needs to rest."
"What did Mahaado do to him?" Yami asked as Fate got Ryou settled down on one of the cots.
Mana looked down at her feet. "There's something I didn't mention about mage poisoning before, because I honestly didn't think Ryou would ever come into contact with Mahaado again. Once someone has been poisoned, even after they fully recover, if the person who poisons them just so much as touches them, it'll cause them unbearable pain, and sometimes throw them into a remission." Fate gasped, and Mana held up a hand to forestall them. "It's okay, Ryou didn't go into a full remission. He just needs a couple hours to sleep off all the pain that Mahaado put him through. He'll be just fine."
Fate breathed a sigh of relief and stepped around Yami to give Mana a hug. "Thank you, my friend. You've put my heart at ease."
Mana nodded, smiling against Fate's shoulder. "Good-bye," she said softly. Fate's hug tightened slightly, and then the goddess released her and stepped away. Their gazes met and locked for a moment, and then Fate nodded slowly. Nothing more was said. There was nothing else to say.
"Bakura, Atemu, will you come with me?" Mana asked, heading toward the door to the tent. The two ex-spirits exchanged glances and shrugged, and Yami followed her out the door. Bakura hesitated and glanced back at Ryou, but Fate nodded to him, and he ducked outside. Yami and Mana were standing a ways off, near the door to the tomb, and Bakura joined them.
What can you see
on the horizon?
Why do those white gulls call?
"I thank you both for what you've done," Mana bowed deeply to the two, who blushed and franticly motioned for her to stand up. She did, but only reluctantly. Her eyes were shadowed and sad, and her staff was held loosely in one hand. "Now that Mahaado has passed on, he's regained his sanity. He's calling for me to join him, I can feel it. This will be the last time you ever see me." She smiled slightly, as if amused by something Yami and Bakura didn't know. "Or the last time I ever see you, at any rate."
Yami looked distressed. "Mana, you can't mean that! Not now that I've just found you again!"
"I truly wish we had the chance to talk, to catch up on old times, Atemu, but that cannot be. I'll miss you, pharaoh. Perhaps we'll see each other again, in the afterlife. Perhaps."
Yami had tears in his eyes as Mana started to turn her back on them, and he lunged forward to place a hand on her shoulder. His movements were jerky, his limbs felt like lead. What was happening to him? "Manasah, you can't-"
Mana stopped, her head lowered slightly. Slowly she reached up to cover Yami's hand with hers, and then she gently took his hand off her shoulder. "Don't make this any harder for me then it already is, Amennosis."
Her back still half-turned to them, Mana began to softly chant in Egyptian, words too low for Yami or Bakura to hear. A comforting blanket dropped around Yami's senses, dulling them and covering him in a warm fog. He realized with a start that Mana was placing some kind of spell over them. He tried to form words, but his mouth was muzzy, as if filled with cotton. His arms and legs felt like they were weighted down with iron.
"Mana..." Bakura struggled to speak, already being buried under the web of magic that Mana wove around him and Yami. "What are you..."
Never answering, and never pausing in her chanting, Mana reached a hand up over her head. Something seemed to glimmer, and for a moment it looked to Yami and Bakura, in their magic-fogged eyes, like all the stars in the heavens were falling and gathering in Mana's outstretched hand.
Turning on one foot, Mana tossed the 'stars' over the two of them, where they sparkled and shimmered against their hair and clothes. The spell was complete now, and Mana lowered her staff, letting her chanting fade away into the moonlight.
For a moment she just stood, looking at the two men before her. The very last of her race...
She could see the awareness in their eyes fading as her spell took hold and they were whisked into the vision she'd woven for them. It would be sad, and it would break their hearts, she knew, but it would also bring them a peace.
Moving forward a step, Mana stood on tiptoes and kissed Bakura's forehead. "Farewell Bekhura ben Kadin, liberator of my lover's soul. May you always live in happiness in this time in the mortal plane that the gods have granted you." She smiled as something sparked between her eyes and his, and she spoke softly to him, words that his mind would never remember, but his heart would hear. "There will be a son first, strong as his father, graceful as his mother. He will be a rock, a strong tree on which to anchor the ben Kadin legacy, and I know you will be proud of him. All your children will be blessed, Bekhura, and your line will go on forever and ever into the dwindling sunset. Farewell, Bekhura, farewell for now."
Bowing deeply to him, she stepped away from Bakura and turned to face Yami. The joy that her fleeting glimpse of Bakura's children had brought her faded slightly. Yami was just slightly shorter then her, and she had to bend at the waist a little to rest a kiss on his forehead. Once she had, she knelt, staring up at the unseeing face of her pharaoh.
"Farewell, Amennosis Atemu Horus-Osiris, Living Pharaoh who died ages ago. May you always have peace and happiness in this life. Brother of my soul, best friend of my ka, lord of my land, pharaoh of my heart. I love you in a way I could never love Mahaado, in a way I could never love any but my lord. Pharaohs were gods on earth, though maybe not in the same way Fate and Ryou are, and you still hold power. Your life will be great, my friend, very, very great." Slowly she bowed her head, and two crystal teardrops fell onto the sand by her knees. "Fare thee well, my lord. Go you safe, and keep you safe, and, in time, come safe home to me."
[Cue music: All I Ever Wanted - Amick Byram]
When the fog was lifted from their eyes, Yami and Bakura found themselves in a very different place from the one they'd left. Everything seemed to shimmer, as if it was being seen through a haze of heat. After a moment that too faded, leaving the two ex-spirits staring in wonder at their surroundings. Mana was no where to be seen, and both Egyptians guessed (correctly) that this was some kind of illusion she had cast for them.
"This is..." Yami trailed off, his eyes wide in wonder.
"Your palace." Bakura whispered, leaning against a nearby pillar to stay upright. The pillar supported his weight, he didn't phase through it like he'd half-expected he would. He stared at it, almost disbelieving, and ran a hand over the carved and painted figures that marched across the stone. Egyptian guards, carrying spears, some of them with bows, marched in rows three deep. In the midst of them walked another figure, ropes and chains connecting him to the guards making it obvious he was a prisoner. Half in wonder, half in horror, Bakura rested his hand gently over the white-haired carving.
The room was huge, easily the size of a very large school auditorium, with a ceiling that soared away into infinity, held up by eight massive carved and painted pillars, one of which Bakura was currently leaning on. At one end of the long room was an enormous set of double doors, carved of wood and leaved in gold. Paintings on the doors depicted the royal crowning of Pharaoh Atemu, with his royal parents, as well as the gods, standing attendance. At the other end of the long hall was a dais, raised two feet off the floor, with a set of wide, shallow steps at the front. A wide, arched doorway led back into the rest of the palace. All of it, walls, pillars, dais, and floor were made of fine white marble, swirled with light green and thin ribbons of black.
On the dais itself sat a chair. Not just any chair, but Atemu's throne. Made of wood, but sheathed in gold, the chair was similar to the one discovered in the tomb of Pharaoh Tutankhamen in 1922. The arms and legs were carved to look like those of a lion. A royal blue cushion sat on the seat of the chair. The back was painted and carved in a scene straight out of Yami's reign, Pharaoh Atemu lounging next to a lotus pond, his queen laying comfortably beside him while his daughter danced attendance on them both. Cushions and fine ostrich feather fans were scattered around the throne, as if everyone had suddenly jumped up and run away as Yami and Bakura appeared.
Yami shut his eyes tightly against the scene, pressing his palms against his temples. Desperately he tried to stop the tears leaking down his cheeks. Unbidden, his mind and heart filled in the missing pieces. Himself, sitting proudly in the throne, his hair flattened and tied down at the nape of his neck, and the double-crown of Egypt resting on his head. The Crook and Flail of peace and justice, resting across his knees. One hand draped around Teana's shoulders while she sat on a cushion by his feet, her arms folded over one of his knees, leaning against him. His other hand resting on Shahi's head as she sat on a cushion on his other side, playing with one of the palace cats or perhaps carrying on an excited and rather one-sided conversation with one of the fan girls, who would have stood just behind them. Priests and guards would have lined both sides of the room. Often, if there were no disputes to settle and nothing to do, Jono would lean his spear against the wall, drop his serious captain-of-the-guard face, and sit down on the steps at the feet of his pharaoh. He and Shahi would play games together, or play-wrestle in front of the throne until Pharaoh laughed out loud. Sometimes, Seto would drop the priestly facade and sit down as well, and simply talk with his pharaoh as friends, not as lord and servant.
That's how it had been, that day. The day that changed everything and affirmed many destinies. Yami put a hand over his eyes, trying to block out the remembrances. None of the Elementals had attended court that day. Hatred and Time were hunting waterfowl. Fate had been instructing some of the young priestesses. The others, he didn't know where they had been, just that they hadn't been there.
With a quiet sob, Yami took off running, leaving Bakura behind as he hopped the shallow steps up to the dais and disappeared into the doorway that led to the palace's interior. Bakura watched him go with an understanding eye, and then took a long, sad look around the throne room himself.
Bakura's eyes came to rest on the throne, on the carved and painted figure of Princess Shahi, and he winced visibly. Almost in a trance, he went forward, until he was about halfway between the dais and the door. Slowly he got to his knees, spreading his palms across the floor where the marble was stained slightly red...
Abruptly he got to his feet again, and shook his head sharply to clear it. Walking forward again with what seemed to be an even stride, Bakura came to the foot of the stairs. He paused only a moment, and then climbed the five shallow steps until his feet came to rest in front of the throne. He stared at it for a long time. He was tempted to sit down, just for one moment, just to see how gold and plush felt, but he swallowed and pushed the desires away. He did reach out one trembling finger to just brush the painted black curls that covered the head of the little princess.
"Oh musume..."
Bakura smiled sadly, and one tear slid down his face to fall on the rich blue fabric of the cushion. It seemed to hang there for a moment before it sunk in, but Bakura had already turned away and stepped around the throne, heading for the archway that led deeper into the palace. Yami's running footsteps had long since faded away, but Bakura was not looking for his friend.
Almost as soon as he passed under the archway, Bakura peeled left and headed down a narrow, dark side-corridor. There were only two times he'd ever been in the palace, and only once had he ever gotten past the throne room. He knew this route by heart. It had been his death-march the last time he'd walked this path.
Bakura easily found the set of stairs, carved straight into the stone of the floor, heading down into darkness. A statue of Anubis guarded the entrance, and Bakura shivered slightly, his four-fingered hand twitching. He shook his head firmly and descended the stairs. He really wasn't sure why he was coming down here, just that it was really the only place in or around Yami's palace he cared to see.
The stairs spit him out in a long hallway lit by sputtering, oily torches. Heavy wooden doors greeted him on either side, but Bakura ignored them all, instead making for the room he knew lay at the end of the hall.
Strange, the last time he'd been down here, the dungeons had been full of men, all of them moaning and groaning. But now the only sounds were those of his own footsteps. Maybe there were no people here? Perhaps this was only an illusion of the places of the past, not the people. Surely, he'd have encountered some priests or guards by now. Perhaps he and Yami were the only things alive in this palace.
It was a chilling thought.
Bakura came to the end of the hallway at last. Unlike the rest of the cells in the dungeon, this one was special. Diabound had already been killed at this point, so there had been no need to fear him walking through walls. The only door this cell had was a metal grate, so people passing by could watch the torture of the thief that had plagued them so long.
Bakura sneered and pushed the grate open easily, stalking into the dungeon where he'd spent the last few days of his life. Directly across from the door were a pair of iron shackles attached to the wall, where he'd hung in agony for several days. Was it Bakura's imagination, or did the floor beneath look sticky with dried blood?
There, off to the left. The impromptu alter was still there, though it had a more permanent look to it, as if the High Priest had decided to keep it where it was. There were even still gold chains and a pair of silver shackles attached to one corner.
Bakura shut his eyes against the flashback, but it came anyway. Being hauled down from his place on the wall by rough hands he knew to be Mahaado's and Seto's; thrown to the floor, too beaten to move, and chained to the alter by the most ironic chains in the world; drifting in and out of consciousness as Atemu began the ritual; his one last moment of strength as he defied the pharaoh, even with his dying breath.
Bakura shuddered and waved a hand in front of his face, as if he could chase away the vision. He wasn't the same as he'd been back then. Neither was Yami. To his relief, the memories faded back into the shadows of his mind, and he opened his eyes again.
Scowling fiercely, he stepped forward and spat on the alter, which had a slightly sticky look to it, as if it had been coated in blood many times. Well that was new, anyway.
Bakura glanced around the dungeon again, growling. Shaking his head sharply, like some kind of feral dog, he stalked out of the cell and slammed the iron gate behind him. The sound of it echoed loudly down the silent halls, and abruptly all of Bakura's anger was gone in one shivering shudder.
One of the wooden doors leading to the common cells stood open. Bakura was sure they'd all been shut when he came down. Warily, Bakura walked up to it and peeked inside.
Instead of the small, bare cell he'd expected, Bakura found himself staring down a long tunnel, which sloped slightly upward. At the end of it, a warm light glittered, a light that seemed somehow... familiar. Not really aware of why he was doing it, Bakura moved forward into the tunnel to follow the light that beckoned to him.
Gleaming in the
moonlight
Cool and clean and all I've ever known,
All I've ever wanted.
Yami slowed, and eventually came to a stop, dashing tears out of his eyes as he gazed around himself in wonder. He'd dreamed of this place for so, so long... So many futile dreams. He knew in his heart that this place had been destroyed long, long ago, and yet here it was.
Home...
He started walking down the halls of his palace, remembering. He stopped again, suddenly, staring at a bank of empty wine jars, big ones, lined up against the wall waiting to be cleaned by servants...
On the edge of his hearing, Yami could have sworn he heard laughter, childish giggles, coming from the jars. He smiled at the fond memory of the day he and Mana had met, hiding in these very jars from Simon and Mahaado, respectively. A friendship that had carried for five thousand years...
Shaking his head, Yami made his feet begin to move again. After several more turns down the labyrinth of hallways, he came to a wide, arching doorway hung with fine curtains. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the sheered curtains of the entrance to his bedchambers, his fingers brushing against the cool, familiar marble of the arch.
Everything inside was exactly as he'd last seen it, five millennia before. Intellectually he knew that the priests must have cleaned out his chambers after his death, but it all looked as if it had never been touched. There was his sleeping couch, the four posts carved to resemble the Horus hawk, protector of Pharaoh. The arched doorway that led to his private balcony. The pillars that supported his ceiling, both them and the walls painted with scenes of vibrant life. Painted, in fact, by Yami himself and his queen, Teana. His sword still hanging on its rack on the wall, never having been bloodied once. In the corner, the pile of cushions and blankets where his two great hunting hounds had slept. The room almost felt empty without them there now.
And there, on his cosmetics table, on the wooden stand made especially to hold it, sat the double crown of Egypt. Yami stopped, and for a long time he just stared at it. This... This, sitting here in front of him, was a symbol of all he stood for, all he had been, all he once was, all he never could be. Stepping forward almost timidly, Yami reached forward, his fingers almost yearning to touch the crown. He picked it up, and to his surprise found his hands were shaking. He stared at it, but didn't put it on, as he surely wanted to. For years, this crown had been the center of his universe.
But that had all changed. Now it was ancient history, and himself only a footnote in the books. Now there was Yugi, the kind-hearted boy he loved as both brother and son. Now, there was a friendship with a tomb robber and a priest. Now, there was so much more to life than just a kingship.
With a sob, Yami let the crown slip from his fingers. He spun and fled, and he was out of the room before it had even hit the ground.
Sweet perfumes
of incense,
Graceful rooms of alabaster stone,
All I ever wanted!
This was my home...
When Bakura immerged from the tunnel, he was started to find himself in broad daylight. In fact, it nearly blinded him, and he threw up his arms to shield his eyes. Hadn't it been night when Mana had cast her spell? Ah well, it didn't really matter. Now his eyes were beginning to get used to the glare, and he dropped his arms. He gasped as he finally saw where the tunnel had dumped him out.
"It can't be!" Bakura's legs went weak under him, and he dropped to his hands and knees in the sand, staring at the village before him. "It's impossible!"
It was like it had been taken straight from his eight-year-old memories, resurrected from dust, raised from the sands of time. The village he'd watch be destroyed, the one he'd sworn to avenge, the one he'd been sure would never truly live again, except in the memories of a pair of twin boys. The place of his birth.
Kuru Eruna.
Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Pushing himself up from the ground, ignoring the sand and the grit that clung to his palms, Bakura took off running. The village was still some distance away, and he fell into an easy rhythm as he pounded across the sand, his breath coming in gasps. Sweat and tears alike rolled down his cheeks as he ran through the outskirts of the village. His mind had completely shut down now, his feet were guided completely by his heart.
He finally had to slow down and stop, gasping, at the town's center. He leaned against the waist-high wall around the well, his shoulders heaving. Drops of moisture, sweat or tears, slid off his chin and splashed quietly far below. Bakura blinked in surprise. Water in the well? He'd seen the soldiers push the wall in, poison the water with dirt and death. And yet, here it was, and Bakura was sure that if he were to dip out some water, it would be as cool and clear as he remembered.
Something nearby crashed, and Bakura jumped in surprise. He whirled around, just in time to see a cat jump out of an alley, yowling. Bakura blinked.
"Kettle?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. The cat bounded over and began to rub around his ankles, purring loudly. Bakura gaped at her. Kettle had been Jonathon's cat. If this was just an illusion of places, what was she doing here?
Bakura's eyes watered, and he took off across the sands again, leaving the cat behind. If Kettle was here, then maybe... Maybe...
His feet flew, his heart pounding as he ran by memory. The streets were all just the same, just as he remembered. He turned one last corner, and his vision began to blur. There, the house on the end... Same stupid striped cloth doorway, tattered edges swaying in the breeze. A battered oil lamp sitting unlit in one of the windows, waiting to chase away the shadows at night. A water jug sitting just outside the door, a design of swirls etched into the top, just under the rim. Inside, he knew, there would be a coarse woven rug on the floor, an oven for baking bread, a rickety wooden table and a single chair, and a straw palette back in one corner, big enough for two adults and two small children, and sometimes a cat...
Bakura burst through the meager door, his heart in his throat. If only... "Ammâh! Ammâh!!" His voice broke as he called for his mother, but the familiar house was empty.
"Ammâhhh!!"
With my father,
mother, brother,
Oh so noble, oh so strong!
Now I am home...
Yami finally slowed to a stop, unsure of where his flying feet had taken him. He'd fled his own rooms in grief, and simply run where his heart told him without really looking to see just where he was going. Now he didn't know where he was, save that he was still somewhere in the palace.
He smelled the answer first, drifting to him on a breeze barely strong enough to ruffle his hair. His eyes widened as he recognized the scent, and recognized why he didn't recognize these halls. This was the harem, the ladies' quarters, a place he'd been to only a few times in his life. The smell was a perfume, one that was very familiar to him. Familiar, and heartbreaking.
'Teana...'
He stumbled forward, his feet carrying him to the room where the scent originated. He stepped inside and then stopped, a flood of bittersweet memories and tears halting him in his tracks.
A gentle wind blew in from the balcony, ruffling the curtains draped around the bed. Dolls and stuffed toys sat on shelves that were barely waist-height to Yami, in perfect reach of a child. The walls were painted in bright, colorful circus scenes, tumblers and jugglers and dancers spilling across the room. A single, strong column stood in the middle of the room, supporting the ceiling. The pillar had been taken advantage of, and a long, padded bench was built all the way around it. And painted on the pillar...
Yami felt his eyes fill with tears. Far from the normal Egyptian style, the painting on the pillar was nearly life-like. There he stood, Pharaoh Atemu, but gone was his crown, his natural starburst of hair gracing his head instead. His beloved daughter Shahi sat oh his shoulders, laughing and pointing to a colorful bird just out of her reach. Teana stood beside them, with one hand on Shahi's back to steady her, the other laid gently on Yami's arm. All three were laughing, smiling, happy...
This was Shahi's nursery, just as it had always been. An arch in one wall led to Teana's room. Instead of simply handing Shahi over to a nursemaid after she'd been adopted, Teana had insisted that she care for the infant girl herself. It had turned out to be her only chance, for she and Yami had never had any children of their own, despite all the doctors efforts to get Teana to conceive. At last, reluctantly, Teana had suggested that Yami go to some of his other women, in hopes that they could produce him the heir she could not. But when a year passed and none of the others Yami lay with became pregnant, it was startlingly clear that Yami was the flawed one. But then Shahi had arrived on the palace steps, a gift from the gods, and it hadn't mattered that she was a girl, because she was an heir...
"Oh my daughter..." Yami moaned, his heart threatening to crack under the pressure. He and Teana had been together for eleven years, Shahi with them for five when Yami had died. He missed them terribly, more then he'd ever admit even to Yugi, and seeing Tea day in and day out and in love with Yugi just made it that much worse. "My queen..."
Walking across the room as if in a daze, Yami entered Teana's room, half expecting to see his queen and his daughter lounging on her bed, laughing and singing as they were accustomed to doing. Yami entered the room with his eyes half closed, hoping...
But no. This room was as empty as the last, and Yami felt his heart tear in longing. "Oh my angel..."
Throwing himself face-down on Teana's bed, Yami wept.
Here among my
trappings and belongings I belong,
And if anybody doubts it,
They couldn't be more wrong!
I am a sovereign Prince of Egypt,
A son of the proud history that's shown
Etched on every wall!
Bakura let out a sound that, had Ryou or Amoura been near, would have broken their hearts. It was something halfway between the cry of a kitten and a falcon's scream, something filled with rage and grief and heartache. Dropping to his knees in the center of the one-room house and pounding his clenched fists against the sand floor, Bakura let his sobs and wails bow his head and shoulders.
"Why?!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, tears rolling down his face to land on the dusty ground. "Why are you showing me home, making me remember, and yet not showing me those I love most of all?! Am I really so despised by the gods?! Jehovah, Ra, Osiris, please! Ammâh! Ammâhhh!!" [8]
Collapsing onto the straw pallet in the corner, where he and Jona and Ammâh and Abba had all slept cuddled like cats for so many years, Bakura wrapped his arms around himself and wept.
Surely this is all I ever wanted...
Ryou yawned, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. Where was he? Last he remembered...
His eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, his senses on full alert as he looked around for Mahaado in sheer terror. After a moment, when he realized that Mahaado was no where near him and he was back in his tent, he calmed down enough to pry his fingers from where they were gripping the edge of the cot. He could sense all the others in the largest tent, talking. Fate had checked in on him just before he'd woken up. Except...
Ryou blinked, wondering why Mana and Yami and Bakura were out in the middle of the desert near the door to the tomb. And... something wasn't quite right about Yami and Bakura...
Frowning, Ryou swung his legs over the edge of the cot and stood up, swaying slightly as he was hit with a sudden, but thankfully brief, dizzy spell. Making his way out of the tent, he walked toward where he could sense the trio of ancients. As he drew closer, his confusion only grew. Mana seemed all right, she was simply watching the other two, so whatever was wrong with them couldn't be particularly harmful. Otherwise Mana would be doing something about it. But what was wrong? Yami and Bakura seemed frozen in place, their shoulders shaking and their eyes filled with tears. When Ryou reached out tentatively to touch them telepathically, he couldn't quite reach them. It was like the lights were on, but no one was home.
"Ryou..."
Ryou turned to face Mana, unaware he'd stepped up beside her. His face was puzzled as he gestured at Yami and Bakura. "What's happened to them? Did Mahaado do something to them?!"
Mana shook her head, slightly bemused. "No, no, nothing like that. Mahaado is, is gone, and this is my thanks to them for helping me. I cast an illusion, so that in their own minds they can see their past. But it is only that, an illusion, and they see only the places, never the people long-dead, and that hurts them. But at the same time, just by making them remember and cry, I am giving them the best gift I can."
Ryou nodded thoughtfully. "I understand."
Mana smiled. "I thought you would."
The two stood in silence for several minutes. Then Mana put a gentle hand on Ryou's shoulder. "Child of Fate..."
Startled by the formality in her voice, Ryou turned to face her again. "Yes, magess?"
"Mahaado has moved on," she said quietly, looking down at her feet. "He has died a second time, and gone on to the afterlife. He's at peace now, in his right mind, just as he used to be. He's waiting for me in Roshai, and I want to join him."
Ryou's eyes widened as what she was asking dawned on him. He'd been in a lot of pain and only semi-conscious during Bakura's fight with Mahaado earlier that night, but he knew what Mana wanted from him. "Lady, I could never -"
"Please," She pressed her staff into his hands, and it occurred to him that she was probably crying. Silently, he cursed his lack of sight. Sighing deeply and shaking the hair out of his eyes, he took the staff from her. He stepped forward and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her against him. She hugged him in return, and then they stepped apart. Ryou took the staff in both hands and raised it over his head, trying to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. He paused.
"Mana... Thank you, for all you've done for us, for me. Without you, I probably wouldn't be here right now -"
Mana placed a gentle hand over his lips to shush him, her face kind. "Fare thee well, Ryou Bakura. May your heart guide you always, and your ka stay strong."
Ryou smiled a little sadly at the old Egyptian blessing. "Fate bless you, Mana."
"She already has."
Bringing the staff swinging down over his head in a wide arc, Ryou smashed the end of it against the rocky ground. The knob on the end cracked and shattered, and with one land feather-light touch across the back of Ryou's hand, Mana faded away.
Across the sea a
pale moon rises --
The ships have come to carry you home.
Bakura lifted his head what could have been hours later, blinking as the beautiful familiar scenery began to turn to mist and melt away. "No!" he cried, scrambling to his feet. "No, let me stay! Please!"
"Thomas, you don't belong here, you never did."
Spinning around, Bakura's eyes widened. A trio of figures stood in the mist, just out of his reach. A tall man, with dark hair and weather-beaten skin, dressed in a tattered robe that had once been white. In his arms, he held a little girl about three or four years old, with lighter hair and paler skin. The girl peeked at Bakura from around her hands, and Bakura could have sworn he heard her giggling. But those two were blurry, as if they were only barely there. The woman who stood in front of them, however...
Long, white hair was bound back into a loose braid, from which some strands were escaping to hang in her face. She wore a long dress with a torn hem, with a light shawl draped over her head. Her hands, though callused, seemed to Bakura to be the softest things he remembered about his old life. And her eyes... brown eyes... his eyes, Ryou's eyes. They were filled with love and longing, and she looked at Bakura with a wisdom that made him feel sure she knew everything he'd ever done.
He bowed his head, hiding his face in sudden shame. If she knew what a bastard he'd been... How he'd turned away from the gods... How he'd killed... How he'd hurt Ryou... She'd never love him again.
"Look at me, my son."
The soft voice made him lift his head, meeting his mother's eyes. He bit his lip when he realized she was crying, though it was only a moment before he realized he was too. "Ammâh... If you knew..."
"I do know," she said, smiling gently. "But what's important is you are no longer like that. You are still my son, and I still love you."
Bakura felt another rush of tears. "Mama..."
She stepped forward, and for just a moment, as Mana passed through the veil between life and death, Bakura's mother was able to step out of the mists of time and pull her stunned son into her arms. "Never forget, Thomas ben Kadin, that we love you." Her tears were soaking into his hair, burning his neck as he clung to her, never wanting to let go. "I'm so proud of you, my son."
And then she was gone, banished back into the mists. Bakura snatched for her, a scream of rage tearing itself from his throat as his mother was taken from him again. But it was too late, and Kuru Eruna was gone too, and Bakura was falling... Falling like his tears...
All I ever wanted...
Yami moaned as the vision began to fade, wishing it would last just a little bit longer... Just a bit, so he could have more time to mourn...
He sat up on the edge of the bed, wiping tears from his eyes as things began to mist and fade. Something flashed out of the corner of his eye, and his head snapped around. For just a moment, he thought he saw a lithe child's body disappear around a corner, and he thought he heard her giggling...
Sitting on the table near the corner where she'd been was a small, handheld bronze mirror that hadn't been there when Yami came in. He recognized it instantly. He'd given it to Teana to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary.
Getting up from the bed, Yami walked over and picked up the mirror, running his fingers over the carved form of the goddess Bastet on the handle. He hugged it to his chest with a deep, sad sigh as the palace faded away.
All I ever... wanted...
[End music - All I Ever Wanted]
It was only a minute or so after Mana faded away that Yami and Bakura began to come out of the trance. Both of them were holding something, Ryou was surprised to realize. He couldn't tell what, though. They must be mostly metal, or something. "Are you guys okay?" he asked quietly, putting a hand on Bakura's shoulder.
Bakura shuddered a little, flicking the last of the tears out of his eyes. It made him feel a little bit better to see that Yami had been crying too. "Yeah, I'm okay," he said after a deep breath. "How 'bout you, Yami?"
"I'm fine," the pharaoh said, a bit distantly as he stared down at the polished bronze hand mirror in his hands. "How in the world did I bring this out of the illusion with me?"
Bakura blinked and moved his other hand from where it had been clutched against his chest. Slowly he opened it to reveal a delicate beaded necklace resting in the palm of his hand. It didn't look particularly expensive, just blue and green glass beads strung together with a baked clay medallion. "I must have grabbed it when I was trying to reach..." he trailed off and swallowed, remembering the necklace as the one his mother had worn every day of her life. He'd never seen her without it. Carved on the medallion was what just seemed to be a decorative design, but Bakura recognized it as Hebrew writing, even though he didn't remember enough to translate it.
"Reach who?" Yami asked, his voice unexpectedly soft. The pharaoh's eyes were sad. He knew exactly what Bakura was feeling.
"Ammâh." Bakura said softly. "Mother. I saw her, Yami. She said... she said she was proud of me, in spite of everything I've done..." He sobbed softly, squeezing his eyes closed. At this point he didn't really care whether Yami saw him cry or not. 'Oh mother...'
A moment later he felt Ryou's arms wrap around him, hugging him from behind, the telepath's face pressed into Bakura's back. Bakura's eyes snapped open in surprise, though, when he felt Yami's arms around him too. The pharaoh's eyes were misty too as he hugged his friend. "What mother wouldn't be proud of a son like you?"
"Yami..."
Yami shook his head slightly, forestalling any further words. For a minute the trio just stood there bathed in moonlight, and then they pulled apart, although Bakura kept one arm around Ryou's shoulders. After a brief glance around, Yami sighed sadly. "Mana is...?"
Ryou nodded. "Yes, she asked me to." He held out the broken staff respectfully, and Yami took it with another sigh.
"Yami, what was it she called you?" Bakura asked. "Amennosis?"
A small smile quirked the corner of Yami's mouth. "My birth name. Atemu was my throne name. Mana and I met a long time before I became pharaoh."
In the silence that followed, Ryou yawned loudly. The other two chuckled. "Maybe it's time for bed," Bakura suggested, and the trio started back toward the tents.
Dawn will turn
To silver glass
"Mana..."
It didn't hurt. Bless Anubis, it didn't hurt. She watched as everything around her faded away into gray mist. She could see Ryou for a moment longer, kneeling in the sand and carefully picking up some of the shards of her staff, but then he, too, turned pale and faded.
"Mana..."
For a moment she heard nothing, and then all at once a loud roaring filled her ears. She blinked as the fog in her eyes began to clear. She found herself staring up at a great city in the midst of an endless, gray-green plane. Thundering water rushed by her on all sides, and she realized she was standing on a dock of some kind just outside the last few sprawling buildings. This city had no walls, and the architecture was decidedly muddled. It was like every great culture that ever was had decided to come together and build a city. Above it all rose a towering palace of white marble.
"Mana..."
She turned so quickly that she nearly lost her balance and fell into the water. Behind her, tethered to the end of the dock, was a ship. It was wooden, styled like an Egyptian vessel, though more docks with every kind of ship imaginable stretched out as far as the eye could see on either side. The mast was a great, heavy trunk of gray wood, the trunk of one of the last mallorn trees. The sail was white, painted with the golden sun disk of Ra and the sacred scarab, guardian of the horizon. Strange for a ship that size, there was only one helmsman. She stood ready at the tillar, light blue hair blowing softly around her in the breeze.
"Mana..."
All this Mana took in an instant, before her eyes were drawn to the familiar figure standing by the side of the ship. Her eyes feasted on him, drunk in the familiar proud stance and easy smile, both of which had been so painfully absent these last thousands of years. Dressed in his priest's robes but missing his headdress, Mahaado grinned at her, his brown hair blowing into his face. Mana felt her eyes fill with tears of joy. This was her lover, not the shell of a man who had tried to kill his own pharaoh a few scant hours before.
"Mana... Let's go home."
She took the hand he offered her, and suddenly she was in his arms. They were together again, and always would be.
Before she lost herself too much in him, Mana turned back toward Roshai and lifted a hand to cast one last spell. "I grant them a look at the past, as it truly was."
To her surprise, Mahaado stepped up beside her and lifted a hand as well. "I grant them a dream, so they may know and forgive."
"Grant them peace." Mahaado and Mana whispered in unison as the oarswoman cast them away from the docks. Then with a sigh of contentment they sought each other's arms.
"I'm so sorry," Mahaado whispered into her hair, hugging her tightly against him with strong arms. "So sorry for all the pain I've caused you, my love. I hope Pharaoh can find it in his heart to forgive me..."
Mana couldn't help but smile against his chest. "You'll have the opportunity to ask him yourself in a few short decades. Both he and the tomb robber are mortals now."
Mahaado pulled back to stare at her in surprise. "Gods above! It seems I have a lot of catching up to do."
Mana smiled and snuggled against him again. "We have all the time in the worlds."
For a long time they were silent as the oarswoman guided the skiff north and Roshai faded into the distance. "What's it like, Mahaado?" Mana asked after awhile. "Finally being granted death after so many years of half-life?"
Mahaado smiled and leaned down to kiss her. "Like waking from a very, very long dream."
A light on the
water,
All souls pass.
Ryou muttered something, snuggling deeper into his pillow as he drifted into dreams. A moment later he blinked, finding himself standing in a courtyard of some kind. It was obviously a dream, as he could see. It only took him a moment to notice several things. First, he was standing at the foot of a broad stairway that apparently led to a pharaoh's palace, as that's what was looming over him. Second, behind him was an ancient city, bustling with life, and beyond that, the desert. Third, Yami and Bakura (he knew it was Yami and Bakura from his own time because they were wearing modern clothes) were standing just ahead of him, staring up at the palace in wonder. Quickly, Ryou went up to them. "So when are we?"
"My reign, I'd say..." Yami said distantly.
Bakura blinked. "You're having this dream too, Ryou?"
The telepath shrugged. "Apparently."
All three of them became aware of a commotion behind them, and they turned. Yami's eyes widened, and Bakura cursed. "Oh shit! Don't tell me we're watching the day I think we're watching!"
"I think we are..." Yami said, biting his lip.
Over the top of the small hill that separated the palace from the rest of the city, a cluster of people came. Most of them wore the uniform of a palace guard, save for two. The guards scattered at a flash of light from one of the two, and they came closer. It soon became obvious who the disgruntled invaders were. One wore a long red overcoat, scars across one tanned cheek standing out against white hair, the Millennium Ring glowing brightly against his bare chest. The other one, a woman, wore a tattered skirt and tank top, her long pale hair windblown and tangled. Both were barefoot.
"Damn," Bakura muttered, watching his past self stalk past them. "Was I really that ugly?"
"Come on," Yami tugged on his arm, pointing to where Ryou was already following the duo. "My guess is that no one from this time will be able to see or hear us, so let's go!"
Bakura paused, something strange in the back of his eyes. "Yami, do we really want to? We already know how it ends..."
Yami bit his lip and looked away. "I know... Or, we know how our sides end. Maybe we're supposed to watch each other."
Bakura scowled, looking for a moment like his old self. "Well I sure don't want to watch my half again. Whatever the hell works." Together, the two sprinted for where Bekhura and Anjil were already disappearing into the palace, and Ryou was waiting for them at the top of the steps.
The three of them entered the palace together, running toward the throne room. Yami and Bakura knew that was where the drama would unfold. Sliding between the bodies of guards and priests, who were all clamoring to get to the scene of the trouble, the trio emerged into the room just behind Bekhura. Tugging Ryou and Yami with him, Bakura circled until they were standing halfway between Bekhura and Anjil and Atemu on his throne.
The pharaoh was, indeed, on his throne, a look of shock on his face as he half-stood up. High Priest Seto and Mahaado flanked him on one side, Captain of the Guard Jono and one of the lesser guards who looked a lot like Duke on the other. Teana, kneeling at his feet, shrieked and held out her arms to the toddler Shahi, who ran to her and hid her face in her 'mother's' dress. Seeing this, Anjil let out a small mewling sound, and Bekhura clenched his teeth in anger, his fingers twitching toward something tucked into his belt.
"Pharaoh!" Bekhura shouted in a voice that easily carried over all the noise in the room. "It's time for you to pay for all the pain and suffering you've caused!"
Too fast to see, Bekhura snatched the knife out of his belt and threw it. Teana screamed, and Seto shouted something, but it was too late. Bekhura's aim was true. Except...
Pharaoh Atemu let out a sound halfway between a startled gasp and a wail as he found himself pushed aside, out of the knife's path. Then he shouted in horror as he saw who it was that had taken his place. Jono slumped to the ground at Atemu's feet, gasping for breath as he raised one shaking hand toward the knife hilt that was imbedded in his chest. With a cry, Atemu dropped to his knees beside his captain and friend. "Jono, don't leave me!"
But the captain was too far gone to hear.
Hope fades
Into the world of night.
Through shadows falling,
Out of memory and time.
Slowly, Seto knelt down and gently closed Jono's eyes, murmuring a quiet prayer as he rested a comforting hand on Atemu's shoulder. The pharaoh was shaking in rage, and before Seto could stop him, he wrapped his hands around the hilt of the sword that hung from Jono's belt. Yanking it out of its sheath, Atemu stood up, murder burning behind his eyes as he glared at Bekhura.
"Tomb robber, you've gone too damn far."
With a yowl that was more feline than human, Atemu raised the sword and ran, intending to impale the smirking Bekhura where he stood. The look on the tomb robber's face changed to one of sheer terror as he saw the pharaoh charging him with drawn sword. His terror only grew as a moment later Anjil darted in between him and Atemu, her arms spread and her expression defiant. "You will not touch him, pharaoh, without going through me first!"
Atemu skidded to a stop, eyes wide, but his arms were already in motion, and he couldn't stop them even if he wanted. Anjil screamed as the tip of the sword caught her left shoulder, tearing its way across her to her right hip. It was a shallow cut, since Atemu had managed to bring himself up short, but all the same...
She toppled backward, and Bekhura caught her, a look of horror on his face. "Meri!" He cradled her in his arms as he kneeled on the marble, her blood spilling across his hands to stain the stone. "Meri please, don't die on me!"
Mahaado was suddenly beside Atemu, growling a little and reaching for the sword Atemu carried. "Allow me to finish him off, m'lord pharaoh."
"No..." Atemu said, a strange look on his face. He'd never seen Bekhura look so vulnerable... "No, it is dishonorable to slay a man while he mourns his love. Allow him a moment, Mahaado."
Mana stepped forward and cast Bekhura a slightly sympathetic glance, tugging Mahaado away from the scene. Ryou shuddered a little as the mage passed out of sight, and bit his lip at the looks of shadowed sadness on Yami and Bakura's faces. "Guess this kinda explains why you two used to hate each other so much, huh?"
"You have no idea," Yami croaked, his eyes wide. Somehow, all the years had managed to dull the pain of this day, this hour, but now it was all coming back...
"Bek... hura..." Anjil pleaded for her lover's attention. "You must... escape... save yourself... please, my love..."
Don't say,
"We have come now to the end."
White shores are calling
"No!" Bekhura protested. "No, I won't leave you!"
"Go...!" Anjil pleaded, tears filling her eyes not entirely from the pain. "Please, love..." Slowly her eyes slid closed, and she fell limp. Bekhura hugged her against him, her blood staining the Ring and his robe an even deeper red. He sobbed quietly, and then gently laid her down on the marble, rising to his feet to look Atemu in the eye. The pharaoh tightened his grip on Jono's sword, his face grim. This was it...
"Pharaoh," Bekhura hissed, his fists clenched. "Catch me if you can!"
And then he turned and ran, the Millennium Ring clearing a blazing path before him. Yami only hesitated a moment, glancing back at Ryou and Bakura before running after the past tomb thief.
Ryou picked himself up from where he'd face-faulted at Bekhura's words. "You ran?!?"
Bakura shrugged self-consciously. "It was Anjil's last request, okay?"
"After him!" Atemu was shouting, all but hopping up and down in fury. "BRING HIM BACK!"
The guard who had stood with Jono on the dais, the one who looked like Duke, saluted smartly and left the room, followed by many of the other soldiers. Atemu shuddered and sighed, looking sadly at Anjil, and then turning toward Jono. "Someone get them to the House of Beautification," he said tiredly. "Yes, the wench too. Just do it." [9]
"My lord!" Atemu turned to see Teana kneeling next to Anjil, and balked slightly.
"Teana, get up, you'll get filthy!"
"My lord," Teana repeated firmly, cutting him off. A look of strong determination was in her eyes, the look that Atemu had first fallen in love with. It gave him pause, and he motioned for her to speak. "My lord, she lives! Please, allow me to care for her, we cannot just leave her to die."
"Nay," Atemu sighed. "We cannot. Not even a wench. Take her to the Lady Teana's rooms, and send for the healers! Quickly! Seto, Mahaado, Karimu, to me."
As the three priests hurried forward to join their lord, Ryou was forced to shake Bakura by the shoulder. "Oniisan, oniisan, are you okay? Say something!"
"Sh-she survived..." Bakura's eyes were wide, and filled with tears as he watched several men carry the wounded Anjil out of the room, Teana hovering worriedly over her. "She survived... Oh my love..."
Ryou smiled softly and put a hand on his arm, gently guiding him toward where Atemu was leaving the throne room, trailed by his three priests.
"...and the ritual should be ready to perform. But I want him broken first, you hear me? He has to pay for all he's done, for what he did to Jono." Atemu's fists were clenched in anger as he stalked forward, the priests and Ryou and Bakura having to hurry to keep up. "I don't care how you do it, just break him and keep him alive! I'll seal these Shadow Games if it's the last thing I do, and that bastard tomb robber's going to help me, whether he like it or not!"
Bakura shuddered, looking grim at some memory, and Ryou bit his lip worriedly. Poor Bakura... What had he gone through? The telepath had the uneasy feeling he was about to find out.
Meanwhile, Yami had followed Bekhura out of the palace, and the tomb robber was currently leading the pursuing guards on a merry little chase through the city, scaring peasants left and right. Little by little, though, the guards seemed to be gaining. Finally, they caught him, tackling the thief to the sand. He struggled and kicked, cursing and biting, but ten against one is no good in odds. The Duke-looking one kicked Bekhura sharply in the ribs, and Yami winced a bit as he heard something crack and Bekhura yelled, instinctively curling up in a ball. The guards kicked him several more times for good measure, making sure he'd stay still before they bound his wrists tightly and forced him to his feet, Duke pressing a spear against his back to get him moving.
"You picked the wrong captain to kill, bastard." Duke hissed, purposely pressing the point of the spear into Bekhura's back until it drew blood. "You're lucky pharaoh wants you back alive."
Bekhura just shuddered, his sides heaving as they began dragging him kicking and screaming back toward the palace, Yami trailing along behind, invincibly. Any time Bekhura would yank at his bonds or buck or try to run, one of the guards, usually Duke, would knock him to the ground or slash at him with a spear, getting him back on track. Yami noted rather wryly that Duke had some serious anger issues over Jono's death and made a mental note to ask the modern Duke Devlin not to go into any homicidal rages, for everyone's sakes.
"Thomas!!"
Yami was snapped out of his thoughts by a hoarse shout from somewhere off to the left. Turning, he saw a group of about five Hebrew slaves dragging a statue across the sand. One of them dropped his rope and darted toward the group of guards and their captive. He had white hair, but his eyes were brilliant green...
The last thing the guards were expecting was a hysterical slave to try and get at Bekhura, and they were so befuddled that Jonathon managed to push between them and drop to his knees beside Bekhura, who had fallen to his knees the moment the guards had let him stop. His ribs were beginning to bruise badly, and several spear wounds marred the skin of his back and sides. Hearing his brother's voice, Bekhura lifted his head, revealing tired eyes and a bleeding nose.
"Thomas, what have they done to you?" Jonathon whispered in horror, his eyes wide. He reached up to brush his brother's hair away from his face. "Oh Thomas..."
"Don't call me that," Bekhura growled, but his voice was gruffer then usual, and his eyes gave him away. "Jona, get away from me before these dumb guards decide you're a threat! Atemu wants me bad, and I... I think my career's over."
"Don't say that!" Jonathon insisted, his hands on his brother's shoulders, squeezing until Bekhura winced. "You'll get away, you always do!"
"Not this time..." Bekhura whispered. "They got Anjil... She's..." He shook his head sharply. "There's no reason to go on. Tell me, Jona, what will happen to me when I die?"
"Thomas..." Jonathon blinked back tears, having never seen his little brother like this before. He bit his lip. "Jehovah's angels will come and carry you to paradise." he repeated his mother's words dutifully, though she'd been dead a good thirteen years.
Bekhura laughed harshly, and then began coughing, hacking up blood from his broken ribs. "Is that what you believe? Fool. There is no Jehovah, no angels, nothing. After I'm dead, I'll be thrown to the crocodiles. If Atemu even waits for me to die." His eyes softened a little as he saw the look of horror on Jonathon's face. "It's been a good life, ank. I think maybe I'm ready to die. But what about you? When you die, who will mourn you? Who will even care?"
Jonathon swallowed hard, unused to his brother talking this way. "My sons..." he started, but Bekhura was snickering again.
"Sons, pah. You think any of you, you or your sons, will survive long enough to mourn for anyone else? My daughter knows nothing of me! My Anjil is dead! No one will care! Life is death, Jona, especially under the rule of Atemu!" he spat the name like a curse, and one of the guards kicked him again. He doubled up, moaning, as Jonathon cried out in horror.
"A gift..." Bekhura wheezed, catching Jonathon's attention again. "A gift, my brother. Looking after you again. You'll get a proper afterlife, and maybe someday we'll meet again..."
"Th-the Shadow Realm..." Jonathon stuttered, his eyes wide. Then his face softened, and if looked like he might cry again. "Oh Bekhura." Leaning forward, Jonathon wrapped his arms around his little brother, hugging him gently as between them the Millennium Ring glowed brightly, and then Jonathon slumped to the ground as the guards shouted and hit at Bekhura to get him moving again.
"Farewell, brother..."
Yami watched the entire scene in morbid fascination. He'd never dreamed how close Bekhura and Jonathon must have really been. Just watching that had been enough to tear at Yami's heartstrings. Something bothered him, though... He looked thoughtfully at Jona's soulless body, lying in the dust. "Sons of Jonathon, and a daughter of Bekhura, eh? Well well."
You and I will
meet again.
And you'll be here in my arms,
Just sleeping.
Yami followed them back to the palace, and then met up with Ryou and Bakura in the throne room again as Bekhura was dragged toward the stairs that led down to the dungeon. To Yami's surprise, Bakura was shaking slightly as he stared after his past self.
"No way in hell am I going down there!" he hissed, eyes wide. "No way. Not again."
Ryou nodded, one hand laid soothingly on his bog brother's shoulder. "It's okay Bakura, we're not going to make you. It's fine." The telepath glanced at Yami. "What comes next?"
Yami frowned in thought. "I know for the next several days I was busy readying the magic's to seal away the Shadow Games, and Bekhura was down in the dungeons being tortured. We're not really going to have to hang around here for another three days, are we?"
As if his words had been a trigger, the scenery around them began to blur and fuzz, like a camera that was out of focus. A moment later it snapped back into sharp focus, and all three found themselves standing in the corner of a dungeon cell. Directly across from them was a stone alter, a pair of silver and gold shackles hanging from one corner. In the top was a slab of stone with carved slots for all the Millennium Items. All of them except the Puzzle and the Rod had already been fitted into place, including the Ring. Bekhura was shackled to the wall behind the alter, hanging limply by his wrists and groaning every now and then. He had been tortured indeed. The flesh on his arms and legs was torn and bleeding. An intricate pattern of burns and welts covered his chest. The way blood was dripping down the wall and forming a pool by his feet, his back had to be in tatters. His face was torn, the old scars across one cheek forcibly reopened, his nose twisted, one eye slashed and scoured shut. Ryou shuddered and had to look away, sure that the sight would be giving him nightmares. Bakura just shuddered and shook his head, rubbing one hand over his face as if to make sure it was indeed still whole.
The door to the cell opened, and Bekhura shifted slightly, perhaps afraid of more torture. Atemu strode in dressed in full royal robes, a determined look on his face. Seto, Mahaado, Mana, and Karimu followed him in, Karimu shutting the door behind them. Atemu gestured to his priests, and Seto and Mahaado moves forward. Seto unlocked the fetters holding Bekhura to the wall, and Mahaado grabbed the thief, throwing him down roughly next to the alter. Kneeling swiftly, Seto forced the tomb robber's wrists into the shackles attached to the alter, although it didn't look like Bekhura would be going anywhere very soon.
Again Atemu gestured, and Seto sighed, pulling the Millennium Rod out of his robes. Carefully he fitted it into its place on the alter, and then stepped back. Atemu looked everything over and then nodded, apparently satisfied. He pulled the Puzzle off over his head, and made to place it on the alter, but Seto put a hand on his arm.
"My lord," Kaiba's ancestor said, a strange, regretful look on his face. "Are you sure?"
"This is the only way." Atemu said firmly, and then his eyes softened a little. "Take care of Shahi, Seto. You're the only one I can trust."
Seto nodded and stepped back, swallowing with difficulty as he watched his pharaoh place the Puzzle on the center of the alter. The whole thing began to glow, and Atemu began to chant. After a brief moment, the priests took up the chant as well. The glow spread down the shackles and over Bekhura's hands, creeping up his arms. The tomb robber screamed, trying to pull away from the alter. "Damn you Atemu!!"
Atemu didn't even pause in the chanting, and slowly he reached out to rest one hand on the Puzzle. The glow began to spread across him as well, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. The priests were chanting louder now, and faster, as Bekhura writhed next to the alter, trying to escape. For his own part, Atemu stood calmly, knowing that this was what had to be done.
What can you see
on the horizon?
Why do those white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises --
The ships have come to carry you home.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the glow began to fade away. Bekhura screamed one last time as the last of his life force was ripped way from him, and then he fell limp at the foot of the alter, breathing shallow, his eyes wide and unseeing.
Atemu's eyes drifted closed and he wavered on his feet. Seto was beside him before he could fall, catching his pharaoh and looking down at him sorrowfully. After a long moment he looked up and addressed his fellow priests. "Prepare a place for pharaoh to rest until his body runs itself out. Without his soul, it will die in a matter of weeks. Inform Lady Teana of his noble sacrifice," his voice caught, but he forced himself to go on. "And begin funeral preparations for our pharaoh."
"What about the thief?" Mahaado asked, contempt obvious in his voice.
"I will deal with him." Seto said solemnly, handing Atemu over to Karimu, who bowed and then left. Drawing his belt knife, Seto swiftly kneeled down beside Bekhura and deftly slit his throat, scowling the whole time. As Bekhura's breathing slowed and his eyes dimmed farther, Seto got to his feet, wiping off his knife and grumbling. "Soulless tomb robbers laying around only cause problems. I shall deal with the body as well, hands off Mahaado. Mana, take the Items to their appropriate places. They are no more use to us."
The priestess nodded and gathered the Millennium Items, taking her leave a minute later. "Yes, lord."
"Leave him be, Mahaado," Seto said, seeing the way Mahaado was eyeing Bekhura's body. "He will be given his due, and I will make sure he never bothers us again."
Mahaado scowled, but bowed stiffly to the high priest. "As you wish." He turned to go, but Seto called him name, and he paused at the door. "Yes, Lord Sethos?"
Seto looked thoughtful. "Go see if the foreign girl is still in my father's prison. If so, release her and have her brought to me."
Mahaado cocked an eyebrow. "By whose order, Seto? Your father will not listen to me or you."
Seto straightened up to his full height, one hand resting on the alter. In that moment, Yami saw how noble he really was.
"By order of Pharaoh."
Surprise warred with shock on Mahaado's face for a moment, and finally he just bowed. "Yes, pharaoh."
And all will turn
To silver glass
Mahaado left, and Seto turned away from the door, scowling down at Bekhura's body. Things began to blur and fade again, and a moment later Ryou blinked his eyes, sighing when he realized he was awake again, back in his world of darkness. Sitting up on his cot, he sensed that Yami and Bakura were both waking up as well, though no one else in the camp was stirring. "Bakura?" he asked softly.
Across the tent, Bakura sat up on his own cot, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. "Hai Ryou? Did you have that strange dream too?"
Ryou nodded, just at the flap of their tent opened and Yami slid inside. "I guess we all did."
Before Bakura could say anything more, Yami had crossed the tent and grabbed Bakura roughly by the collar, jerking him upward so they were nose-to-nose. "Shahi was your daughter!" he accused, eyes narrow. "I should have expected, as light as her hair was, but I just assumed she was the daughter of a foreign prostitute. You knew and never told me, tomb robber! You knew!"
Bakura met his gaze unflinchingly, even a little scornfully, his eyes serious. "You knew my Anjil lived!" he countered. "You knew she didn't die from the wound you gave her, and yet you never saw fit to tell me!" Yami was at a loss for words momentarily, and Bakura's expression softened a little. "Pharaoh, how would you have felt knowing that you'd adopted a tomb thief's daughter? Think about it. Three years ago you spat on the ground I walked on. I didn't want your memories of her to be tarnished by who her parents were. That is why I never told you."
Slowly Yami let go of Bakura. "I suppose I can see the logic in that." He chuckled quietly and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh the irony of it all..." For a few minutes there was silence in the tent.
Bakura licked his lips thoughtfully. "Ryou, how would you like to go on a small fieldtrip today?"
"Where to?" Ryou asked.
"Kuru Eruna."
Ryou and Yami both blinked in surprise. "Bakura, are you sure-"
"Yes." Bakura said quietly. "If you don't want to come Ryou, it's fine. But..." His eyes drifted to where his mother's necklace was lying on top of his suitcase a few paces away.
"I understand," Ryou said, smiling. Something had clicked just then, a piece of the cosmic puzzle falling neatly into place. "Yeah, I'll go with you."
"When are you going to leave?" Yami asked.
"Right now." Both white haired boys chorused at once. Yami looked a little surprised, and Bakura laughed. "We'll be back before dinner Yami, no frets." He got up and stretched, and then headed outside to relieve himself and maybe take a quick shower before they left. Ryou bit his lip and motioned for Yami to come closer.
"Actually, I don't think we will. Be back, I mean." The telepath said quietly. "Not today. Something is wrong... Something is very wrong somewhere else, and I think Bakura and I are supposed to go fix it. We may not be back for a very long time."
Yami looked shocked for a moment, then sighed and smiled. "I suppose I should be getting used to this from you two. Be safe, okay?"
Ryou flashed him a grin and stood up. "Aren't we always?"
A light on the
water
Grey ships pass
Into the west.
[End music - Into the West]
It was only a ten minute drive from the dig to what was left of Kuru Eruna. The ruins of the well at the center of the village was about all there was, since most of the buildings had been mud brick and had worn away long ago. Bakura sighed as he stopped the jeep and got out, running a hand over the well wall. "I thought there'd be more..."
"Nothing can stay the same," Ryou said quietly, quoting his mother.
Bakura smiled a little, lost in thought. "I remember Jona and I ganging up on the village bully once and pushing him into this well. We didn't know who'd kill us first, him, his mother, or our father. It was a good childhood, I guess. Better then most..."
Ryou let him ramble awhile, half-listening to him as he tried to figure out what could be wrong with the fabric of the universe. It was making a strange buzzing in his ears, so loud he was surprised Bakura couldn't hear it. "Bakura," he said at last, breaking into his brother's memories. "Bakura, night before last, while you and Yami were visiting the pyramids, I had a vision."
"I remember you telling me about that," Bakura agreed. "You said you'd talk about it later."
"It's later." Ryou said, drawing a deep breath and resisting the urge to rub his ears. The buzzing was getting louder, and higher pitched. Something was definitely wrong with the realms. Again. "It was just a jumble, images and voices... Something very old, and yet very young. But one thing was clear. Jonathon was the one who told me."
Bakura's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he looked around, as if expecting his twin to pop out of the sand. "How's that possible?"
Ryou shrugged. "I think that the afterlife is getting a bit too close to the living world...the veil is thinning, he told me."
Bakura groaned. "We are going to be in a lot of shit..."
"Thomas!"
Bakura nearly jumped out of his skin. "Holy hells of Amun-Ra, Jonathon! Don't do that!"
"Sorry. Now listen up, because it's hard to communicate like this. It would make more sense to talk to Ryou directly, but I couldn't resist giving you a surprise....now. The Shadow Realm is starting to loom over what is best described as the 'mirror realms' and it's all gonna go to hell very soon. Your hikari needs to get there and help them set things right."
"And how do you suggest he does that?"
"That's the fun part, I have no clue. Maybe Fate will lend a hand?"
Bakura blinked. "How do you know about Fate?"
"I just do, so don't get all puffed up, Thomas."
"I've told you not to call me that."
"Right, right. Bakura, Bekhura, whatever. You're still Thomas no matter what....but now I need to leave you, it's getting too hard to speak to you."
"Wait! Jonathon, what about--" But Jonathon was gone.
"Bakura?" Ryou asked, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.
Bakura sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "My brother's a pain."
Ryou smiled. He knew Jonathon couldn't resist any sort of temptation to tease or embarrass his little brother. His expression soon turned serious again. "Anything new?"
"He's insisting that you find a way to one of these 'mirror realms' where the trouble is....and he mentioned that Fate might be able to lend a hand in that area...."
"I suppose..." Ryou put a hand over the Ring.
"What's wrong Ryou?" Bakura moved closer to the blind boy and put an arm around him. "You look pale. Are you feeling alright?"
Ryou closed his eyes. "....I'm scared, Bakura. I've done so much fighting, and gotten so close to getting killed or losing someone...I'll help these people if I can, of course...but I'm still afraid...."
"That's okay, Ryou." Bakura drew his former host and who he now fondly thought of and referred to as his younger brother into a hug. "I'm surprised you've lasted this long...aibou." He used the title fondly.
Ryou grinned a bit, appreciating Bakura's efforts. "Arigatou, mou hitori no boku." He responded and they shared a laugh. Though Bakura was not the spirit of the Ring anymore and had not been for some time now, they still occasionally used the yami and hikari nicknames for one another, kinda like a private joke within their original group of friends.
In front of them, the sun was just rising. The light shimmered off the sand, causing a heat wave effect. Both boys felt a cool breeze, and Ryou smiled as he sensed his mother.
"You must help to heal the balance, Child of Fate, or all is lost."
The wind suddenly kicked up, sending a swirl of sand into the air. When it dropped away, Kuru Eruna was an empty ruin once more.
And so began another adventure for the Child of Fate and his brother-yami. That tale is already well recorded in Ebony Kuroneko's book Tarnished Soul, so I will not rewrite it here. Ryou and Bakura leave my reach for a time, now, so I will pass on to other things until they join us again.
-()-
[1] - modern Arabic is based on ancient Egyptian, but it is not the same language. Yami and Bakura are actually trilingual, they speak Egyptian, Arabic, and Japanese. Both of them are also working on learning French and English.
[2] - Shepherd's Hotel appears in another one of my Egypt-based fanfics, Hot Sands Warm Arms.
[3] "...burn like Shishio." - Shishio is the main villain of the Kyoto arc of Rurouni Kenshin. He's completely wrapped in bandages, because during the Meiji revolution he was caught by his enemies and burned alive. :) Not a pretty sight.
[4] Teppic and Ptraci - Major kudos to anyone who can name the book Ryou was reading. =D Here's a hint: it has something to do with Egypt. I have no idea if a braille edition of the book exists or not, but for now let's all pretend, shall we? ;)
[5] - My personal belief is that there are indeed other rooms in the Great Pyramid. I also share Bakura's sentiment that the King's Chamber isn't a burial chamber at all, despite its sarcophagus. ;) Just my personal opinion. Feel free to argue your own views, I'm always ready to debate Egyptology.
[6] - According to some obscure ancient legends, there's a great library, with "all the knowledge of the gods" somewhere under the Sphinx. The second Sphinx legend they mention is self-explanatory. There's also the legend of the Riddle of the Sphinx, but that didn't truly originate until Greek times, so Yami and Bakura likely wouldn't know of it.
[7] - Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. This particular bit of dialogue between Frodo and Gandalf was taken from the movie, because at the moment my books are AWOL. [sweatdrop]
[8] - Ra and Osiris I'm sure you know are Egyptian gods. Jehovah is the Hebrew name for the one True God, the God that Bakura grew up with until the time Kuru Eruna was destroyed, at which time he abandoned all the gods.
[9] House of Beautification - Where all the mummification processes take place. Kinda strange name for it, eh? :P
()()()()()
WSJ: [eyes bug out] I finally finished!!!
Sekil: [sarcastically] Whoop-dee-doo.
WSJ: Shush you. I'm getting closer to the end. Not very much, but a little. :p So how'd you all like the chapter? Big, wasn't it? :D Longer then the snow storm chapter. I expect big reviews, yes?
Naosu: [giggles]
WSJ: [pouts] Aw man... Now that the chapter's over, I guess I've gotta give them back, don't I? [sulkily hands over Sekil, Naosu, and Nozomi] Ah well... I'll have Sekil back soon enough... [grins] Oh yeah, another note. The series has grown again. A side-story called Heart of a Hebrew is in the works. You definitely don't need to read it if you don't want to, I'm just going to write it for my own peace of mind and so the characters can stop bugging me. It's set in ancient Egypt after Yami's death, and will focus on Shahi, Ramses, and Jonathon's sons during and after Seto's reign as pharaoh. ;) Probably won't get written for awhile, but that's the plan.
Bakura: -.- Everyone go read Tarnished Soul, by Ebony Kuroneko, as that tells what happens to Ryou and I in the other realm.
WSJ: Oh yes! That reminds me! Credit for most of the last scene, especially the dialogue between Jonathon and Bakura, goes to Ebony Kuroneko. Brilliant writer, isn't she? [pulls out a pocket watch and begins swinging it back and forth] You will go read her fics... You will go read her fics...
Nozomi: [scowls] Would you just get on with the last few chapters of HSH before Ebony decides to hang you up by your ankles?
WSJ: [gulps and runs off] Reviews minna!
Chapter 16: WSJ: (V/O) Well now, let's see what everyone else is doing!
Mokuba: How'd I get roped into doing this?
Lisa: [giggles] Just get in the car, Mokie-kun!
WSJ: (V/O) Huh. Roller coasters. And birthdays, apparently.
Gwen: [bounce] I'm turning nineteen tomorrow!
Amoura: 'Appy birthday Tea!
Madame: Julien too, don't forget!
WSJ: (V/O) And oh the fun we'll have...
Joey: [growls at Scott] Can't you just keep your nose out of things that don't concern you?!
WSJ: (V/O) No no, I meant real fun.
Malik: You want us to WHAT??
WSJ: (V/O) All this and more, next time!
God bless minna-san!
