Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it.
Aah. The second chapter. Hope you like. And to clear one thing up about Spira and Daeva's religious system; both have three Divine beings at their core, the only difference is that in Daeva, one of them is female, and in Spira, all three are male. But the three Divinities of the two countries are the same beings, just being perceived slightly differently in each country.
And to help you; a Bond is like a "marriage", but on a spiritual level. It can be left unfulfilled, but the two who deny it will always feel that there's something missing, and experience a kind of mental "pain". And even unfulfilled; if one of the Bond-mates dies, the other dies too. Bonded, the two will be stronger than alone, complete each other as it were.
Warnings; from this chapter on, mentions of incest (but that is questionable, as it's the Gods we're talking about here), cursing… forgot to mention this in the first chappie. Bakura has a dirty mouth! Whatever else comes up will be mention when it is relevant to the story.
Thank you to those who rewieved!
Consumed Rachel: Thank you! And concerning Atemu/Yami and Yuugi… in this story they will only be mentioned in short paragraphs or in passing, the focus is on Ryou and Bakura. I'm sorry.
Samurai Angel: Heh, thank you. And I don't know if this is soon but… I hope you get your story out fine. /Waves/
Pork Steak the Grande: Thanks, and yeah, it can possibly be kind if confusing, because I mention things that won't be explained until later, but I'm happy you found the story interesting enough to read on anyway! And good that I managed to make the plotline somewhat original concerning such a cliché as this one.
YamiShadowcat22: Back again I see, fun (for me, and hopefully for you too)! And I'll try too keep it up!
Hales731: Heya! /glomp/ Aah, I hope this is an interesting enough continuation for you! I had fun with it anyway. Especially near the end… my sis helped with that… /Cackles/
Chapter 2; The Black Heart of a Spiritual
Choking gasp, jerk upright, and Ryou was awake. With a groan he fell back on the bed again, the pain from his various wounds awakening from their rest, now back full force to pester him since he was awake and could appreciate their effort. Blue eyes closed, the young Daimon mentally counted his wounds from where he could feel bandage wrapped around them. His left arm, the first one. His right side, slightly diagonal, must have been that burning he'd felt in the side, oh well. And throbbing in his right temple reminded him he'd been hit there too. Soft, almost imperceptible, footsteps closed in on him. Ryou forced his body to relax and appear lax, but it was so... He choked again, eyes flying open as he received a light cuff by a foot to his injured right side.
"I know you're awake, so you can just stop playing." Soft, impatient growl in a deep voice that seemed to sooth Ryou, even when it very clearly wasn't supposed to. Opening his eyes he looked up from his position on the mound of pillows he was lying on into hard, narrowed silver. Confident smirk all over, the tall, muscular Spiritual fairly exuded an aura of "I am so much better than you, bow. NOW."
Ryou grimaced at his predicament. Apparently none of his own troops had been close enough to catch him. But it didn't surprise him, really. They'd both been using the Dance, and unless any and all other had kept away, they could very well have been chopped down in the process of the two combatants trying to kill each other.
"I hope you excuse me for not getting up and greeting you properly." Ryou said, with only a faint trace of sarcasm in his voice. The dark-skinned Spiritual's smirk widened and he bowed mockingly.
"No, no your highness. Just stay where you are. Crown Prince Ryou of Daeva, an honor." The General of Spira's army (Ryou had finally been able to connect the faint familiarity with a name and position; General Bakura of Spira, no other name given.) sat down in a chair placed at the side of the mound of pillows, by a small table of dark wood. His voice screamed of the amused sarcasm that he apparently wasn't polite enough to keep bottled. Or he just didn't care if his "guest" took notice.
Ryou bowed his head, noting the bandage wrapped around the right side of the Spiritual's face. So he'd managed to at least deal Bakura more than mere scratches.
"Charmed," he murmured, a quick smile flashing over his face. And surprisingly even for Ryou, he was perfectly honest. Even the General seemed to be momentarily confused by the prince's less than acid response.
"But, if you excuse me for prying, I thought the Dance was forbidden among Spirituals?"
Ryou asked curiously, keeping a polite smile fixed on his face, eyes widened to project a more "harmless" facade. If they thought you were sweet and brainless, they were more likely to answer your questions. And he almost got an answer too; the General opened his mouth before snapping it closed, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"I see how you got your reputation for being dangerous, even without a weapon, your highness. Let's just say I'm... an exception. That's all you'll get." His voice deepened with danger and Ryou decided to let it go. The General wasn't known for his sweet disposition.
"What will happen?" The white-haired Daimon didn't need to elaborate; it was quite apparent what he was talking about. The General looked up from where he was sharpening his scimitar, casting a quick look at Ryou where he sat on the pillows and shrugged, before looking down again.
"The idiots wanted to kill you, since it would hurt the Lord of Daeva. Luckily for you, I thought it was better to keep you alive, and I'm quite sure his majesty will agree with me."
Cocking his head, Ryou thought back on the battle. While he never had a very good grip on what was happening at the same time as the battle played out, afterwards he always found he could remember things he wasn't sure he had could have seen when fighting.
"Because unfortunately for you, your Crown Prince was captured, wasn't he?"
The General's head snapped up and he growled angrily at Ryou's sweet tone, and what he'd said. Dark fingers twitched.
"Careful, your highness. While you're more valuable alive, no one has anything against you arriving at the capital roughened up. There has been a battle after all, so no one will wonder about any wounds that may or may not have been there right after the battle."
Ryou's eyes widened slightly and he bowed his head nervously.
"Of course. I'm sorry for being rude." Silence from the General and finally Ryou couldn't take it anymore and looked up. Blue caught in surprised silver. Whispery silver fog over an endless sea. Mingling, dancing above the waves, with them. And...
"Right. Stay there." The Spiritual broke the gaze abruptly, stalking stiffly out of the tent, his back almost rigidly straight. /What... was that? I've never... It was absolutely wondrous.../ Ryou's thoughts flitted back to that moment where their gazes had locked, and a dreamy smile broke out on his face, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. He wasn't aware of doing so, and didn't know what the strange glow that had appeared right then had been. But he had a feeling it was important. Really important. Someone else, on the other hand, had seen that far-away smile and unfocused eyes, and swore.
Growling, the great General of Spira stalked through the camp, all and sundry scattering before him like doves before a cat. He had made the mistake of stopping right outside the tent and look back in. And that smile. That stupid, pathetic, brainlessly insipid smile and bright, soft eyes. /He doesn't know. Too young to know./ A short, wry laugh spilled past his lips. /Compared to you, everyone is "too young" you ass./
Stopping at the bank of a little river that meandered past the camp, Bakura leaned against an old willow that stretched its twisted branches over the water. /And he will never know. Such a bright and sweet soul, it's a wonder he isn't a Spiritual... As if we'd be more favored by The Three, than the Daimons./Bakura thought with a sneer, picking bark off the stem and throwing the pieces into the stream. /A Bond. After all this time./
"DO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY!? HUH? Laughing at me, I'm sure! Goddamned Gods. Not good for anything. Doesn't help when they should, and stick their long noses in when they shouldn't!" The General hissed angrily, the poor willow taking the brunt of his ire. No one had followed their General, so no one saw the outburst. They all knew when to keep "the fuck away", as their so eloquent General would phrase it.
Gritting his teeth he sank down on his heels, a fist shaking with strain. Staring into his clear reflection, he gave a sudden roar and slammed a hand down in the water, disrupting the surface and distorting the reflection. /Too bloody. As if I could touch anything that pure and not taint it. But they all deserved it. Massacring a village that couldn't defend itself. Even the "gentler and nobler" Spirituals. Hah. They got what was coming to them. The Massacre at Rising Hill, a fitting name./ A bitter laugh danced out over the surface of the stream, mingling with the lengthening shadows as night advanced. The laugh choked on itself, turning into a groan and finally a half-sob. Hiding his face in his hands, Bakura laughed as tears that hadn't been falling in over three thousand years trickled down dusky-skinned cheeks and fell to the ground, wetting the grass.
"Hell. Just... Damn you." The whisper was lost and carried away on the little stream as the moon rose.
Somewhere else entirely, a being stared at a mirror seemingly hanging suspended in the air by nothing, and chuckled maliciously.
"Finally got that kick in the rear end you've been waiting for, eh? Not exactly what you expected, was it? Take that, bitch! See it as both a reward and a punishment for what you've done and what has been done to you." The figure said congenially, leaned forward in its seat in a confidential manner, but malicious mischievousness bubbled just under the surface. Then the pony tailed redhead broke out into riotous laughter, its head thrown back. Which was abruptly interrupted as it, (most often identifying itself as a "he") got smacked on the back of the head.
"Hey! I was enjoying myself here! Have some respect for privacy!" The young-looking being, right now in the form of a slender and tall male with a whitish scar slashing horizontally over the bridge of his nose exclaimed.
"Why don't you pick on someone else for a change? It was hardly his fault that the original war broke out. It was yo-"
"Oh, shut up! He's been resisting us since the beginning! We can't get anywhere due to his mulish stubbornness!" The redhead scowled and crossed his arms. The second being, (who seemed to be slightly undecided as to which gender to assume, in Daeva it was female and in Spira male, but right now it was in a male body) who had long golden hair, raised a wing-like eyebrow and planted its hands on slender hips.
"That may be, but that's no reason to single him out. Even if he would have to have Bonded with that Daimon sooner or later for the process to finally reach its last stages. You're impossible, Osiris. What do you have against him?" The being, in Spira known as the Golden Lord Ra (and in Daeva as the Lady) said exasperatedly, hands flung in the air. Scowling, the Red Lord Osiris shrugged nonchalantly, glancing back at the mirror, which now showed a young and short Spiritual with strange spiky and multi-colored hair sitting in a tent talking with a brown-haired and blue eyed Daimon.
"I can't stand him." Came the childish response, the statuesque young man's face locked in a stubborn expression.
"And who's being childishly stubborn now?! Otou-sama! 'Ris is at it again!" Ra shouted frustrated to the "room" behind the one the two Gods were in. A soft chuckle could be heard from the room beyond and a third being, this one with short, blue-white hair wild about its face, came in. Lord Obelisk, in Daeva known as Chaos and the Lord of the Shadow Realm, leaned lazily against the doorframe.
"I can see that. But it's no wonder really. He needs to get laid. Why don't you show a little brotherly love and help him out, Ra?" Another lazy chuckle as both younger Gods shrieked, outraged, at their father.
"Calm down, you two. Not an ounce of humor in any of you. But by the by, how long will you deny your father grandchildren?"
Before Ra could go apoplectic with rage (was that even possible for a God?), the Blue Lord waved a hand to calm his sons.
"Children, children. Now, as long as 'Ris doesn't drive the Spiritual any crazier than he already is, there is no need to worry, Ra. And that Spiritual is a stubborn ass, so unfortunately he needs good incentive. Even with this, it will take a while for him to accept it. But I have the outmost faith in that young Daimon to make him see the truth. I am more concerned for our oblivious leader of the Daimons and his intended Bond... they could both prove to be slightly... naive." Obelisk studied the nails on one hand and walked out of the room again.
"And I'm still waiting for those grandchildren, both of you." The Blue Lord of creation ducked his head as a flame erupted from the room he'd left behind, flaring past him and narrowly avoiding singeing his hair. Chuckling, he faded away.
Ryou sighed and turned around carefully, as to not aggravate his wound. When the General had returned to the tent, he'd still been in the foulest of moods. And even when the slender Daimon had dared to approach his grumpy "caretaker" and lightly touched his arm in hopes of making whatever it was better (how, he didn't know, but trying had, he hoped, never killed anyone), he'd gotten mixed signals.
First, the tall Spiritual would relax, only just and only noticeable as Ryou had his hand on the muscled arm, and then he would tense, whirl around, and snap that it was nothing, that he wanted to be left alone.
But the young Daimon was sure there had been longing in those cold eyes, but also self-hatred.
For whatever reason, Ryou hadn't been able to figure out yet.
Flopping down in his stomach, white hair fanning out around his face and spilling onto the pillows, his wings spreading out behind him freely he relaxed again, finding this position tolerable. /I don't know why, but I want to.../ Frowning, as he didn't really know what he wanted, Ryou thought again of the tall, muscular and handso--eh... the Spiritual. /I want to help him. To make whatever it is better... Stupidity, thy name is Ryou!/ He groaned mentally, but felt satisfied at having come to that conclusion. That was what he wanted to do, and hopefully he wouldn't get killed in the process. /And tomorrow, we're breaking camp for Spira's capital... Did I plan on living long?/ Ryou didn't think much more that night, his breaths evening out and becoming deeper, battle-bruised body quickly falling asleep.
Therefore he didn't notice when a shadow walked up to where he lay, one dark hand stretching out to touch the crown of white hair tumbling over the pillows, but jerked back, as if burned, before touching even a strand.
Mwahahah! End for now! Feels as if I've only introduced more confusion into the story, now, though.... Hope you aren't too confused, since everything will be explained, but further into the story. Ah, well. Hope you liked it!