Disclaimer: I wish.

Author's notes:

This story is an AU; however, I will try to add canon events to keep things together. Background will be added little by little, so please bear with me for now.

Red and Blue

Chapter 1

It was amazing how just one second's carelessness could destroy work spanning several centuries. That so much time spent planning, waiting, aspiring, could be completely wasted. That a single person could destroy the life's work of so many.

Though, perhaps, it was too much to place all the blame on a single person. If someone had been watching, been even the slightest bit more alert, had even just been there at the time, then, maybe, things wouldn't have gone wrong.

No one had been there.

But, again, it wasn't fair to lay blame on those who had neglected to be there either. It was all simply a long string of coincidences. There were no wheels-within-wheels, no plots-within-plots. It was a coincidence that the complex just happened to be as close to empty as possible, while everyone else who was experienced was busy seeing to a drought in the southernmost region of the Kingdom. It was a coincidence that the youngest and least experienced girl just happened to have been the only one on duty in the soul rooms that day. It was a coincidence she just happened to have been the shortest person living at the complex in several decades and the robe she was wearing was just the slightest bit too long for her. It was a coincidence that she just happened to have completed the last part of her Ritual only several days earlier; her sister had been the last to die.

In her own humble opinion, Amaryllis doubted it all 'just happened.' Quite frankly, whoever had the misconception that something like this could have all 'just happened' was an idiot who probably couldn't figure out how to extricate themselves from a room with walls made of papyrus. Nothing could be quite this coincidental.

She would know. Amaryllis was an authority in the workings of these 'coincidences.' As a full and experienced Sibyl, recognizing 'coincidences' like these was one of her many duties. She had paid a heavy price for the ability to do so. Like the young girl who sat across from her, watching her apprehensively over the black stone desk, she too had lost a sister. A lovely younger sister with none of the foibles they were reported to have. A twin brother had been the first lost, at a tragically young age. Her completion of the last Ritual had resulted in the loss of her mother.

She traced the Triangle on her palm, lost in thought.

Brother, Sister, Mother.

In tracing the lines, she saw them all over again. Each line lit up as her finger passed it.

'All my Anchors…' She traced the last outer line of the Triangle and paused. Then, with a soft sigh, she traced the invisible line down the middle of the Triangle. The four-sided Triangle flared brightly for a moment before the light died down again, the last line once more fading away.

Self.

Looking up at the girl across from her, Amaryllis opened her mouth to speak. "How…"

Immediately, the girl poured out numerous (groundless) apologies. She shouldn't have been there at the time (she was assigned; no one was going to blame her for that). She should have known to catch it somehow (the importance of this particular Working had not yet been revealed to her even though its completion was nearing, which was Amaryllis' fault. Also, none of her magic had been unlocked; how was she to have caught it? She was too far away to have physically saved it). She should have managed to hem her robe before this could have happened (no one was faulting her for that; it was the fault of one of the seamstresses). All apologies were unwarranted and easily explained away, the product of seething guilt and true regret. A less open teacher than Amaryllis would have immediately seized on one of these excuses, just to have someone to blame for this calamity. But, even if only because this was a plot of Fate, the fault was not laid on the poor hapless girl who had only been used as a tool to further the unknown ends of that higher power.

And yet…who knew what other self-absorbed fool would seize on one of these reasons to hound her as the devastation of centuries of planning? There were several examples of these even among the Sibyls, who were known for their open-mindedness. The only thing to do would be to send her away. But…even if it was for the girl's own good, where else but among the Sibyls could anyone make use of her unique skills?

Holding up a hand to stem the flow of apologies, she scrutinized the girl. She was relatively young, only about twenty-two, a stereotypically dark haired and tan skinned Egyptian with uncommonly blue eyes…

"Let me see your Triangle." She ordered. The girl held out her hand, palm downwards. Gently turning the hand over, she traced the triangle on the girl's palm, one line at a time. In the wake of her finger, each line began to glow softly, the way her own Triangle had just moments ago. Each line summoned memories and images of the Anchors…

Mentor, Lover, Sister.

'Interesting. There aren't that many with more than one Anchor grounded outside the family…' She traced the middle line and stopped. Her eyes had deceived her for a moment; she had been almost certain there was another weaker line crossing the central Self-line that had lit up as well. She watched the glow from the Triangle die down. On a whim, she followed a line perpendicular to the faded Self-line and traced another Triangle there. Lines lit up dimly as her fingers passed; no images accompanied these lines. 'Another Triangle? But, that's impossible! How could anyone have two Triangles?'

In the first Triangle, there were three different Anchors, two outside her family. Tracing the Triangle brought in images of the Anchors; she had seen the girl's entire family in association with the memories of her sister. But, if there was a second, the people in it were completely different and the Anchors weren't yet defined, as if… As if she was to live two lives.

One Sibyl, one Triangle. Never, in the entire history of the Sibyls, had anyone been gifted with more than one Triangle because no one had ever lived more than one life. Perhaps…

"Go back to your room. I'll see you again tomorrow." This definitely required thought.

The Sibyls never came to birthing day celebrations. For that matter, Sibyls never attended weddings or anniversaries either. Their sphere seemed to be in sickness, and in death and dying, somber as that sounded. They simply weren't suited to what were considered happy events. This was not to say that they were always somber or sad – there was just some indefinable quality about them that always hinted at sadness, at seriousness. Perhaps this was due to the peculiar history surrounding them.

Sibyls had been a force within the Kingdom since as far back as its founding and establishment. In fact, it had been the Sibyls who suggested the selection of the first ruling family by the formal magical Duels and Tournaments that characterized the Kingdom. They had likely been around even before the founding of the Kingdom, and would most likely continue even after the Kingdom was gone. There had always been Sibyls, all of them working towards some obscure incomprehensible goal, though they didn't pry or interfere in day-to-day life within the Kingdom. Or, at least, not very often.

The Sibyls themselves didn't seem remarkable at all. They came from all the races within the Kingdom; they were of every skin tone and color. Slaves could be elevated to Sibyl status and members of the nobility were also called. In short, Sibyls came from every race, culture, or social standing. Which was both practical and convenient. Due to the peculiar nature of their work, the Sibyls came in contact with all the different peoples of the Kingdom. Yet all the Sibyls had one obvious thing in common. They were all female.

A new Sibyl was selected covertly. No one knew exactly how or why a Sibyl was chosen. Some process of the Sibyl could differentiate between two people who were completely alike in almost every way. Often, new Sibyls were orphans, or those who had gone through misfortune, losing loved ones and family members. Some other Sibyls were those who had killed relatives or friends. There never seemed to be any sort of connection between the deaths of those close to them and the selection of the Sibyl themselves. After all, people died from time to time. In the Kingdom, living to see fifty years was considered ancient. It was normal and necessary; how could deaths determine the designation of a person as a Sibyl?

In any case, Sibyls were possessed of strange powers. They appeared able to control the weather; they could heal sicknesses. All sorts of things that were considered impossible by ordinary folk were simply shrugged off as commonplace by the Sibyls. With such enormous power at their disposal, it was strange that the Sibyls had never once attempted to seize political power in order to rule. They simply worked, serving the Kingdom and its people. Their power, their magic was used to aid the Kingdom in practical ways, never demanding payment, working towards that strange otherworldly purpose.

In the more rural parts of the Kingdom, they aided the farmers during the droughts by calling down rain, the villages during the plagues by healing them. They were advisors to even the nobles, but only when asked – and sometimes not even then; their opinions were very much sought after. They were always working and helping, somewhere, though they did not just come whenever they were called. They also always seemed to know when a place might need them, whether or not that place had attempted to contact them. However, it was only when the time seemed appropriate to the Sibyls themselves that they would come.

The Sibyls "lived" – if they could be said to do that, when they were not working – on top of what was known as the Shrouded Mountain, a tall granite face always surrounded by multicolored, lightning-charged clouds. Smoke and flashes of light could sometimes be seen; otherwise, the Mountain remained always the same. Long ago, some wit had once commented, "They know everything; they just can't be bothered to do anything about what they know," and this had become common knowledge, though how they could know anything while living in, to most extents and purposes, complete isolation at the top of the tallest known mountain in the entire Kingdom (and perhaps the entire world) was not known.

In most of those situations during which a Sibyl might be in attendance, the people were usually too worried, or grateful, or frightened to enquire deeply into their secrets. It was only afterwards, during times of leisure, that the public even thought to wonder about this underlying power in the Kingdom.

Outside of their obvious work throughout the Kingdom, the Sibyls kept to themselves. The Shrouded Mountain where they lived had its own peculiar magic, for not a single person (outside of the Sibyls) had ever made it to the top where the Sibyls lived. The top of the Mountain didn't retreat into the distance or anything obvious. Searchers would simply continue climbing and climbing for days on end, seemingly progressing. If their food ran out, food would, in some manner, be provided for them. (No one had ever died on the Mountain.) The magic of the mountain seemed to multiply the distance going up. No matter how long they had been climbing, however, from the moment they turned around to climb down, no matter how high or low they seemed to be, no matter how slowly or quickly they went down, it always took exactly three days to reach the level ground. Eventually, people stopped trying to reach them. It was, however, a famous joke. Whenever an outsider unfamiliar with the Sibyls visited, the locals would direct them to the Mountain. 'No one has ever managed to climb to the top to see it,' they would say, 'I bet you couldn't do it.' Inevitably, the visitor would bristle and determine to 'show these locals'. Every attempt ended in the same way. The visitor would brashly announce his or her goal of climbing to the top of the mountain, climb upwards for some time, concede defeat, and then climb down the mountain in exactly three days.

Therefore, no one had ever seen a Sibyl face-to-face. When they traveled, they wrapped themselves in hooded cloaks of midnight blue, black, or twilit purple (the significance of these colors, if there was one, was unknown; all the Sibyls seemed the same to most people). Despite their constant presence throughout the Kingdom, they still tended to keep to themselves. They always returned to their Shrouded Mountain once their work was complete.

And the Sibyls never attended birthing day ceremonies.

That was why it came as a complete surprise when, at the first birthing day celebration of the Crown Prince, three Sibyls, one dressed in each of the trademark colors, appeared at the gate of the castle, followed by another much smaller figure, clothed completely in white. This figure was unusually small and, for its size, for it couldn't have been anything other than a child, unnaturally quiet.

"You can't mean that…"

"I can assure you that we are perfectly serious. Your Majesty." The Sibyl in black answered, voice emotionless. The title was tacked on as an afterthought.

The queen simply looked shocked, though not at the lack of courtesy. (Their manners in all other respects were completely flawless; seclusion seemed not to have affected their decorum at all. Except for the air of arrogance and superiority that the Sibyl in black seemed to exude.) "I still don't understand how this could be. Men are never…"

"Special circumstances preclude this." Pushing back her purple hood, the Sibyl opposite her smiled. She was the most self-effacing, it seemed. Polite without being servile, the queen felt that she could get to know and like her rather well, if circumstances hadn't ordered otherwise. Maybe she was lower in whatever hierarchy the Sibyl possessed?

"Special…?"

"We were as shocked as you when we found out." She continued.

Still rather dazed at being the first monarch to actually be sought out by a Sibyl, not to mention the... most peculiar news, the queen barely caught the dark glance that the Sibyl in black shot at the one in purple. When the other responded with a look of absolute serenity, she was surprised. Especially when the black one (it seemed rather tactless to differentiate the Sibyl by the color of their garments, but what else did she have to separate them from each other?) subsided and did not speak again for the remainder of the conversation.

"As I was saying," the one in purple continued, "Since this is a 'special circumstance,' we were wondering if you could do us a favor." Nodding, the queen gestured for her to go on. "We'd like to leave someone here, with you, for observational purposes."

"A Sibyl? Here?"

"She's perfectly trustworthy, of course." The one clothed in blue answered quickly, for some reason choosing to ignore the queen's outburst. "Her purpose will be to advise and observe; she will not interfere without reason." The Sibyl lowered her hood almost shyly as she glanced towards the cradle in the corner. "Perhaps I could…?"

"What? Oh…" Barely managing to get her mind around the surprises of the day, she had completely forgotten the reason for these developments. "I don't…"
"I'll be quite careful." The Sibyl reassured her, rightly interpreting the reluctance. "I'd just like to meet him."

A servant was called over and the Crown Prince deposited in the Sibyl's arms, though not without reluctance, at least, not on the servant's part. The child, on the other hand, was quite willing to be held by the strange girl, cooing delightedly. She ruffled his hair, which stood up and stuck out in all directions, smiling affectionately.

Finally putting maternal worries to rest, at least, for now, the queen turned back to the subject at hand. "Will there truly be need for an observer?"

"Yes. Are you worried about who the observer is or about what she will do?"

"Both." The queen answered frankly, too worn from surprises to be polite. "I'm simply worried about entrusting my own child, and, by extension, the entire kingdom when he comes of age…unless he's to be taken away?"

The three Sibyls exchanged glances. The one in purple shook her head. "No. Even after… he will remain here, to rule the kingdom." The queen sighed with relief after that and didn't hear her quieter remark. "He will be needed…along with all the help we can give him."

"We understand your fears completely, your Majesty." Starting with surprise, the queen didn't even notice that this was the first time they had addressed her with the title of respect, and seemed to mean it as such. This time, it was the one in blue who had spoken up. Shifting the weight of the child in her arms, she continued. "You know who the observer is. I believe you're familiar with her family. As to what she will do…you'll have to trust us there, as we hope we can trust you to keep this quiet." Her smile took any sting out of the words and she turned back to the child, who was currently grasping the material of her cloak and looking it over with interest.

"Who will be the observer?" The queen finally asked. "Would she be a guardian for the child as well as reporting back to you?"

"Yes. She will be both observer and guardian." She motioned towards the figure wearing white, who stood and walked up to the queen and the purple-clothed Sibyl, head bowed respectfully. "And her name? Isis Ishtar."

"But she's just a child! Surely she's not more than five."

"She's six, and she'll grow along with the Crown Prince." Settling the baby into her lap again, she smiled. "He'll have an elder sister."

"How can she be a Sibyl? She's not that much older than my son!"

"Did we say the observer was to be a Sibyl?" Turning her wide-mouthed attention from the Sibyl holding her child to the one who had spoken, the queen simply shook her head disbelievingly.

"No…I…I don't suppose you did."

"Strange, isn't it, that the one person you know among the Sibyls is the one you don't trust, because she isn't one? When you know nothing about either who we are or what we can do. Unfortunately, she's the only one of us fit for the job."

"A…child?"

"She'll be just that much closer to the Prince. As to her competence, she's gone through more in her few short years than most people go through in their entire lives." 'After all, she's gone through two; the scars of those first years are still on her, however short they were. Still, what will come in the next years will be the ones that count the most. I'm ashamed to be putting this child through so much, but it's for her own good. Who knew the essence would take this long to find a vessel? I suppose it's all for the good; she would have been too old in her previous life to truly bond with the Prince enough for him to really trust her and take her advice.' Yet, she still couldn't repress a slight feeling of guilt. She had been the one to "release" the essence of the girl, the second Sibyl euphemism for murder, though they had never truly needed one before. The Rituals were enough blood on their hands; why had these circumstances added even more? Glancing over at the other Sibyl, who was quietly playing with the child, she sighed imperceptibly. 'And my accomplice…'

"Are we agreed, your Majesty?" The other's words sliced through her thoughts with all the effectiveness of a sword through… better to stop that thought there. 'Praise be to that girl! We have to get this concluded…'

"I don't really have much choice, do I?"

"If it would make you feel better to think that, Your Majesty." The one in purple answered her.

"Oh, and don't be surprised by reports that the Sibyls have descended from on high. I'd still encourage you to keep them from climbing the Shrouded Mountain, however. Revealing as much as we have is a serious blow to our image. But 'truth is stranger than fiction,' if you'll forgive me the use of a cliché. So, be prepared for several demonstrations of that in the near future."

After gently setting the child back into the cradle, the blue-cloaked Sibyl joined the other two, who had stood up. Isis remained hooded and silent, staring down at the ground.

"We can entrust you with Isis, can we not?" Smiling tenderly at the mentioned child, she tilted her head, waiting for an answer. "She's a very dear child."

"O-Of course." The queen replied, preparing to get up.

"No need to see us out, your Majesty." The Sibyl laughed musically. "We shall see you again." Then, without cover of either smoke or light, all three disappeared.

"Isis! Wait for me!" The taller girl turned as the younger boy ran up to her, panting slightly. "Why didn't you tell me you were going? You promised you'd take me!"

"Silly brat." Isis answered, a smile taking the sting out of her words, much like her Sibyl up bringers. "If I had told you, it would have taken the fun out of gleaning the information for yourself. Which you did very well at. If you can always keep your ears open like this, you'll make an excellent ruler."

"You're supposed to be an older sister, but you act more like the High Priest sometimes…"

Wrinkling her nose comically: "Don't compare me to that old…"

"I was kidding, Isis!" He looked up at her earnestly, his crimson colored eyes still childishly innocent. "You know I didn't mean it…"

"You're still a little brat." She jokingly batted at his hair, causing him to dance out of the way.

"I'm eight, only five years younger than you!" He shouted indignantly, trying to tame his hair back into place.

"Well, since you're ever so old, I suppose you might as well come. We'll go together, Yami."

With a mischievous smirk, he cried joyfully. "Okay!" Then, acting as if he had forgotten. "So, where are we going again?"

"You little…"

Owari

Endnotes: Well, that's that. Next chapter will be up soon as I am fine-tuning certain things. If you're confused, feel free to leave a review or e-mail.

And if the title doesn't make sense now, it will soon. I hope.

Review, please?