Chapter Fifteen

Treachery

Yugi and Marik stared at one-another with all the intensity and sheer hatred they had developed over the last few weeks and the tension could have been cut with a knife. From Yugi's first encounter with a puppet Bandit Keith too this tremendous battle of skill, they had been at each others throat; one for peace and the other for war.

The air had grown thick but it wasn't from the anticipation. Two gigantic beasts of legend, made pseudo-flesh in the black oblivion of the Shadow Realm in which they occupied; It was the perfect staging field. There was nothing to get in the way or too interrupt this epic conflict.

A winding crimson serpent of colossal proportions eclipsed the backdrop behind Yugi, wrapping its neck in a cylindrical pattern just off too his right and burrowing proverbial holes in its foe with its shimmering eyes, liberating a roar from its "first" mouth that shook the foundation beneath their feet.

The second deity emanated light from its golden form like the sun, spreading a mile-long set of brilliant wings and then folding them like a cloak against its breast, raising its head up and lording over the area in a obvious attempt to one-up its godly rival. Slifer the Sky Dragon was no cardboard picture made holographic like other monsters and received that as a challenge, preparing itself and its owner with another terrible war cry. Marik and his beast were equally as prepared.

"Now Yami, are you ready to finish this close, personal humiliation once and for all or does your suffering need prolonging?" Marik chided, snaking out one of his caramel-colored arms too stroke the chin of his glorious dragon.

Yami Yugi nodded, lowering the hand holding his cards to rest on the nearly vacant panel of his Duel Disk. "Yes, I am. Today, your reign of terror comes to an end, Marik."

"Then make your move, pharaoh. If you think you can."

Yami Yugi thrust his outstretched finger forward, his teeth exposed in an animalistic snarl. "I can and will! Slifer, Thunderforce attack!"

Marik's opening gambit was symbolic of the power his rival shared and of that his monster commanded. His movements were identical too Yugi's. "Winged Dragon of Ra, annihilate him!"

The resulting assaults created a flare that lit up the blackness of the Shadow Realm brighter than any afternoon sky. Marik and Yugi felt a surge of shared power that caused their muscles to spasm and become like jelly. As the smoke cleared and the ashes raises, neither of the two Egyptian God monsters had been vanquished. The combatants, sworn enemies who would never yield or give ground too the other, were struggling to stand. They were effectively bowing, thought inadvertently, too one another.

If they could have formed a coherent thought through the agony that racked their bodies, they might have been ashamed.

…………

…………

"I don't know much about what happened after the—"

Skylar looked at Deirdre, who looked back at her with heavy, tired bags under his sky blue eyes and a complexion that was much more pasty than normal. She thought that any more bad news might put him into a coma but she was helpless against his seemingly unintended charm.

"—The incident, except what the nightly news has reported. They're passing off what happened at the café as a propane gas explosion. No one has said a word about you or anything you did."

"And the monster?" He asked half-heartedly.

She shrugged, obviously confused. " 'Dunno. Maybe this is, like, a government cover-up or something."

"Or maybe Marik rewired a few brains while I was out. Regardless," he droned on, almost as if growing uninterested, "it's probably for the best. I think something like that getting too the public would cause a national panic and I am just too freakin' tired to handle that right now."

Skylar rewound the conversation back to the beginning. "Marik? Who is Marik?"

Shaking his head to dismiss the question, Deirdre sank into deep thought, running through all the questions that plagued his mind. The location of the Millennium Balance for instance. He didn't have it anymore and found that a little more than strange. But something else came even before that and he figured that Skylar wound at least know about this if not any other.

"How did my legs break?" Deirdre asked, a diligent fear clutching his voice. He actively hid it so she wouldn't be worried by his stress any further.

"Oh, I don't think they are broken but one was dislocated and wrapped around the other." She explained, using her hands to elaborate. "You were beaten up bad when I found you but that...fire, or whatever, that was coming out of your ring was still all over you so I decided against taking you too the hospital and instead found a trashcan lid and dragged you home. The fire blew out about a block or so away from your house."

Skylar was smiling widely, seeing his immediate disapproval.

"So," he said with a customary frown that she had begun to associate with a impending scolding. "I could be fine?"

She nodded, blushing a bit.

"Sky, what did you want to be when you were growing up?"

Bringing her index fingernail to her teeth and nibbling on it thoughtfully, she whistled when the thought broke the surface. "A fashion designer. Duh."

"I would suggest a less 'people oriented' occupation."

Frowning, she folded her hands in her lap and pinned him with an angry glare. "Like what?"

Deirdre threw back the blanket covering his torso and flexed his toes experimentally. "I don't know...maybe a hermit."

Oddly enough, she seemed intrigued by his response but seeing that she actually was considering it he decided to drop the subject. He kicked his working but fairly numb and bruised legs over the edge of his bed. Smiling now that he knew he wouldn't be a cripple the rest of his life, he braced a hand on her shoulder and stood up, finding that he could walk but only with assistance and a sharp pain that jolted his knee with each step. "Sky, what is happening with the tournament now?"

That was a dreadful question that she was loath to answer, because she knew how much it meant to Deirdre that he make the cut. He had worked and fought so hard and deserved one of the coveted eight positions in the Battle City finals but because of a series of unfortunate circumstances he didn't get the chance too collect his last remaining locator card.

But what good would lying to him do? He'd just find out later and be bummed out then instead of now. He might as well just get it over with.

"Last time I checked, they had just finished the second match of the finals."

Deirdre stopped for a moment in his trek too the crutch leaning against the doorframe, sighing with obvious disappointment that he had been too late. He continued and picked up the crutches, adjusting the pegs to suit his height. He assumed they previously belonged too Skylar or a much shorter relative. "Well, I'll try again next year."

Smiling, Skylar stood up and placed her hands on his shoulders, hoping to calm down his boiling fury. She knew he was angry. He always got quiet and cool when he was most pissed off. Her gentle touch seemed to help though and his relaxing exhalation and the stiffness leaving his shoulders confirmed it.

Deirdre clicked the pegs on each crutch down several notches and tucked each tightly into his armpits. "Let's go back," he said, opening his bedroom door and taking a single hobbling step out.

"Back to where?" She asked, close behind.

"Back to where you found me. I gotta find my...wait a tic," he paused. "You said you found me with the ring on my hand, fire was coming out out it. What happened to it?"

With a guilty smile, Skylar tapped her left hip just below the waste and winked.

Deirdre sighed at her hesitance and reached into his left pocket mumbling under his breath, obviously restraining the surge of frustration-soaked curses tugging at his lips. After a moment, he produced the Millennium Balance in its compact, nondescript form and with a mere thought, transformed it into its true shape, that of a golden scale with two dishes dangling from chains and the gaudy, lidless eye standard of all Millennium Items adorning the base of it.

Effectively zoning out of the outside world, from all audible or physical contact, Deirdre focused on the object clutched in his hand alone, calling out too the double-crossing spirit which inhabited it. "Ahmose, we need too talk."

Feeling his stomach lurch as he entered another reality, though only that of his black, barren mindscape, he opened his eyes and was standing before the giant man known as Ahmose, ex-royal advisor to the pharaoh. His great python-like arms were crossed over his barrel chest and a wrinkled frown marred his face.

"We have nothing too talk about, child."

"I beg too differ. You betrayed me! You tried to kill hundreds of innocent people through me!" Deirdre exclaimed. "That was the worse part! You used me as your instrument of war!"

"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good, I'm afraid. In this case, it was them and you."

"Well find yourself a new sacrifice, Ahmose. I'm done. I want this brain bond broken now and I want your balance chucked into the nearest lake!"

Ahmose shook his head, not just too say "no" but also too show his disappointment. "Dear boy, I offered you so much power and so much prosperity and you throw it all away because a few meaningless lives were endangered!" He roared, though Deirdre wasn't afraid and didn't flinch. "You are a fool! I regret ever accepting you as my vassal!"

"That makes two of us. Now get out of my head and out of my life."

Again, Ahmose shook his head. "That is not possible at this point, young Deirdre. I still have business which much be finalized and I need your body too do it." Ahmose tossed out his arms, which twisted and curled and altered too resemble snakes not just in width but in the literal sense as well.

One python wrapped around Deirdre's neck and immediately he reached up and grabbed on too it, fighting back its venomous bite. The other snake looped around his hand and pinned it too his chest, then doubled back and settled directly by his right ear, hissing and flicking out its tongue, tickling his cheek.

On the outside, Skylar was frantically screaming and trying to pry Deirdre's own hands away from his throat as he strangled himself, or so it looked. It also could have been mistaken for him trying to remove something strangling him though that possibility hadn't entered her mind.

"Your role in this is over, child. I will commandeer your body now and begin my agenda."

"Y-your...agenda?" Deirdre gasped, eyes watering as he struggling to breathe. "Wh-what agenda could a five-thousand year old consultant h-have—aargg!"

"I must become what I believe I deserve. I must kill the pharaoh and take his place as king." He grinned, revealing sharp, snakelike teeth. "And you will be the one who deals the killing blow. But I could use a warm-up..."

Skylar fell backwards and screamed as Deirdre, whose eyes were now lifeless and hollow, raised the solid gold Millennium Balance over his head and brought it down over her head. The night sky was completely black and moonless as rain and thunder echoed above. Lightening crashed and Yami Deirdre stepped out the front door of his home, sans crutches, and limped through the rain and towards his destination.