Bakura sighed, letting his annoyance show on his face as he heard the locks click for the second time. He had yet to find out what they were doing here, although he had gathered that there was some kind of war going on. The battle that had finished when they had been brought here was obviously not the end of these people's war. If it was, they would have had no reason to keep guards posted, not just at their door, but all over the fortress. The sounds had woken Bakura up several times, although Ryou didn't seem to have noticed them at all, and Anzu hadn't even stirred.
At least if they were not trusted, they had not yet been awarded the status of enemies, nor were they thought of as dangerous. Of course, that did make sense under the circumstances, considering that most people here were trained for battle, and had the build to show it. Ryou might have quite a good turn of speed when he chose, but the few muscles that Bakura had managed to build up in his host's body were flat and wiry, not suited to the type of combat he had witnessed.
He gave the body back to Ryou for a while as he thought this out carefully. He had done a basic assessment of the situation last night, but now that he was rested it was time to be more thorough. They had obviously been sent to a much more primitive time then Ryou's, although he thought that the civilization was at least at the level that his own had been, and was certainly much farther along in the production of weapons. He thought, judging by the facilities – his nose wrinkled at the scent of the chamber pot in Ryou's nose – or lack of them, that he was in an age corresponding to Europe's Medieval Ages. The style of combat he had observed – based on brute strength, but with evidence of blasting fire used on the walls he had seen – bore him out on his guess, and he decided that one thing at least was certain enough to share with Ryou the next time his host asked why a thing was different from how it was at home.
Almost too certain to be mentioned was the fact that no one here spoke any language that he had ever heard – and since he had lived through the rise and fall of many of Earth's civilizations he knew quite a few. This needed to be thought through, however, as it was part of the reason why they were here. Perhaps if he had recognized one of the languages Ryou and Anzu would have been able to explain what had happened to the satisfaction of the old man, but they would certainly not be able to convince those without the aura of magic around them. He thought that for now it would most likely be best to simply fade into the background, and hope that the people here would grow certain enough to relax their guard and allow Bakura a chance to explore the strange magics of this place further.
The magic – that was another problem. He could still use his magic – he had made sure of that earlier – but to use the magics that he had come to rely on in Ryou's day were he had to reach through the barrier between the worlds. He didn't even know how he did it. If he knew, then he could use that knowledge to find a way back. Instead, he found that reaching through the barrier between this world and the Shadow Realm came to him as naturally as breaching the wall from his world had. The magics that he had used in Egypt were still open to him, and for those he could simply draw on the latent energy in this world, but he didn't know what the consequences of reaching to his own world from this one would be. He would have to give up using Shadow magic and rely on his own innate talent while he was here, he decided. It would be safest, and much as it galled him, while he was in this strange place it was best to be cautious.
For allies he had only Ryou and Anzu, both of whom had turned to him, as being the one who knew most about magic, to solve their problems for them. It was strange, but in a way he was enjoying being here. Having something productive to do rather than merely thinking up new ways to kill Atemu and gain his puzzle had woken him up out of the unthinking daze he had been in ever since Zoku had been destroyed in the memory game he had played with the Pharaoh. Zoku's destruction had left him able to be clearly himself for the first time he could remember, but it had been such a shock to him that he hadn't actively reacted to it. Nothing had changed.
Now, Bakura thought, everything had changed: the world, the situation, everything. Having Ryou and Anzu relying on him was a strange feeling, but it felt... good, somehow. Fighting the Pharaoh had never brought him that strange, warm feeling that he got when they looked to him with trusting eyes, believing that he could make everything right again.
Well, he would try. This was a new place, and perhaps it would become a new beginning for him. The old mage seemed as if he would be sympathetic once the language barrier had been overcome, and perhaps the dwarf could be an ally also. It all depended on what he did now. When Bakura turned his attention once more to seeing the real world through Ryou's eyes a tiny smile brightened his face.