Chapter Twelve: Intermission

Malik POV

A long time ago…probably a few thousand years…I met a man.

I was very young at the time. I think at the time, I was just…thirteen, possibly. All I remembered was that…the first day I ever met him; the first day I saw his crimson eyes and startling beautiful silver hair…. it had been the Prince's birthday.

Tenth, or maybe ninth, it was. I don't remember.

But after three thousand years…

I still remember him.

I was thirteen. It was the Pharaoh's tenth birthday. The palace was lined with rich, royal purple curtains and draped with deep wine tapestries. The high windows had been opened to allow the light in, but blocked by thin, transparent silk to keep the heat out. This made the throne-hall-turned-dining hall shaded and cool. I remember longing to lounge in the many dancer pouffes lying about across the room. With the sun out of the way, the light breeze and perfect shade…indeed, palace life was the lap of luxury.

I was a tomb-keeper. However, even though my initiation had been organized for three years before, my father had not passed away yet. As long as he was alive and well, my personal servant Rishid and I managed to convince the young Prince and his father to postpone my initiation.

Despite my fate as a tomb-keeper, I was a happy child. I was always curious, liking the outdoors more so than the in. I loved the luxurious things in life (naturally of course, as my best friend was the Prince of Egypt) and yearned for them like nothing else. I craved adventure, mystery, lust and …love.

But of course, at the age of thirteen, the only thing on my mind was usually how to keep out of trouble for the numerous little crimes I had committed. Like hiding Seth's books…tearing the end of Pharaoh Ahknamkanon's cloak…breaking Sister's priceless scarab necklace…With all of these pesky little childish thoughts in my mind, I suppose I never had given a thought towards the needy, the sympathetic, or the poor.

Even I didn't have much sympathy towards the commoners until the Prince's tenth birthday. As per custom, many of the royal nobles were expected to award the young Prince with new gifts. Since being ten was a bright coming of age (being thirteen, I was already in the prime of my life and ready for marriage….not that I wished for marriage.), all of Egypt was in great celebration. While the Prince sat at the head of the table next to his father, I sat on the Prince's other side, as his guest of honor and most of all, as his friend.

After dinner, we watched as the dancers wove and in and out and sang to merry tunes. We watched as ambassadors brought in their servants to perform plays from far off lands. (It was in one of these plays when I witnessed Il Muto for the first time.) We laughed and drank and sniggered when the harem girls bowed low before the new Prince, each hoping eagerly to be his possible bride.

"Our young prince," they sang. "To you we hope to bring you to paradise."

I burst out laughing when Atemu flushed a rather bright red. His head was at least shorter than my shoulder, and from the way he sat on his wide, puffy cushion next to his six feet eight inch father, Atemu looked cutely like an embarrassed child who didn't know what to do.

The Pharaoh gave a hearty laugh and dismissed the harem girls with a wave of his hand, saying that Atemu was not ready for such things yet. While the palace door opened to greet the more estranged members of the royal court, I bent over and whispered into Atemu's ear, "Bzzz. Bzz….MNH." He gave me a smack on the head and told me not to tell him ever again about the story about the bees and the birds. I snickered and returned to my seat.

As the gifts neared the end, our last estranged member of the royal court, Nadir, walked in through the large, open doors. Seth, curiously enough, was also walking side by side with Nadir. I heard the Pharaoh shake his head with a sighing jingle of his headdress. I immediately understood. Nadir, being such an estranged advisor and guard, had enough wealth to bring the Prince any present in any land. Seth, however, was an orphan boy with not much past, little money, and only intellect and dependency to offer. As a result, he must have been pressured to give the Prince a gift, and must have collaborated with Nadir, who was one of his teachers in self defense.

Nadir, tall, strong, and rather handsome, lowered his head in a bow. His head had been swathed in fine silks and a hood, complete with the rest of his luxuriously soft blue coat and sword. His face, however, held a sort of disheartened look, and I wasn't sure if I was the only one who caught it.

"My Prince," Nadir bowed once more. "Permit me to offer you my gift."

"Explain your gift," Pharaoh prompted. Nadir remained in his bow.

"Sir, it is a gift of great mystery and wonder," Nadir said quietly. "From distant and abandoned shores of Egypt's farthest canal, we found a desolate village and this small wonder. His voice is tremendous, his skill and craft so great…"

"You mean to say you found a servant?" the Pharaoh asked. I saw a brief flicker of a frown across Nadir's face.

"Yes," he said very quietly. "A servant."

"And what else is so wondrous about him?" The Pharaoh nodded.

Nadir slowly raised himself out of the bow and erected himself. "You will see for yourself." Nadir turned and waved his hand. "Bring him in."

Seth nodded his head and called for the guards to bring in this present. At first, though the ropes were pulled and the wheels were heard squeaking, I could see nothing. And then, suddenly, glinting in the light of the doorway, a cage was pulled through, cloaked and concealed in a royal red curtain. I jumped up to crane my neck to see. Seth turned back at us.

"Behold!" he said. "The Child of Destruction!"

The curtain was then ripped away, and the crowd gasped at the cage's contents. Nadir closed his eyes and turned away, quickly gliding towards the Pharaoh. Atemu jumped in his seat and I launched out of mine, my eyes wide.

There, sitting fearfully in the glinting cage, was a child. He could not have been any older than myself…perhaps just a one. But that was possibly where any of the similarities ended. While his entire body was caked with mud and dirt, it was obvious his skin was a pale, translucent white, pure and untouched as the floating lilies in the garden. His hair, at first sight of equal color, I noticed later were a rich, silky silver, soft and malleable as any of the Pharaoh's own jewelry. But his eyes…

…his eyes…

They were beyond anything I would have ever imagined. Bright, vivid and blood red, they brightened and shined like a pair of glittering rubies. They peeked out from the nest of messy silver hair and cragged bangs, darting out so swiftly that I was at once received the impression that the boy had the eyes of a snake.

However, covering the rest of his face, was a mask. The mask was made from a rough, burlap type of material…scratchy, itchy, and hot. I watched in fascination as those blood red eyes glowed so beautifully from beneath his mask…something about him just made me yearn to touch his face and see if his face was as soft as the rest of his pale-skinned body…

However, I must have been the only person in the crowd to believe this boy as something amazing. The harem girls shrieked, the dancers leapt away, and the priests all gasped in horror. I looked around in confusion and realized: the boy was nothing like the rest of us. Dark-skinned, dark-eyed, and dark-haired. To us, he was a monster, an omen, an untouched creature that was not a creation of Ra.

Set…the god of Destruction…

Suddenly, the boy jumped alive from his curled, fetal position. In his full height, I realized that he was most definitely older than me…possibly by two years. His entire body was skin and skeletal, and the skin I once thought as soft and silky looked stretched and tight over his bones. I then realized that his wrists had been chained to the bars of the cage, as were his ankles. He looked like the most helpless yet dangerous of creatures, and the audience was certainly treating him like one.

"What is that thing?" the dancers shrieked. "Such ugly pale skin!"

"He looks like he came from the dead!" another cried.

"THIS is supposed to be a gift to the Prince?"


"This MONSTROSITY?"

"It's not a monstrosity!" Nadir shouted from the Pharaoh's side. "It is a child!"

"It's a wicked child, obviously!" a servant mother shouted. "Oh, look at his wretched skin…I bet he comes right from that terrible village of cutthroats sent by Set himself!"

"You mean Kuru Erun---"

Suddenly, the boy snapped, and his head immediately snapped towards the woman and her companion. With a ferocious roar, he leapt at her from the cage, but was prevented from the chains. The shackles clanged and cackled terribly with his frenzied shouting.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK! YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

"Stop provoking him!" Nadir yelled. Someone shrieked right back.

"Why did you bring him here!"


"The child possesses magician skills!" Nadir retorted. "The boy is intelligent, the boy is witty, he is talented, he is a born singer straight from the heavens…"

"The boy is an ugly, concealed, monstrous freak!"

"Just like that terrible white-haired girl that brought the drought!"

"SHE brought the drought?"

"But of course! And what will HE do? He'll send Set's destruction upon us all…"

"SILENCE."

Suddenly, all the voices hushed into silence immediately, and everyone turned to look at the Pharaoh. He had risen to his fill six and some feet, tall and full and most intimidating. His glare, however, though firm, was soft and sympathetic as they trailed towards the shivering boy, standing there, naked except for a dirty, scratchy sarong and his mask. Ahknemankanon slowly nodded.

"Nadir, why did you bring the child here?"

Nadir slowly stepped up from this place in the shadows, and raised his face. His eyes and lips were set in an expression of deep mourning and pity, but most of all, respect.

"Because the child deserves a chance for his skills," Nadir said quietly. "He is extraordinary, even with his appearance."

"Why does he wear a mask?" the Pharaoh asked.

"He bears a terrible scar that he says brings the power to destroy the world," Nadir breathed. "When Fate allows it to been seen."

The Pharaoh nodded, and we watched as the masked boy slowly lowered himself onto his knees. He looked weak and faint and near death. I stood up suddenly.

"I'll take him!"


Everyone gasped and turned to me, but I stood my ground. "If the Prince doesn't want him, I can have him!" I turned to Nadir. "I'll give him that chance. He can be my servant, and I can arrange any time with you so you may teach him."

The Pharaoh looked at me disapprovingly. "Malik, surely you have enough personal servants…"

I bit my lip and frowned. "Rishid is an admirable servant and I care for him deeply, but I can always take another under my wing."

"And are you up for that responsibility, Malik?"

I stood feverishly. "Yes, I am."

The Pharaoh nodded slowly and turned to Atemu. He gently patted the boy's shoulder.

"Atemu? Do you want to have Nadir's gift?"

Atemu, who was watching the caged boy with wide fascination, slowly shook his head. "He…he looks frightening, Father," Atemu admitted quietly. "But I'm sure Malik can help him."

I grinned proudly. "Damn right."

The Pharaoh sighed and nodded his head. "Alright. Provided that you keep up your studies and make sure he is taken care of, I will entrust him to you, Malik." The Pharoah snapped his fingers and waved at the guards. "Take him to Malik's room. Do not harm him!"

"Just leave him in the cage," Nadir called. "I'll subdue him if anything goes wrong."

"No inhumane methods, Nadir!" the Pharaoh said sharply.

Nadir turned and looked at the Pharaoh. For the first time, I saw a small smile flicker across Nadir's normally serious face.

"Oh no no, Pharaoh," Nadir bowed. "Bakura and I get along quite well."

Bakura POV, 3000 years previous

I was afraid.

Even in all of my fifteen years trekking the desolate sands and hills and mounds and the Sahara, I had never been afraid as I was then. The guards wheeled me away, but I was too weak to even realize where we were headed. The humility of being chained like a beaten animal ate at my pride, but as the guards pushed my cart away, I slowly realized that I had always been treated like a beaten animal anyway.

As a small child, living in the dirty streets of Kuru Eruna, I had always been ostracized because of my demon-white hair and devil-light skin. In a far away town, I remembered hearing of a girl who had the same conditions I had, and she was rumored to have brought on the drought, the famine, and the locusts. As a result, my mother, weakened by my childbirth, constantly hid me away from harm's way. However, despite her efforts, I actually managed to make a couple of friends with my fevered determination and my rather cocky pride. I hadn't given a damn about my looks when I was a child, and for some reason, smaller children and little animals admired me for that, and trailed about me as though I was a leader.

Among them, though I was feared in Kuru Eruna, I was also respected. I had power.

My mother, however, was the kindest. Looking ten times older than she truly was, she always managed to keep after me, even after my father left the family for someone more worthy. She hadn't left me, even though I was certain that with her dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin and my pale hair, blood red eyes, and pale skin, slowly, I was driving her mad from pressure.

She would come back home with scratches and bruises on her face. When I asked what had happened, she always dismissed me and quickly made my supper to distract me. Later I found out that most of my littler friends had been punished by their parents to keep away from me, and through hatred, they had stoned my mother back to her house.

I got angry that time, and left in an uncontrollable rage .My mother caught me before I could do something stupid, and quickly rocked me back to calmness. When I nearly dozed off in her soft arms, I felt her hot face in my back, and her tears trickling down my skeleton spine.

Now, lying here in the cage, I wondered why I had survived. Why I was here in the palace, and why when Nadir, the only man who had ever caught me stealing, was giving me up to a sickening group of high-class murderers. After that particular disaster, my very soul was filled with a monster more twisted than that of my scarred face and wicked skin…

At some point, the world before me turned black. I faintly heard the squeaking of the wheels as my cart was rolled into a large, luxurious room. I bristled a bit at the faint, fuzzed vision of peacock headdresses, linen mattresses, cool alabaster and mounds of gold. The rich, the mighty, the royalty…how they made me sick with their spoils and their pillage!

I landed forwards onto my front in a collapse. The chains around my wrists and ankles echoed coldly behind me as my vision gave way. However, as I was about to slip into my blessed unconsciousness, I saw the door open, and blearily, I saw a boy.

A boy with such beautiful…lavender eyes…

Malik POV

I waited a long while before the boy finally stirred. The guests were all still attending the banquet, and graciously, his Majesty had permitted me my absence. So, I decided to use my time wisely. I watched as my new white-haired servant struggle to regain his consciousness.

When I saw him twitch, I succinctly asked the guards to leave the premise of my room. If he were to do me any harm, he could not get at me from the cage. If he was dangerous, Rishid was always behind me, the great servant that he was, and he would always protect me.

The guards twiddled their ways out of my room, looking back nervously at the masked boy. When the door finally shut, the boy gave a groggy moan and raised his head. I sat on a nearby pouch of pouffe and crossed my arms, watching him steadily.

He slowly sat back on his haunches, looking from side to side blearily, like an animal reawakened from hibernation and curious of his new surroundings of spring. When his red eyes caught sight of me, immediately, an animalistic hiss escaped his lips and he jumped to attention, his arms raised for defense, his legs coiled to pounce. Rishid was up immediately from his corner to protect me.

I raised my hand to command Rishid down. He obeyed and slowly sat behind him, watching my new servant wearily. The white-haired boy glared at me menacingly, but I could tell from his protruding ribs and obvious malnutrition, this boy was as capable of hurting me as a wounded jackal.

"Calm down," I smiled. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The boy didn't reply, but I saw his wide red eyes glower and narrow at me suspiciously, obviously disbelieving my words. I smirked slightly and stood up slowly, putting my hands behind back calmly. "You can just relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

He did not relax, but I saw his hands falter and shake slightly in confusion. He was unarmed, apparently starving and previously beaten, and yet, I was not harming him. This seemed to be a new concept to him, one that he had never heard of before.

When I saw that he didn't relinquish his suspicion, I sighed and showed my hands.

"Look. I am unarmed, my guards are outside, and Rishid will not harm you unless you do me danger. Now…" I took a step closer to the cage. "Will you calm down?"

The boy breathed heavily, watching me warily through the holes in his mask. His narrowed eyes narrowed even more, but he dropped his arms.

"You say you will do me no harm, and yet I am in a cage," he said simply. I was mildly surprised by his voice. Though rough from lack of water, it still had a very soft and manipulative texture to it…like a perfumed breeze of a serpent's slither.

I nodded and shrugged. "You needn't be."

His eyes flashed at me. "Why am I here?" he demanded, his voice losing its soft tenderness and now harsh and hard. I clucked my tongue and looked at him shrewdly.

"That's no way to speak with your savior."

"Savior my ass!" he shouted at me. He grabbed one of the bars of the cage and threw the chain at me. "Release me at once!"

"You certainly have a lot of gratitude for someone who saved your life!" I retorted sarcastically. "Look, mister, I just saved your life back there. Did you want to become a slave to the palace prince?"

"And what am I now regardless?" he shot back at me sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and huffed.

"At least I will not treat you as a slave so long as you don't treat me with such crudeness." I crossed my arms and huffed at him. "Sit down, for Ra's sake! I'm not going to hurt you!" To show my frustration, I stalked away and landed grumpily onto my pouffe. I stared out of the nearby balcony window darkly.

Slowly, I heard the faint clinking of the chains as I heard him slowly sink to his knees. Faintly, I could still hear his rasped breathing, as though he was still wary and cautious of me. Nevertheless, after a few minutes passed away, I heard him sit onto the ground of the cage, and the chain clacking emptily on the floor.

His voice floated towards me, and once again, it was soft and quiet.

"What are you going to do with me?" Regardless of its silky texture, his tone clearly ended with a harsh, wary warning, as though he was suspicious that I might still hurt him. I sighed and turned to look at him sharply.

"Nothing," I said again. He scoffed at me.

"As if. If it was nothing, I wouldn't be here," he sneered at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Will you quit it? I brought you here so you wouldn't be the prince's boy toy. To be frank, I actually don't know what to do with you." I looked away thoughtfully, thinking deeply. "Ah! I know! You shall be my companion!"

"Companion?" the white-haired boy repeated dully. "Right. And you prefer your bosom companions locked up in a miserable cage and chained to the bars? What interesting tastes…"

I rolled my eyes again. "You are insufferable!"

"So I've been told," he replied back silkily.

I threw my hands out in exasperation. "Look, buddy. Show me some gratitude for helping you out so much! Would you rather be my 'bosom' companion rather than to become some dirty labourer or a worthless servant?"

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?" he snapped at me. "As your 'bosom' companion?"
"I don't know!" I yelled at him. "I nev---"

I quickly shut my mouth, and glowered at him. For a moment, his dark eyes suddenly twinkled curiously, as though he hadn't expected to take me aback. He slowly cocked his head to one side quizzically. I glared at him and looked away.

"I never really had any friends," I mumbled to him. Despite my back being towards him, I could feel his slight surprise. Granted, that was abruptly changed to his usual brash and inconsiderate attitude.

"Oh, a pity prince," he mocked. "What, does the little prince have no one to play with?"

"Shut up!" I snapped at him. "If you really don't want to be with me, then I can send you right back to where you were! Any other decent person would at least accept this type of consideration, except for you! Well fine!"

I stomped my foot and stomped towards the cage. With all my strength I pushed against it, shoving it towards the door.

"If you really want to just be on your own, then FINE WITH ME!" I yelled. "I don't need your ungrateful presence anyway! GO AWAY!"

"OW!"

In my unexpected shove, I hadn't realized that I had pushed so hard that he had fallen over. A sudden concern struck me when I saw him huddled on the ground, nursing something that I could not see. When he turned to give me a little scowl, I saw blood smeared on his mask.

"You're hurt!" I gasped.

Quickly, without a thought, I rushed to the door of the cage and struggled to unlock it. While was busy trying to open the cage door, the white-haired boy immediately jumped and swayed on his feet, before landing weakly against the farthest corner of the cage. When the door was open, I sighed and rushed to his side.

"You're so stupid," I muttered. "No no! I'm not going to hurt you! Geez…"

He stared at me through wide eyes behind his mask. I slowly sat onto my haunches and reached out my hands, gesturing to him that I was trying to help him. For a moment, all his darkness and rage behind his eyes were gone, and instead, they were replaced with something so innocent, so confused that I was suddenly struck with the idea that… despite his pillaging and rough attitude, he was still a child…deep inside.

His eyes…they reflected such innocent confusion that for a moment, I had to wonder whether the boy had ever known kindness before. The entire situation that I'd help him seemed so new to him that he suddenly looked…rather helpless.

I slowly inched my hands towards his arms, where he was hiding his left hand with his right arm. He flinched and tried to snarl at me, but I gently rested my hand against his hair, and softly caressed his strands.

Oh, what marvelous silk…

He flinched at my touch and looked at me with such utmost confusion I immediately lost my temper. Instead, I focused on calming him down and taking care of his wound. Without even considering how he would react if I got too close, I immediately crawled over his legs in effort to reach his left hand.

"What…what are you doing?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. I didn't look at him, but instead reached towards his left hand.

"Helping," I said simply. With my hand on his right wrist, I gently managed to pry his hand away from his left, and eyed the bleeding, discolored slash on his left arm. "What happened?"

He looked ate me bewilderedly for a moment, before staring embarrassedly at the ground. "Chain," he mumbled. "It's nothing….landed on it in a bad way I guess…"

His breath hitched when I gently brushed my fingers over the wound. When I pulled his wrist towards me, I was met with little effort. For this, I smiled.

"I hope it's not infected," I said softly. I heard him make a confused, puzzled sort of noise from the back of his throat as I inspected his wrist. "Infections are nasty business."

I slowly pulled his arm towards me, gently so I wouldn't jostle him. My eyes followed up his bony arm and trailed along his equally skeletal shoulders. Below them, his ribs stuck out at me, clearly seen from his light, pale skin.

I then realized that his skin wasn't only just naturally pale, it was also sick.

I quickly turned to Rishid. "Rishid! Get me some bandages and a cover and pillow and a mattress! And water! And food!"

Rishid rose and bowed hastily. "Yes, Master Malik." Quickly, he left the room to obey my words. I returned to the white-haired boy and gently rubbed his arm underneath the cut.

"You're sick," I said quietly. "You really need to take better care of yourself."

The white-haired boy didn't reply, merely staring transfixed on my fingers as I soothed them over his wrist and arms. I smiled and rubbed his upper arm in effort to comfort him.

"We'll get you something to eat," I said. "You look like skin and bones! And are you warm underneath that mask? Do you have a fever? Or a cold? Don't worry…. we'll get you someplace warm to sleep. If Rishid doesn't come back with some mattresses or a blanket, I'll ask the guards to take out these chains and you can sleep in my bed."

He looked up. "Your…bed?" he repeated at me.

I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, after we give you a shower and all…you smell pretty bad." I flashed him a grin and brightened when I saw a hesitant, unsure one in return. "What's your name?"

My new companion raised his eyes and looked at my strangely. His gaze returned to my hands, so tenderly holding his wrist. "…Why do you want to know?" he asked warily.

I sighed exasperatedly and moved the cuff of the chain further down his wrist so that it would not agitate his wound. "Well, since you'll be living with me from now on," I said cheerfully, "I need to know what to call you."

His eyes glinted carefully at me. "Don't palace brats usually call their servants 'slave' or something degrading of the sort?" Though his words were harsh, his tone was quiet, as though he was just making sure of something he didn't quite understand. I blew my bangs from my eyes.

"Not all 'palace brats'," I huffed. "I'm a servant too, technically. And I always call my servants by their names anyway."

"Why?" he asked.

"Cause they're special to me," I replied. "You don't call someone you think is special 'slave' or 'stupidhead' or 'jerk'."

"And me…?" he asked quietly, letting the question linger.

I gently wrapped my hand around his wound, letting the blood soak my sleeve. He looked at me with such pure puzzlement that I regretted being so mean to him in the beginning. With a smile, I raised his hand to my cheek, and gave it a small nuzzle.

"What's your name?" I asked gently. He looked at me unsurely.

"…Bakura."

I smiled cheerfully and nuzzled his hand. "Then that's what I'll call you from now on."

Bakura POV

I was astounded. This….beauteous thing of a palace brat, willingly touching my demon skin?

And the way he said my name after that…"Bakura"…my name had always been mixed with something akin to contempt and disgust, but falling from his lips, my name sounded like some heaven god.

And his name as well. After his servant had returned, he insisted I call him by name. After all, I was now a 'companion'…not a servant, not a slave, not expected to do much other than stay by his side.

"My name is Malik," he said happily at me. "And you'll hang out with me. We'll always be together. Bakura and Malik."

Bakura and Malik…those two names felt so awkward on my tongue. I was also confused to his personality. One moment, he was a fiery, hell-spitting, back-talking, impudent, stupid little jerk…and then the next, he was smiling at me all happily, like a little child who had found someone to play with. Like a cute child who had found someone to play with.

I fell unconscious after that. His servant fed me some potion to help relieve the pain and help me regain back my nutrients, but I was too tired to do much. Though Malik wanted to move me, the incompetent guards had lost their keys, and for the night, I had to remain in the cage. Regardless, Malik stayed by my side as Rishid expertly bandaged my bloody wrist up, which had been scratched raw from the tightness of the chain and burned from the hot metal.

I fell asleep next to an angel that night. Too bad I was too delirious to remember much.

But as I drifted away to darkness, I remember feeling his soft hand, resting against my mask.