(Cat-earred author sits in her regular purple kimono as she fiddles with a State Alchemist Pocketwatch. Upon noticing the approaching readers, she quickly hides it.)

It's been a while, min'na-san! (bows)

Now, steady readers of Dragon Kings, prepare to be amazed!

For this Chapter will NOT be like the others!

How, you ask?

(Flips open her fan, revealing the kanji for 'secret')

Read and find out!

- - -

- - -

Chapter Four: Kingdom of the Gold Dragon...

Among the vast sad dunes the figure sat by his horse as it pawed at the fine ground. His torn cloak lifted up as it caught a breeze and he gazed up at the intense blue sky, his dark amethyst-colored eyes glowing from under the shade of his hood as he squinted at the slight burn of the azure sky.

A rumble in the ground made the horse bring its head up and perk his ears to listen, and its rider brought his gaze back down to the ground he was so familiar with. A moment of silence passed before dozens of creatures that looked much like the sea-dwelling creatures called mantarays burst from the dunes and flew by him, continuing their trip West as they always did this time of the year.

These creatures, Sand Mantas as the people of the deserts called them, were well over the size of a house, and were known to become ten times bigger as they progressed through life. They had teeth as sharp of swords that could grind bones into powder, and not many people were inclined to try fighting them.

This was what he had been waiting for.

With a smile, the cloaked youth mounted his horse and headed directly towards the herd of flying creatures. He started off in a trot but gradually quickened his pace into a full run until he leapt into the air.

His horse landed on the back of one Sand Manta, running along it until it came time to jump to another. He went on like this for five more turns and leapt off to land on the ground, just barely missing the crushing jaws of one of the creatures.

When he landed on the sand again, his horse seemed ready to collapse, but went on running back home. The increase in speed brought a gust of wind up and the hood of the riders cloak flew off to reveal the youth's grinning face.

He appeared to be around seventeen; his skin was rich brown, his hair was champaign-blond and went down just past his shoulders in unruly locks. Around his neck he wore three gold bands, similar armbands and gauntlets, and gold arrowheads dangled from his ears.

Filled with excitement as he continued to ride into the desert, the youth spread his arms and flung his head back, howling to the sun.

His name was Malik Ishtar, and he was the lastborn of the Tombkeepers.

After many long hours of riding through the day, Malik returned to the desert kingdom of the Gold Dragon. It was a grand city of white stone, though it constantly looked like gold due to the sand surrounding and reflecting off it. The city spread for out for many miles, but most of it was the wall surrounding the palace.

The main gate was lined by six perching dragons on either side of the road to the gate, and two large stone figures stood on either side of the gate doors. The gate was opened for Malik and he slowly rode his horse into the palace grounds.

The palace itself was in the very center, surrounded by various other buildings for priests, guards, servants and any other residents of the palace.

Malik rode to the stables, which lay at the far end of the palace grounds, and rid his horse of its saddle bridle before leaving the stableboys to tend to his needs. From his faded, hooded yellow shirt and sandy-colored pants with pockets leading down his legs, one would never expect him to be a resident of such royal apartments; however, as his older sister was of a surprisingly high position, Malik was treated well.

The youth made his way around the palace and entered the gardens and his senses were filled with sight, sound and smells of the exotic flowers, trees and the small spring bubbling in the very center. Malik rid himself of his cloak, shaking it and bringing up a cloud of sand, but he went on smiling, even as he brushed more sand from his hair.

"Master Malik!"

At his name, he turned his amethyst gaze towards the path to his left to find his friend and adopted older brother hurrying toward him. The man appeared to be in his early twenties; he had the same richly dark skin as Malik, however the left side of his face was tatooed with desert symbols with hidden meanings. His head was mostly shaved and the black hair that remained was gathered into a tail at the back of his head, and his eyes were goldish brown and resembled those of a hawk.

"Rishid!" Malik smiled and met his companion half-way. "I'm sorry I'm late, I lost track of how far I was going. But I found a herd of Sand Mantas on the way back!"

The man called Rishid sighed. "I would be happy for you, but the Lady Isis...noticed your absence."

At this, Malik hissed, as though he had been burned. "Well...that's, uh..." He chuckled nervously and scratched his head thoughtfully. After a few moments, he smiled with an idea. "I know! I can tell her I was wandering around the outer wall and..."

The boy trailed off as he noticed Rishid was looking past him, his hawk-like gaze wide and worried. Malik went rigid and began sweating nervously as he finally acknowledged the presence behind him; he could practically feel the eyes scorching the back of his head and hesitated in turning around.

However, he took a deep breath and slowly met the woman's soft blue gaze. The eyes were placed within a dark face framed by black hair, some braided by gold bands that hung in front of her ears. She wore a pure white, sleeveless dress with a gold headdress, bangles, armbands and a necklace bearing the eye of Horus around her neck.

"Isi--"

Malik was cut off when the woman's hand connected with her younger brother's cheek in a blur of gold and the sound of lightning mixed with the soft ringing of her braclets.

Isis was the only preistess among the Pharoah's High Court, and the youngest member as well. However, despite her delicate countenance, Isis was like a cobra when angered.

And at present, she was very angry.

"A day and a half you were gone," she said darkly, "and you were hoping 'wandering by the wall' would have made up for that!"

Malik covered his reddening cheek with his own hand. "Well, it was worth a try," he murmured.

Isis sighed, her fury and wrath ebbing away at her brother's lack of retaliation. "Malik..." She took the youth into her arms and held him tightly. "What am I supposed to do with you? What can I do to make you happy? You're running away from even me now..."

Malik looked over his sister's shoulder sadly and returned the embrace. "I'm not..."

- - -

In the throne room of the palace the Pharaoh Atem sat on the dais watching as the dancers spun and twirled, bells and bracelets ringing in time with the music.

Anyone who visited the Black Dragon Kingdom far, far to the west and then came to the Gold Dragon regions would have had to admit to finding some similarities between the prince of the western forests and the king of the desert. Both were somewhat short, and had the same spikey black hair rimmed with red, gold bangs--some of the gold bangs actually went up--however there were enough differences between the two to say they were not the same person.

Atem, though just as small as prince Yuugi, carried himself in a way that made him appear taller; his skin was the usual dark of the desert-dwelling people, his eyes were finely shaped and the color of the rarest rubies. He wore white robes that went down to his knees with a pale blue loin cloth and a rich violet cape; his anklets, bracelets, rings, armbands, choker and earrings were carved with the same beautiful waves of craftsmanship, but the true beauty lay in the young ruler's crown.

On his brow was a golden crown with the Eye of Horus in the center and wing-like blades that reached out into his hair. This crown had been worn by a thousand Pharoahs before him, and he expected it to be worn by a thousand more after him.

Or at least...he prayed that was how life would go on.

For some time now his people had been meeting with opposition from soldiers of foreign birth, and these intruders continued to attack whoever they came across using strange powers that uprooted the ground and made weapons from the very rocks. However, those soldiers were a safe distance from the kingdom as of yet, and he had positioned patrolmen to watch the approaching army and report any activities. During this time, Atem's people had done well to stay within the city walls.

Save for one.

Atem smiled as he recalled High Priestess Isis' raged pacing all through the night at the knowledge of her brother's absence. That boy was a free spirit, and although he did cause some problems the Pharoah found no severety in them. Malik had not gone against the old teachings, nor had he attempted to destroy anything.

The others among the high court had never really approved of the Priestess' brother's presence much less his constant unexcused absences, but the previous Pharoah would hear none of it and welcomed the boy with open arms. Thus, Atem felt obligated to continue to offer guidance and safety to Malik in his father's stead. However, the boy often escaped even the Pharoah's watchful gaze to wander in the desert looking for whatever there was to see.

Such activities were punished, but Atem kept them from being too severe...

- - -

For his most recent absence, Malik was to help the shrine maidens in the temples.

He never really liked it, but the maidens were sweet and didn't tease him anymore. He wasn't sure if it was because they had come to some sort friendship, or because he had grown into such a handsome young man and they wanted to catch his eye.

However, during his punishments in the temples, his eyes were always on the priests and anyone else who came to study the art of shamanism.

Unlike the Red Dragon Kingdom who studied magic as a defense, and those of the White Dragon Kingdom who used the science of Alchemy as a benefit, the Shamanism of the Gold Dragon Kingdom was a part of their religious duties. However, like the White and Red Kingdoms only a select few were able to use such abilities, and those people were only the ones who were allowed access to the ancient texts.

And those people were the priests and members of the royal family.

But that never stopped Malik, but then, if even the Pharoah couldn't, who could? While working, the boy would occaisionally 'glance' at materials he was to put away and 'accidently' copy a few directions. Of course, his sister had no knowledge of his activities, or if she did, she never did anything to stop him--so that left him to believe she didn't know.

That was one of the reasons he escaped from the city as often as he could, to practice communicating with the dead, integrating them with his body and even using attacks from the spirit plane. Though his sister was a High Priestess, she would not be able to defend him from the wrath of the other priests for such a crime, and he was uncertain if the Pharoah would even try. Knowledge of the astral powers were strictly for those of incredibly high positions, even Isis had only seen one of them and for only a brief time.

Malik was convinced it was because Isis was the only High Priestess and a prodigy that the other priests had kept such knowledge from her, but to state his accusation could possibly mean his death and his sister's loss of status as Priestess. He didn't care much for his own life--he didn't feel he was worth that much--but for his sister's sake he would keep silent for as long as it was necessary.

He doubted she would understand why he wanted to learn such things...

"Malik."

At his name, the youth turned to face Kalim, one of the Priests which served alongside his sister, the one who held the golden scales used in sentencing criminals and lost souls. Malik made a point in avoiding any of the priests, but if he had to meet any--especially in the temple--the last would be Kalim.

"There is something I must discuss with you," the priest motioned for the boy to follow, and not about to argue, he did so. "I have been watching you for some time, Malik, and I am well aware of your investigating of the scrolls." Malik held his breath; he figured that he would be found out eventually, but he had hoped it would have been by his sister and not so soon.

"To communicate with the dead is a very dangerous activity," Kalim said as they came to a halt in the gardens. "Those who have done so without proper knowledge of the spirits have lost their salvation and sanity. There was one such man who learned of the power to see the spirit plane, to call forth the dead, who desperately wanted to see the family that had been killed. He succeeded in finding his family and integrating them with his body..."

"But he made the mistake of attempting this with more than one soul," he went on. "This allowed several hundred other spirits to enter his body as well." At this, Kalim looked at Malik gravely. "That man was a Ardeshen, Pharoah of the fifth dynasty."

Malik had heard stories of the Pharoah Ardeshen, driven mad from his desperation to keep his family in a world no longer meant for them.

"If such powers could crush a man with power over heaven and earth, they could very well kill a boy like you a thousand times over," Kalim said. "So I offer my only warning: do not meddle with knowledge not meant for you." The priest walked past Malik back towards the temple.

"High Preist Kalim...?"

The man stopped and looked back at the boy; Malik did not turn to face him.

"When a man is killed, the murderer is condemned to purgatory," Malik said. "But...if he didn't know how he killed that person..." The memory of awakening covered in blood resurfaced, but he pushed it back and continued. "Wouldn't the risk of madness be worth it to at least ask for forgiveness, or an explanation?"

Kalim did not reply as he turned away and continued walking. After so long of weighing hearts according to their crimes, he had forgotten the meaning of forgiveness...

Malik clenched his fists, managing to break the skin and draw blood.

Why could no one answer his questions? Why did everyone always remain silent?

Perhaps it was because they had no answer to give him, or possibly they didn't feel he deserved an answer.

That was why he felt he had to learn the secrets of Shamanism, why he had to speak with one who had passed on, why he had to defy the rules set by the high priests. And that was why he would continue to study, whether Kalim revealed his work to the Pharoah or not.

Malik refused to stop when he had barely scratched the surface, when he had only recently started to show some progress in his studies.

...When he had yet to reach his father on the other side of the river.

Isis stood behind a nearby fruit tree, watching in silence. Her eyes saddened, but she knew she could do nothing for him; he had been drifted form her reach since...the 'incident.' He had been trying all this time to make amends, but never found anything that could fill the void of pain he had created with his own two hands.

Turning away from the scene, the Priestess headed back towards the temple.

- - -

Malik sat in his room as Rishid bandaged his hands.

"How did you say this happened?" The man asked.

"Oh, I just...picked something up and it cut me a bit," Malik lied, and he knew Rishid could tell it was a lie. With a simple stare from his friend, the boy sighed. "I got upset...with Priest Kalim, and myself..."

Rishid nodded. "I understand, Master Malik." The man stood up, gathering the healing supplies and heading for the door. "The clothes the Pharoah requested for you are over there," he said, pointing to the partition at the end of the room. "Whenever you're ready."

The boy nodded as Rishid closed the door behind himself, and proceeded to remove his current attire. As he did so, he slowly, hesitantly reached one hand over his shoulder and just barely touched the edge of the patterned scar on his back.

...The boy lay on his stomach, his bare back exposed to the hooded man as he drew his knife.

The child pulled fruitlessly at the ropes binding his wrists, keeping him defenseless. Tears poured down his already wet cheeks as he saw the firelight flash against the blade and in the hooded man's eyes.

"No!" The boy cried as he continued to struggle against his bindings, making his wrists burn and bleed. "Stop! Don't!"

The man regarded the pleas as if the boy had not spoken at all. He placed his hand on the child's head, more to steady than comfort him.

"Please...!" The boy begged, closing his eyes tightly. "Father...! Don't do this...!"

Without a word, the man brought the knife down and proceeded to carve into his son's back...

"Malik."

At his name, snapped the youth out of his memory and he peeked out from behind the partition to find the Pharoah Atem standing on the other side. Malik quickly pulled on the shirt Rishid had set out for him and bowed. "My Lord Pharoah."

Atem looked at the youth, his ruby eyes full of concern. "Are you alright? I heard you injured your hands earlier."

Malik forced a smiled and held up his bandaged hands. "It's nothing," he replied. "Just a small cut or two." He then, without realizing it, reached back over his shoulder and again touched the edge of the scars.

The Pharoah caught this and his gaze saddened. He knew of Malik's other wounds; it pained him to know that such agonies had been inflicted on him when he was still but a child. However, along with his sadness and pity, Atem had also been intrigued by the ornate markings. And for this reason, Atem managed to smile. "Malik..."

The young man turned his attention to his king.

"There is something I found that I believe might interest you," he said. "Could you come to the riverside temple after the feast?"

Malik blinked, then nodded quickly. "Of course, my lord."

"Well then!" Atem smiled and turned to head towards the doors. "Finish dressing and hurry to the banquet hall. After today's chores and those of tomorrow, I expect you will be wanting something to keep your strength up."

Malik managed a genuine smile as he watched the Pharoah leave, and proceeded to pull on the rest of his garments.

- - -

The hall was filled with light, music, and dancers as everyone sat on the cushions that lined the room. Malik sat with his sister and Rishid, watching the dancers and musicians.

However, he could not relax completely; he could feel the disapproving gazes of the other preists sitting across the way. He had many urges to make faces and gestures at them, but held himself back for his sister's sake. He hated the preists, every one of them, greatly; if he didn't have to worry about damaging his sister's position as preistess, he would have pulled a couple of things by now.

"Malik." The boy's amethyst gaze shot to his sister. "You look very nice tonight," the woman smiled.

He nodded and smiled gently.

The hall was suddenly interrupted when one of Atem's patrolmen came running in and fell to his knees at the steps of the dais. "Lord Pharoah! Urgent news!"

"Speak," Atem nodded.

"The foreign troops invading, they pulled out!" The banquet hall was filled with gasps and murmurs. "Someone, I believe to be a messenger, rode into their camp and they immediately pulled out!"

Atem thought a moment in silence. He called his attendant Siamun over and whispered something to him; the old man nodded and rushed away. The Pharoah then looked back at the man. "Very good," he nodded. "You should rest, then return to the lookout tomorrow and tell the rest of the men to return as well."

The feast was finished quickly after that.

- - -

After changing into regular attire, Isis went her brother's room. However, she was surpriesed to find only Rishid there.

"Rishid, where is Malik?"

"Master Malik said he was to meet with the Pharoah after the feast," the man replied as he finished folding Malik's banquet clothes. "He said he would be at the riverside temple perhaps until late."

Isis' eyes widened, then saddened. "Rishid...the sun has been down for hours..."

The hawk-eyed man nodded solemnly. "I am aware of that, as is Master Malik, I am sure."

The priestess sighed and looked out the window of her younger brother's room that faced the East. 'Malik...'

Suddenly, her tauk began to glow gold and she clasped it in her hand...

Green light.

Gold light.

A gold dragon.

Her eyes snapped open and she turend to Rishid. "We must assmble the Priests!" She said. "I sense a forboding presence in the near future! We must protect the Pharoah!"

- - -

Malik stood in the doorway leading out into the courtyard, at the very edge of the light the torches cast on the ground. He could see the temple the Pharoah waited in rather clearly, the torches lighting the way.

But even so, he hesitated in stepping out of the direct light of the torches and into the shadows of night.

Truth be told, Malik Ishtar was terrified of the dark. Many bore such fears of the darkness as children and eventually grew out of them.

It was not the same for Malik, one who was raised more than half his life in the darkness of the underground. For him, even falling asleep was frightening, because there was always the fear of waking up covered in the blood of someone he loved again.

The moon came out from behind the clouds, bathing the courtyard in silvery light, and Malik made a mad dash for the temple. Noticing more clouds beginning to cover the moon, he pushed himself harder, clamping his eyes shut to avoid seeing the monster he feared and hated chasing after him.

Malik tripped when his feet met the stairs and he fell into the protective beam of torchlight and he lay there for a few moments breathing. When he finally caught himself, he pushed himself up, dusted himself off and proceeded into the temple.

Dedicated to the river gods, the statues that lined the halls bore features of water dwelling animals and spirits. Malik was used to these gruesome, honorable figures after so many visits with his sister to pay homage to them over the past four years. Spotting light shining from an open room Malik recognized as a scroll room, he went inside and found Atem sitting at one of the desks reading a scroll he had laid out.

"Pharoah Atem."

The young king turned and smiled. "Ah, good! I was worried someone had caught you as a theif."

Malik realized that he must have taken too long in arriving and bowed. "I apologize for being late, master."

Atem waved his hand. "It's alright." He stood up and motioned for the youth to sit. "Here; this is what I wanted to show you."

Before Malik could even take half a step, an unfamiliar voice cut through the dark of the room. "That is going to have to wait, pal."

Malik and Atem both jumped to attention, their strange eyes shooting towards the speaker who stood in the shadows of the corner. With the help of the torchlight, Malik was able to make out that the stranger was obviously foreign with his pale skin, but was only barely nineteen at the most; his hair was a chestnut-brown color and went out in various spikes, his bangs held down by a pair of goggles just above his slate-blue eyes. He wore a sleeveless, faded red shirt with various metal buttons and a couple belts, some holding his shoulder guards in place; gauntlets went up just past his elbows and he wore dark blue pants and dusty brown-red boots. Malik was able to catch sight of a strange blue-green stone embedded in a ring on the stranger's right hand.

"Identify yourself," Atem commanded.

The young man grinned, displaying perfect white teeth. "Valon." He then reached behind him and in a second ran at Atem with a short sword in hand.

Luckily, the Pharoah also drew the sword he always kept with him and blocked the blow. However, the intruder, Valon, was smiling; he was actually smiling as if nothing was wrong! Atem couldn't understand how his opponent could appear so calm, but didn't have much time to ponder on it before Malik jumped into the fray and Valon just barely blocked the youth's sword with the gauntlet on his left arm.

Though he was caught off guard, Valon's smile quickly returned. "Well, this is just a tad bit unfair, idn't it?" He then pushed Malik's blade away and quickly drew a second short sword to block another strike.

"Pharoah! Malik!" Echoed a series of voices, making the two dark-skinned youths glance over their shoulders towards the door.

Valon took their distraction as an opportunity, kicking Malik in the stomach and grabbing Atem by the throat held him against a bookcase. The sandy-haired youth quickly recovered from the blow, and jumping back up, he struck Valon's arm directly. But his amethyst eyes widened in shock when he realized his blade had not drawn a single drop of blood; Malik's blade liquified in his hands and wrapped around Valon's arm, forming the left arm of a suit of armor.

Not allowing him any time to recover from, Valon promptly backhanded Malik, then kicked him out the door where he collided with Rishid and they both slammed into the wall.

Looking back at Atem, Valon grinned. "Cool trick, huh?"

"Are you...in league with the army that pulled out this morning?" The Pharoah rasped.

"Ah, Hell no!" Valon chuckled. "I'm against them too. But everyone else was taken so I had to grab you."

It was then that Atem noticed a strange breeze rustling Valon's hair and he looked down towards a blue-green glow to find a strange circle had surrouned them. Looking back up, the Pharoah could see the same circle glowing beneath his attacker's bangs. He found it strange that everything suddenly seemed so blurry and he realized his strength was beginning to fade as well.

"That's it," the youth smiled. "Take it easy. Let it go."

Malik managed to get back up mostly unharmed, since Rishid had taken most of the impact with the wall and passed out. He looked from his friend back into the room where he saw Atem and Valon standing within a strange glow, the Pharoah obviously losing strength. With only a second's hesitation, Malik sat up.

"Guardians of the Forgotten Gate, I call upon thee to break the will of the oppressor before me!" A blast of white energy shot from Malik's hands and he was thrown back against the wall again from the recoil.

Valon felt the ground shake and looked at the place Malik's attack had hit, his slate-blue eyes widening when he saw cracks on the barrier. "The fuck--!"

It took a moment for Malik to reorient himself, and although he was disappointed to find Valon still standing, he quickly noticed the cracks. Taking Rishid's sword from its scabbard, he ran back into the room and began beating against the barrier of light. His bones shook with each blow he landed and his nerves burned, but he didn't stop, even when his sword began to crack.

"Pharoah! Lord Atem!" He called. "Don't give up! Fight!"

Atem's hand twitched as he was pulled back from sleep a slight ways. Despite his failing vision, he could see Malik clearly; it was as if he was glowing, and he appeared different somehow. He quickly diverted his attention from the young man and grabbed Valon's shielded left arm; before the attacker could get over his second shock of the night, he felt the metal he had shaped from Malik's sword shatter.

The shards of metal bounced around the inside of the barrier and increased the cracks; as much as a gain this was, Atem found himself exhausted of energy and he fell into darkness.

Valon dropped the Pharoah and clutched his injured arm. But taking a quick glance at the jewel embedded in his right glove and seeing the faint gold glow within it, he smirked and lowered the barrier. He just barely missed a strike from Malik, and ran past him, retreiving his swords from the place he had dropped them; he quickly liquified the two blades, forming gauntlets and punched his way through the wall of the room.

Malik started to chase after him, but stopped to check on his Pharoah. He was breathing and otherwise unharmed, but Malik could sense something was not right; using a small spell, he was horrified to realize that, while Atem was alive, the shell of his body was empty. His soul was gone.

A groan snagged Malik's attention and he found Rishid hobbling into the room. "Master Malik...!"

"Rishid! Tend to Atem!" Malik said as he dashed after Valon.

"Malik--" Rishid watched as his charge since youth dashed out of the hole the intruder had made. He would have given chase as well, but knelt beside his fallen King and kept watch over him until Isis and the other Priests arrived.

- - -

Valon finally broke through to the outside and jumped down the the sandy ground. Shaping his guantlets back into swords, he sheathed them and pulled a whistle from his pocket. Blowing it, he waited just a moment before he saw a great eagle swoop down from behind the clouds and land a couple yards from him.

"Hey, buddy!" He pat the bird's beak before hopping onto its back. "Alrighty! Let's go!" The eagle spread its wings and started off.

"STOP!"

Valon just barely acknowledged the voice before felt Malik's arms around his neck, choking him. The desertborn youth grabbed his right arm, seeing the jewel embedded in the palm of his glove and went for it. He managed to rip it from its place, but Valon quickly fought back for it.

The two struggled for possession of the stone, making the great bird they rode on very upset and it began to shake the fray from its back. The combined force of the eagle shook the stone from both youths' grasp and they watched in horror as the object containing the Pharoah's soul plumetted down to the desert below.

The blue-green stone connected with the gound just beside the riverbank and shattered.

A flash of green and gold light exploded and sent a wave of air up; the shape of a gold bird shot past the bird and the two youths on its back. First the two were blinded, but then they were thrown from the eagle's back due to the force of the departing light. It was only then that Malik realized just how high up the great bird had flown since he had jumped on and he for the first time feared the force he had defied on his horse for so long as the wind whipped through his hair and clothes.

Valon also struggled as he fell, but couldn't find his winged mount as he spun around. However, any thoughts of death quickly fled before they could even take root when he saw a familiar blur of sunshine-blond hair and a pair of pure white wings. He reached out and grabbed Rafael's hand, immediately halting in his descent.

"Took you long enough!" The spiky-haired youth breathed with a weak smile directed up at his friend and comrade.

"I did offer to go with you," Rafael said calmly as he flew back towards the riderless eagle. "If you had waited, you probably wouldn't be in this situation right now."

"Shut it." Valon looked off in the direction the bird of gold light had shot off in forlornly. "I'm screwed aren't I?" He asked his winged friend.

Rafael placed him back onto the back of his eagle. "Possibly."

Malik meanwhile continued to fall. His amethyst eyes were so wide it was painful at the sight of the winged man as he and Valon flew away. This was all too much, too fast. Soul Theives, winged men, and that bird of gold light.

Where was Atem?

The gold bird filled his thoughts once more before he hit the water.

- - -

- - -

So, was that different enough?

I'm sure you have a couple questions now. Like, "Where did Atem go?" and, "Is Malik dead?"

Well, you'll find out soon enough, but for now a little note or two.

First off, Valon's metal shaping thingie. In the anime, his main card is that battle suit which he would occaisionally use one or two parts from. I tried to find a way to include that like I did with Mai's Harpies and Pegasus' Doppelganger, so I figured, "Make him like Musica from 'Rave Master' and let him shape metal however he likes!" So I did.

Next, Rafael wings. I'm actually not going to go into too much detail on that because it's a plot point, but I'll just say I loved all those shots when he had wings in the anime and wanted to include that. Iatos will also be included in time. Ganbare!

Well, 'til next time, min'na-san!