Black-Dranzer-1119: Good luck with your story, and thank you for the enthusiasm! I'm glad you like it!
Fallon Dream: Hahah, not rude at all! I think it is good that it is a little different, it should be, ne:) I'm glad you like it. Yes, one of my favorite parts of the movie is when Maurice forces Phillipe to go in a direction the horse doesn't want to travel, and when it turns out to be the wron g path he says: "Where are we? Where have you taken us, Phillipe!" Hahaha, Thanks for the review!
Linnea Chiu-san: OOH, you'll find out about where Kaiba is soon enough. He is plotting! Muahahahah! Uhem...Anyhow, thank you for the review and I'm glad you love it!
Lorna Shadows: I tried to express thier love for eachother deeply so that one can understand how easy it will be for Ryou to take his father's place and how Maurice reacts to Ryou's bold decision. Glad you like it!
TheGodFish: Hehehe, thank you! I didn't like that chapter for some reason, it seemed...choppy. But I'm so glad you liked it! Yes, that little window of Ryou's dream will be used in reference later...Thank you for reviewing! Everyone seems so excited about it, it is infectious! I can't stop typing! Oh, and I read 'Cry For Me', It was beautiful!
I'mNotBakuraISwearWhatDoYouM...: GR! U are so critical! (sniff) yes, I agree with you though! AND I DID WRITE YOU! I promises, see? I good. I very good. I obey. (gr) Loves 2 u!
Yeeeessss, you want to read the fiiiiccc, I know you do...gooooood mind slave...NOW READ IT! MUAHAHAHA! (as Marik would say)!
Now, really, please read and I hope you like it: )
It was a castle. The gigantic structure loomed ahead of him, highlighted by lightning flashing somewhere above. He followed the amazing spires with his eyes as they ascended into the clouds, but they rose high out of sight.
Maurice turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings with awe. Every angle was surrounded by a mammoth stone wall, topped with deadly looking six-sided spikes; but there appeared to be no use for them, because what could ever climb a wall like that? The forest bordered the front, back, and right side, but he could see nothing but skyline and distant mountains past the far left section. Here, a beautiful stone statue of an angel leaned out over the wall, raising her cold gray arms to the stormy heavens; she must have been several hundred times larger than himself. Her wings extended up and curved gracefully in back twards the castle. The tips of those wings became the pillars for a stone balcony which overlooked the left wall and what lie below; it seemed as though the statue was the support beam of nearly half the castle.
Thick rose bushes climbed their way across nearly every expanse of stone but the castle itself, on which only the pillars were infested with the black, thorn-like vines. Two marble collums were poised at the entrance, just in front of two equally enormous wooden doors.
The man made up his mind quickly, struggling up the path to the doors through the rain. He didn't expect to be able to open them himself, but perhaps someone was inside and would let him in when they heard him knocking. It took some time to reach the doors; the path was almost so long that riding horseback would be more practical than approaching on foot.
Shivering, Maurice hobbled up the too-steep steps, halting in front of the doors...a chill had wound it's spidery little way up his spine, resting coldly on the back of his neck, causing fine hairs there to rise.
He put a trembling hand to the golden knocker and gasped as a momentary pulse of revulsion fluttered through him. He groaned unconciously, pulling his hand back and clutching it as though it were burned. Maurice blinked. The feeling had passed.
You crazy old man! You're just spooked, it's a lump of stone; nothing more than a roof to sleep under.
Swallowing and not quite convinced, Maurice grabbed the knocker and pushed hard. This time, when his hand touched the wood, it slowly shivered open without so much as a squeak. He cried out in surprise and pulled his hand away but the huge panel of wood continued to swing open.
This didn't strike Maurice as being too odd. The curious, scientific portion of his mind came alive and he dashed inside, intent on the devise (if there was one) that was automaticaly opening the door. It was, of course, the only explaination for the door's behavior...ordinary doors did not open on thier own. But there was nothing but dry wood on the inside; no metal cogs, no levers attached to the little gold ring on the other side.
"Well, that can't be right!" He leaned closer, thinking maybe the darkness was hiding something from him. He frowned for several moments, and moved between the doors, outside again, inside, touched the door ring...nothing happened. "How strange!" His attention was diverted suddenly by a series of noises.
"...no! shut up!..."
"...what is your problem..."
"...shhhhhh!...you..."...smack!...
"...ouch!"...
"...shut u-"
Maurice straightened up, clutching the folds of his cloak tighter. "W-who's there!"
"...look what you've done!..."
"...maybe he'll go away...calm..."
Maurice tried again, walking in the direction of the little voices. "Hello? Hello?...Who's there?" This time only silence greeted him. He walked farther into the grand hall, not bothering to notice the decorations in his search for the voices. It occured to him that maybe the owners of those voices thought him dangerous, or unfriendly. Clearing his throat, he tried a more congenial approach. "Hello...I'm sorry if I'm disturbing anyone, but...I was in the forest and I lost my way; it's cold outside and I don't know how to get home, please have mercy, let me stay here one night...I promise I wouldn't be a burden..." He waited patiently for a response, hope building in his chest.
"...we should help..."
"...no! the master..."
"...If we don't help, he won't go away..."
"...and if the master finds him..."
"...oh, bite me and the master..."
"...watch your mouth!..."
"...fine, but remember what I said..."
There was a pause, and then a clatter of strange noises met his ears, growing louder as they approached. Maurice inadvertently backed up a little in his attempt to seem polite (and maybe a little fear, he thought). Out of the darkness came a large, ginger-gold cat, a crystal wine bottle, and a beautiful golden goblet laced with jewels. The cat was quite usual, and only a mild surprise, much less than the other two. With the bottle and goblet, however, Maurice's jaw dropped and he froze for a moment, doubting this reality. The bottle was moving freely on it's own, as though it were alive, not just leaping along on a string or mechanical wires. It was actually hopping twards him, propelled by nothing other than it's own desire to move. Something else quickly dawned on the old man. It was bending. Actually bending and flexing with joints. Eagerness flooded him and he rushed foreward to pick up the glittering bottle, wanting to examine it as he had done with the door. Plucking it up from the floor, Maurice held it up in the air, surprised to see liquid swirling inside.
"Oof! Unhand me you pompous fool!" It bellowed at him.
"OH MY! Oh, dear, I'm sorry-" Maurice had dropped the item to the floor as it requested, wincing as it hit with a loud, resounding ring. Bouncing back up as though nothing had happened, the bottle 'humphed' and straightened up to it's full height. "Oh, dear, I'm terribly sorry," he apologized again. He bent down on all fours (a process which was difficult due to his cold, age worn joints) and evaluated the crystal decanter. After a brief moment, he said, "I don't think you chiped an edge or anything, you look alright to me-"
"Back off, or I might chip your edge-"
"Marik!" The goblet hissed, "be nice!" After a moment of violent glaring, said bottle growled and inched it's way twards the cat who had held it's silence through the ordeal.
I wonder if the cat can talk? He thought, truly intrigued now. "Hello, there," he said to it, gently extending a hand to the soft creature. It didn't do so much as twitch, but he suddenly felt compelled to keep his distance from it all the same...there was something about that little animal that wasn't quite right, a haunting kind of intellegence behind it's lilac eyes. Quickly retreating his extended hand, Maurice settled up on his knees and adressed the goblet, who seemed to be the kindest of the three.
"Thank you for coming to my aid," he began timidly, "I have no place to stay for the night, and I don't know my way around these woods. My horse and I were attacked by wolves, and I stumbled upon this place by chance. I would be eternally grateful if you could help me...If it was burdensome for me to stay here, then please direct me to where I might go. I would understand." He gazed hopefully at what he expected were the goblet's eyes.
"The door is that way," the decanter hissed, much to the irritation of the goblet. After silencing the rebellious bottle with another glare, it spoke.
"Of course, you may stay the night here, elder. There are, however, some restrictions that you will have to abide. You must stay in the room we provide, and if you leave that room, it can only be to leave the castle. We can allow you to stay safely untill daybreak, but after that, you're on your own." The tone of the goblet was solemn and smooth, not the least bit threatening. "I hope you understand."
"Yes, yes, thank you so much for your kindness. I wish there was something I could do in return for you, but I'm afraid I have nothing of value to give."
The goblet smiled it's odd, metallic smile. "But of course, gentleman, you owe us nothing."
The strange company of four walked away into the darkness of the castle, and to Maurice it didn't seem nearly so foreboding as before. He studied what little decor he could through the dim light, picking out fantasticaly oversized stairwells, statues and balconies as they went. It was a dark and hollow place with air that seemed clotted with dust. If nothing else Maurice could deduce about this castle, he could tell it was old.
"May I ask you a question?" he adressed the goblet.
The item paused thoughtfuly, tilting it's deep, round dish. This reminded the old man of someone rubbing thier chin, and he smiled as he imagined this.
"Yes, I suppose you may...although, I may not be inclined to answer." To this Maurice smiled and nodded.
"How...did you come to be?" he asked, "Is it a spell, perhaps, or-"
"That, I'm afraid, I cannot answer you," the goblet said in it's somber voice, "but I will tell you that almost every object here has a human soul, and a mind of it's own. You'll want to keep that in mind during your stay as well," the goblet finished, casting a furtive glance over to the bottle. Maurice smiled knowingly.
Sooner than the man predicted, the group arrived at the room where he was to stay. It was still in the entrance hall he observed, despite thier having walked for quite some time. The goblet motioned for him to come inside and rest on the rug, explaining that there were no chairs or beds for him to occupy, but Maurice accepted graciously anyhow. He laid beside the warm fire and settled down to sleep, closing his eyess.
What will Ryou think of all this? He will be most excited, perhaps I can bring him back a rose to prove it was real. The silence settled in, and he heard the goblet leap up onto the mantle along with his other company. The cat, however, curled up opposite Maurice to take advantage of the warmth as well. Before he slipped into a bissfull rest, he noted how odd it was about that cat...it's eyes...why were they so strange?
Ah, yes, that's it, he thought groggily. They never blink.
Ryou gasped and shot up in bed, hands clutching to his chest in a desperate motion. His eyes, wide and frantic, seemed glazed for a few seconds as the calm, cold reality of night sunk into his fevered skin. It took several moments for his breathing to become regular again. He closed his eyes and slumped back against the minimal headboard, sweeping a damp curtain of hair from his eyes with a shaking hand.
"That was strange," he mused. The teen had never had such a dream before. Ususally he never drempt, and when he did they were pointless little drabels about housework or keeping the store clean. He hadn't ever even imagined that sort of thing outside of a fairy tale.
Chalking it up to stress of his father leaving, Ryou climbed out of bed and stretched lazily, shivering as his muscles pulled themselves taut. Knowing he would not be able to sleep after that, the child wrapped a warm cloak around his thin frame and headed downstairs.
Grabbing a day-old cinnamon bun, he hurried outside and curled up on the porch. After years of hard, late work, he rarely had time to look at the stars and so savored the opportunity. With a bright smile he etched out the constellations and all thier heros in his mind. When he was younger, he remembered, father would take him outside on nights like this to look at the heavens.
It had been raining heavily just after his father left, but now the sky was a beautifully clear velvet blue, and Ryou liked that just fine. He leaned his head back against the house, smelling the fresh air and ignoring the bite of the winter wind. It took some time for him to pick up on the soft noise hovering in the distance. It was first dismissed as the beating of his own heart, but it grew louder and other noises began to accompany the dull, pulsating sound.
The whisper of ragged breath, the rhythmic slap of hooves against soft ground, the tremble of a feral heart...His head whipped up and he looked dead ahead at the large figure approaching him. It was Phillipe.
Ryou froze for a split second, not aware if he was truly seeing the horse or if it was a dream. Deciding quickly on the former, Ryou scrambled to his feet and ran foreward, mindless of the muddy ground beneath him.
"Phillipe! Phillie, no, where's Papa?" He opened his arms and the terrified animal flew into them, bucking his head into Ryou's shoulder. Grabbing the torn reins, Ryou pulled Phillipe against him and hugged the huge head, stroking it and whispering words of comfort. The creature tried to rear but Ryou refused him this, and clung to the reins tightly. Letting Phillipe buck would be letting him get out of controll again, and a frenzied horse was dangerous.
After many moments of sweet, endless affection, the hold of fear broke and Phillipe calmed. Ryou gently released him and looked the timid animal over for injuries. There were a few deep scratches which could be explained away by the rough undergrowth, but nothing truly alarming that he could see. Attached to his flank were still the two spokes from the wagon, both ragged as if torn. Ryou pet the soft mane of fur again and asked once more "Where's Papa, Phillie? Did you get lost?"
They did not own another horse and Ryou certainly didn't have enough money to rent a late-night carriage, which limited his options severely. He could wait untill morning and travel on foot to find his father, or he could re-saddle Phillipe right now and take him out instead.
Ryou bit his lip. He didn't want to hurt his horse by over-taxing it's body, but Maurice could be lying in the deserted woods, dying of injury or cold...Loking up at the big, noble horse, he swallowed his guilt and led him into the stables to be cleaned, watered and ridden once more.
Maurice had dozed for some time on that warm, fire lit rug, and had truly begun to sleep when a rush of sound brought him to again. The door they had come through seemingly exploded, he could hear bits of it clattering to the floor and the hinges screamed with the weight. His comfortable fire winked out as simply and completely as a candle, plunging the room into darkness.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" A powerful, vicious voice roared.
Maurice shook in terror, unaware that he had leapt to his feet and was now huddled against the wall. The hulking black shadow was illuminated by the shattered doorframe, a heavy, silvery light settling on it's shoulders. He had no preparation as the creature pounced at him, crossing the room in what seemed a single bound and smashing him to the stone wall. Maurice cried out in fear and pain. "I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, HUMAN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY CASTLE!" Maurice opened his mouth to reply, wanting to sate that anger with a reasonable answer but found that he could not speak. He willed himself to, he desperately wished to comply, but his vocal cords wouldn't so much as quiver.
With a furious roar, the Beast threw him bodily from the room. Maurice landed on the stone ground with a thud and he continued to slide, his momentum broken only by the bottom step of a spiral staircase. Groaning, he raised his head and peered with wavering vision at the deadly, stalking approach of his attacker.
"Please, please no! I only needed a place to stay for the night-" He was surprised at his own voice. It was weak and trembling, hardly understandable. The creature gave a snarl of rage and leapt at him again, landing nearly on top of him and grabbing him by the neck. It's powerful muscles rippled with sheer brute force as he lifted the old man high above his head, the violent roars never ceasing.
"PATHETIC OLD MAN! YOU'VE COME TO STARE AT THE BEAST, HAVE YOU!" He bellowed at his prey, revealing fangs in a show of menace. It's voice lowered to a sandy, poisonous whisper. "Take a good look, old man, becuase I'm the last being you'll ever see."
Maurice's screams could be heard through the corridors and countless rooms, echoing off high vaulted ceilings. The Beast's murderous laugh of triumph shook the stone to it's foundation, all but drowning out the terrified shouts of he man. It threw Maurice over his shoulder, bounding up the stairs in monstrous leaps.
Reaching the top of a dungeon tower, Beast tore open the rusty grate of a bottom-row cell and tossed the injured man inside, laughing at his cries.
"No! Please, don't do this to me! Wait! Come back!" His frail, quavering voice pleaded.
With a resonating snarl, the Beast spared the human a single glance over his shoulder. "Die," he hissed. The door slammed shut, reeling the rest of the castle into it's former thick silence, no trace of the man left behind.
Ryou and Phillipe crashed through the underbrush at the outskirts of the forest. They were quickly submerged beneath the trees, following an invisible path. The boy rode without a saddle or bit; a terrible feeling had overcome him at the stable and he couldn't delay his search for his father a moment more. They panted in unison, fear flowing as one. Phillipe did not want to go on, he was hesitating and balking at the trees but Ryou relentlessly kicked at his sides. The horse was afraid to keep going, Ryou was afraid to stop.
Papa, where are you? A tear trailed down his cheek unnoticed.
Ok! another chappie up! I hope you all like it, It is a little shorter than usual but I'm working on being consistant. Does everyone think the Beast's roaring episode was convincing? Or was it kind of...not realistic? Oh, and the Beast won't be called Beast the whole way through, pretty soon Ryou is told his name and refers to him as Bakura, much to his annoyance! Yay!
Please Review! It inspires me to writeso much, I appreciate each one!
