three and a half months later...I actually had no idea if I was going to do this chapter or not despite it being one of my favorite duels, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to include the scene where Bakura goes to the museum in this chapter or the next one...
But on the drive home from work two days back I had an epiphany...
And figured out how to connect the only two owners of the Ring...
and i am VERY proud of how it came out!
Summery: In the early days of its history the Millennium Ring recognized only two Masters...
One a Mage. One a Thief. Two souls who hated each other but bound by a single ancient promise...
Promise Kept
The Dark Magician that materialized out of the computer screen was not the faithful purple-clad companion who was Yami and Yugi's favorite card: if the blood red armor and shock of white hair were not distinction enough, it sported an ugly, arrogant snarl that their loyal friend would never wear. It spoke imperially of itself and its Master, unhumbly named Pandora the Conjurer of their fated duel, a fight for the title of Master Magician.
Yami smirked, unimpressed. "Stop this petty trick and come out…Rare Hunter."
The man appeared from the shadows with all the flamboyant flare of a Ringmaster and the costume of some haunted carnival jester: his face shrouded by a mask.
Yami only grinned, shuffled his deck and without doubt or hesitation drew his most loyal card—the card that had chosen him.
Without being summoned, the faithful Dark Magician appeared at his master and friend's side—a specter without need of illusions or holograms.
"I will fight you," Yami declared boldly, the fire of battle blazing hotly in his red eyes while his magical companion looked on, bright blue eyes like two glittering stars sparkling proudly. "Magician vs. Magician."
The room Pandora insisted they Duel was like a Gothic Circus or something out of a nightmare: occult tools, magician prompts, faceless marionettes hanging from the wall like bluebeard's wives, and a magician's circle and star in the heart of the table. Yami kept his guard as the Conjurer walked around the table. Watched, distastefully as Pandora shotgun shuffled his cards. They placed the shuffled decks on the table, prepared their duel disks. The conjurer had not stopped smirking.
Too late Yami saw the chain.
"A Nightmare show!" Pandora cackled, mad with victorious laughter. "With you as the star!"
Yami barely had time to react when the ground split open and something cold and metallic snapped around his ankles, pinning the fabric of jeans and boots to his skin. Staring down in surprise he noticed the thick manacles pinning him in place—the same around Pandora's—each with a small opening in the shape of a key.
Before he could ponder what that meant, a menacing humming sound whirred sickeningly to life with the promise to slice and devour whatever it touched. Yami shot to the sound and his stomach sank. "It can't be!"
"That's right! A 100-tooth carbide tipped blade, just like they used to saw women in half!" Pandora bragged, sounding just as insane as this situation was.
It did not take Yami long to notice the numbers next to the saw, to figure out exactly what would happen when the number hit zero—a Nightmare Game. That's what this was: a roulette to decide who wins and who died: the winner received the key and their freedom, the loser was left to bleed to death.
"Pandora!" Yami snapped, furious. This body may not have been his, but he would be damned to the darkness he feared if he allowed Yugi's body to be hurt for such a stupid reason. "You're insane !"
The maniacal laughter in response merely confirmed Yami's accusation.
"In Greek Mythology," Pandora explained, gesturing to the box-like room with its occult symbols, horror movie contraptions, illusionist tricks and horror movie memorabilia. "Pandora's Box was created by the Gods to contain all the misfortune in the world. But when a woman named Pandora opened it, all the Evil escaped bringing suffering and pain. But one thing remained in the box…Hope." The mad Magician pointed to the Box between his manacled ankles, identical to the one Yami saw beneath him—confirmed his suspicions. The only way to escape was for someone to die .
And that made Yami furious .
"Is this fun to you…" he demanded through clenched teeth, nails digging into the flesh of his fisted palms. The tone, so low, so dangerous that the mad jester stopped laughing.
Shaking with fury Yami shot up, red eyes blazed and glaring. "A battle that kills people." His voice was dangerously calm, his mouth tight. "I'm asking you, is it fun ?"
Pandora met his fury with a smile full of flamboyant arrogance. "Why yes," he said, theatrically. "Because I'm the one who will win."
"You filthy scum…" Rage rolled off him, in furious, flaming waves. Resolve firing his blood and igniting his determination, Yami met the man's smirk with a dark declaration of his own. "Then I'll take you to the very edge of your life!"
With those words: a promise and a damnation, Yami began their duel. He took the first turn, studied the smug, expectant look on Pandora's face. Smirked when it dissolved into horrified shock when his spell card destroyed his first hands, confirming the spirit's suspicions. Felt a giddy sense of pride when his second magic card took control of Pandora's only monster. Savored the absolute horror on the ghoul's face as he sacrificed them forth and summoned forth his Dark Magician.
Felt a humble sense of pride and loyalty as the faithful mage appeared in a spiral swirl of purple and violet light as if conjuring himself from the shadows, his long scepter extended not to attack, but to defend. Watched with an all too familiar sense of affection as the sorcerer leapt into position and delivered its killing blow and Pandora screamed.
When the Magician levitated back down, he took his position at his friend's side, and Yami saw the way the monster look at him: the warmth and the pride glowing in those star blue eyes, the brightness of that smile, and affection Yami knew was no hologram or illusion. No, this card, this Dark Magician, though there may be hundreds of others in the world, was his. Chose him. Was his friend. Even if Yami could not fully remember him, the feeling was there, the same warmth and affection and friendship he felt for Yugi and Jonouchi and Honda and Anzu and Otogi and Ryou was there and yet it was somehow older, deeper, stronger…
It warmed the spirit's phantom Heart.
And nothing and no one, especially not this heartless, careless, card-cutting creep Pandora was going to take his oldest and dearest friend away from him.
Said Man screamed as the saw slid closer to him like the mouth of a monster inching ever closer to take a bite out of his flesh.
Yami felt no pity for him.
"Are you surprised, Pandora!" Yami shouted, letting all his rage and disgust bleed into his voice. "You shaved your cards and tried to cheat me!" he spat that word with all the vileness of the act itself. "I'll teach you how your cards feel when you cut them up !"
The saw stopped and Pandora stopped screaming, and for a moment he did not look like the insane Conjurer—he looked like a weak-willed and terrified man.
Yami could not stop the pity that arose in his heart.
In the end, it seemed, his inner goodness was too strong and his anger reluctantly receded. "If you wish to surrender," he offered, voice calm and earnest. "Now is the time."
Pandora only laughed: a malicious maniacal cackle seemingly invigorated by the passion and fission the taste of death had awoken inside of him.
Yami only sighed, disappointed—then felt the Dark Magician's phantom hand on his shoulder.
You tried . Those warm eyes seemed to whisper. That is more than enough .
Yami nodded and returned his focus to the duel.
Beside him, the faithful Dark Magician glared at the creature snickering before him. Glared right through him as if to see into the eyes of the puppeteer who commanded his strings, vowing I will protect you, Master. I will not fail my ancient promise.
X
Ishizu stared at the stone tablet that bore the predicted future even she could not yet see. "The wheels of fate are in motion," she said to no one, the words barely a whisper as she fiddled with her necklace, hoping, paying for some kind of clue.
It would not be long now, she knew. Soon, he brother would face off against the Pharaoh and when that happened…her hands shook, long fingers flexed and spread in anxious frustration.
He can still be saved. There is still goodness in him.
The words were not a chant or a prayer but a truth.
But…to be saved…he must fail… And she knew her brother would rather die than fail in his quest for vengeance and freedom. Even if he were willing to compromise his vengeance on the honor of their ancestors' perpetual suffering, he would never submit his freedom. He would never go back to the tomes, to the darkness and accept his "duty"…
Duty… the word was a venom on her tongue and she wanted nothing more than to spit it. "Duty" was the word he had used to describe their servitude…a sacred duty, an honor, a privilege, one her younger brother should not only have been honored but grateful to have forced upon him.
The memory of it all made her sick with dread.
No…Marik would never surrender his freedom. Not again…not after what he did that night…and her biggest and worst regret was that she had been too young, too cowardly and, if she were being honest with herself, too desperate to please to stand up to him and stop what she knew her brother did not want, what all of them knew he did not want.
She had chosen this…the Millennium Ring was hers and she accepted the responsibility.
But Marik had not chosen this.
Marik had not wanted this.
He had only ever wanted freedom and life in the world beyond…a right denied him the moment he was born into the shadows.
Even now, Ishizu could not blame him for that…and yet if Marik failed…what would happen then.
Her fingers tightened and her heart clench and once more she found her eyes drifting towards the carved image of the Pharaoh's guardian—of the loyal armored clad mage who was the king's most loyal servant and most valiant protector. Swore she felt something stir in her heart: a prick, a spark, a hope, like her heart was a box containing all the world's misery and once opened, all those fears and doubts and insecurities were free, no longer a part of her flesh and body. No longer her blood and burden. Until only that single Hope remained.
A shudder of dread suddenly swept through her—both familiar and alien, as though someone, something was tugging at her throat…no…at her necklace.
X
All five of the rings prongs pointed towards the Domino Museum and Bakura grinned. "So the last two items have finally made their way to this city after all?" he snickered. "What luck!" The golden ring pulsed in his hands: glowing with an excited golden light white the prongs jingled and clicked. "You must continue to show me the way to this item, my ring." Bakura purred, stroking the item's ego. The shadows purred in response, eager to please.
Bakura granted its request and ascended the steps. "For soon all seven millennium items will belong to me."
He ignored the security and the exhibits: steadfastly following the Ring's instructions, its magic pulsating, growing stronger. He approached a staircase and took the steps, grin widening as the item's magic pulse louder. Yes…the energies were getting stronger now.
The item was close.
Very close.
The room he descended into was off Exhibit: loaded with artifacts and stone tablets, pilfered from tombs and temples of the ancient deserts. Bakura could have laughed at the irony. He'd spent his entire life robbing tombs and he was called a Thief and a Heathen. These modern bastards, desecrated ancient remains, burglarized kings and paupers alike of their furniture and riches, even tore apart their eternal resting places and to further spit on their ancestors and the cultures of old, displayed them for all the world to gawk at like the corpses of animals and butterflies on display—and they were called "archeologists'', "researchers", "respected scientists in the study of ancient cultures."
That time Bakura did laugh at the irony and then snorted in utter disgust.
He wondered what the princling would think if he saw all this…if he understood what it meant…what an insult it was.
It would probably break his heart.
The ring pulsed with such vigor that Bakura remembered at once why he was here—and then it dropped, limb and spent.
"What's this?" he demanded but the Ring had no answer. That meant only one thing. "The force has disappeared. Damn!"
He was about to leave when something caught his eye—and he gasped.
Though time and age had left its mark upon the stones, fading the once passionate colors to dull muddy browns and the precise lines of the carvings had worn and dulled, the images inscribed within that tablet blared to life with such vigor that Bakura could not ignore them.
He took long, tentative steps towards the stones: recognized the two great beasts fighting on either side, recognized who they fought for, studied the trinity of carvings above them and how they surrounded the all too familiar image of the millennium puzzle.
"It's been a while since I've seen these stone carvings…" his smirk curled, showing teeth. He scrutinized the images, recognized familiar figures and faces, and yet he could not recall this particular part of any past or prophecy. "Interesting…" he cackled his eyes fixated on the three Gods whose name he knew all too well. "Something about the ancient past that even I do not know about…or is this a prophecy of what is to come…"
He snorted, but could not hide his smile.
Beneath him his shadow curled, long and serpentine, for She two recognized the Three.
"I suppose you God couldn't make it, too easy for me, after all," he laughed. "What fun would that be?"
X
Ishizu listened and observed the young white-haired man from the shadows, recognizing easily another ancient spirit who occupied a sacred item—but who was he? And why was he here?
This...spirit…he had some knowledge of the ancient scriptures…but not all. For she knew, all too well, he brother sought a much greater power.
But then…who was his player, in this Game of Fate the Gods had decreed? The dice had already been cast, the bones read, so was he? A new player in the roulette for the Title of King? Possibly, he spoke so casually and confidently of collecting the seven millennium items, as if the power was already his and this crucial step was but a chore.
But he knows of the God Cards? He seemed to recognize their images clearly enough?
Or was he the Joke in this game of cards? A Wild Card? Some separate third party with their own agendas that had nothing to do with Fate or Destiny and did not care what they had already decided so long as he obtained his personal gain…if that were true, then he was far more dangerous that he appeared.
Chancing a look, she saw him once more staring at the tablet, but something stopped her.
His eyes…there was something about them, in hem, that was neither arrogance nor greed, but something…softer…warmer…affection? Surely not?
She watched as he lifted a long-fingered hand, ran the calloused fingers over a specific carving, the warm emotion radiating those dark eyes bright so in the artificial light they looked almost lavender.
She gasped.
It was the Pharaoh's carving.
And then his smirk returned—crass and devilish, so quickly she could almost believe she had imagined his earlier emotion, as she heard him snicker and snort. "Wait for me, Pharaoh." He snickered. "The game has just begun."
He pulled his hand away, and turned his harsh gaze towards the priest who opposed him—the priest whom Ishizu herself had confirmed was Seto Kaiba in a past life.
With a disgruntled snort the man snapped. "Don't fuck this up, Kaiba. Don't make me regret my choice…" He tilted his head, and Ishizu caught him staring at the Priest's divine beast. "Or make her sacrifice in vain."
He cast a final glance to the Guardian of the King, his face a mixture of emotions: reluctant respect, tumulus tolerance, begrudging friendship. "Keep your promise, Priest." It sounded more desperate than demanding, not a command but a plea—the plea of one willing to sacrifice life and pride for what he most desired. She watched as he squeezed the Millennium Ring tighter, then turned on his heels and left.
She collapsed in relief, then rose once more, resolved.
She knew what she had to do.
She was done waiting for Fate's permission to act.
X
Yami watched helplessly as chains suddenly ensnared his beloved Magician's arms, legs and torso dragging him backwards and crucifying him to an iron grid. Yami's shocked eyes locked with the concerned ones of his friend, pinned helplessly, his jaw right with worried rage.
Pandora cackled at his struggles. "Now your Dark Magician can only watch as his owner is tortured to death !" With that vicious declaration, the Red Magician attacked. Shockwave after shockwave of awful electricity energy ripped and tore at Yami's body all the while that monstrous saw lunged ever closer.
Yami could only scream.
And the Dark Magician could only watch.
And then Padora played that card. That horrible, awful spell that would vipass all of the Pharaoh's defences and strike his Master at his heart.
Ectoplasm-the Card that robbed a monster of its very soul and turned it into a weapon.
Both watched in horror as the poor doll's lifeforce was sucked unwillingly from its puppet-like body, its energy floating helplessly, almost reluctantly, in the air as Pandora laughed, cackling high and triumphant with the assurance of his victory. Laughed off the murder of his monsters, his slaves-that was the awful, ugly word that he used, and worse was that he meant it.
Yami studied the Red Magician's face, the look of shock, horror and then the terrible realization that gave way to what this truly was: a heartbreaking betrayal. Watched as the Doll's soul sank with the pitiful realization of one resigned to die.
"But if that's what it takes to win," Pandora snickered, without doubt or hesitation or pity or guilt. "Then it's a small price to pay."
With that, the doll's weaponized soul struck Yami through his heart and his knees buckled under the force of it: not the attack but the crippling, crushing weight of the Doll's anguish. Shock. Sadness. Horror. Pain. Grief. Betrayal. Each one was a knife that ripped at the young king' heart. The wails of the Doll's grief echoed louder than the humming of that terrible saw looming closer ever could. It stopped just at the 700 mark. Its teeth barely licking the hem of Yami's jeans.
All the while the Dark Magician watched. Eyes bright and wide with horror-and defiance.
Pandora roared with laughter as he prepared to sacrifice his Dark Magician next but not before scolding the King for his kindness, for his lack of ruthlessness...scolding him for "coddling" his slaves and earning their truth. Betrayal contorted the Red Magician's face.
"Of course," Pandora added. "Ectoplasm works on both sides of the field." he reminded and let the implication lie with that
Yami's glare burned, furious with disgust. The anger was a fire around him, and he growled, a lioness determined and willing to lay down her life to protect her pride and insulted that such a vile, loathsome being would even suggest he do something so despicable.
The Dark Magician's own heart sank. And his spirit roared.
Triumphantly, Pandora laughed "Now Dark Magician give your life so that I can win! Your master demands it!"
If Pandora saw the broken look on the Red Magician's face, he did not notice or did not care, but Yami did both. "Pandora…" Yami groaned, his voice rough with unshed tears. "Can you not hear your servant crying…"
Because he could hear every tear.
"Shut up!" Pandora snapped! "Now die!"
Yami closed his eyes as the white energy shot towards him ready to piece his heart in more ways than one and whispered a silent apology to Yugi who screamed defiantly inside his heart. It's over .
NO!
Yami's eyes shot open and he gasped just as a bright lavender and pale blue light above him illuminated his beloved friend. The Dark Magician's body spasmed, then suddenly went limp and lifeless upon his cross. His soul spiraling free of its body and spot with determined speed towards the red, damned soul of his counterpart, aimed straight for Yami. Yami gasped in horror and humility as the Dark Magician appeared before him, arms spread protectively, and intercepted the attack. In a blast of light the two magicians disappeared, and the Pharaoh was unharmed.
Pandora screamed, paralyzed by shock. "That's...that's..impossible."
Dark Magician ….Yami's eyes stung with unshed tears. You killed yourself to save me .
Don't give up, my Friend.
Yami shot up, the voice so familiar and so warm...he recognized its echo from the graveyard. His heart clenched. His hands clenched, His fingers spread then curled in resolution. "Pandora!" He denounced, declared. "You cannot win with Ruthlessness, but don't worry. I will be ruthless to you ."
X
The Dark Magic Curtain pulled away revealing the Dark Magician's Apprentice. The golden haired Dark Magician girl erupted from her card in an explosion of pink hearts and smirked a bubbly smirk and a saucy wink. She boldly faced the Red Magician, vanquished her foe to Pandora's bewildered panic.
Yami grinned as she attacked.
Behind her, the Dark Magician smirked, proudly at his beloved apprentice-and at the boy he'd adored so much in life. Dark Magician girl attacked Pandora directly, seizing victory for their King,
And in that moment, the Dark Magician remembered his name.
Looked through Pandora, beyond the slimy man, beyond Marik and into the eyes of the Puppeteer. I know who you are . His spectral glare silently snapped with the force of a thousand death promises. I know what you are. And I will never allow you to have my Prince!
X
Somewhere across the city, the Millennium Ring pulsed, warningly around Bakura's neck.
And this is my holiday gift to everyone!
I cannot believe how hard it was to find the scene where Bakura goes to the museum in Japanese subtitles...but it worked!
Also little not: in the volume 12 manga where the Dark Magician and Dark Magician appear, the Dark Magician appears with blond hair, pale blue skin and very bright blue eyes...(in the anime he has purple hair) which connects him to the Dark Magician Girl...For this reason i made him blond in this chapter (and in the earlier chapter but i'll let all of you figure out which one)
Next chapter we will get Marik's POV during the whole duel and...let's just say he puts a few things together and isn't exactly happy that Pandora put his beloved's "body" in danger.
