A/N: Ah, so here we are, still in ancient Egypt... Huzzah! Yami actually made an appearence last time, along with several other familiar faces. Now we're going to run around and panic... at least we will, until the oh-so-delicious Yami Bakura shows up...

Disclaimer: Whoa, deja vu... but anyways. I don't own it. If I did, Yami Bakura would have a fetish for mittens. Just like me.

Thank you to anyone who reads this fic, and please review if you do - I even updated a week early!

Chapter Four: Confluence

The three all blinked at him, then Tristan scoffed. "Get real, Yugi," he said dismissively. "Okay, this place is weird, but it isn't ancient Egypt. Wasn't Egypt taken over by the Romans or something? The Greeks? It's all Greek to me…."

" And Bakura bein' a fighter?" Joey scratched his head with a newly liberated hand. "I don' know, Yug, doesn't that sound a little off to you? I mean, say this place is ancient Egypt - and I ain't saying that it is - but if it was, Bakura wouldn't be in it. And if he was, he'd be anything except a soldier." He spread his arms expressively. "He'd sell… uh… water or somethin'."

Yugi looked hurt. "But you guys, how many kids have white hair? Hmm?"

Joey shrugged. "Albinos? I dunno."

Tea gazed at Yugi, deep in thought. She knew better than to immediately write off what he'd just said. Granted, it was ridiculous, and quite impossible, yet… she'd had her share of the impossible, hadn't she? No one would believe her if she said that some of her closest friends had inanimate objects that housed ancient spirits. Or if she told them that monsters from a card game were real, and that she had felt - touched - watched them breathe, fight, and die. And it would be regarded as a joke if she announced that she had been several times to a place where magic was real, and reality could be warped by just a twist of the mind. "Well," she finally said, "Why do you think that, Yugi?"

Joey shot a look at her. "Aw, c'mon, Tea -" he protested. If they really were in - oh good God, if they were in the past, he could kiss any hope of normality goodbye. And they'd all probably wind up getting involved with psychopaths again - that seemed to happen pretty often.

She flashed him a withering glare. "Oh, be quiet. You haven't even listened to him yet -"

"Hey!"

They turned. Tristan made a tiny, strangled sound in his diaphragm.

The person who had called to them placed one hand on the bow that hung at his hip. "You're the guy who nearly got himself eaten by that Sand Worm, right?" he said, shifting the quiver of arrows to a more comfortable place on his back. When the yellow-haired boy nodded, he went on. "That was bloody stupid of you, running out into a battle without a weapon or even a shield. What were you doing, trying to commit suicide?" He tossed his long, white hair over his shoulder - it was annoying, always got in the way. "There are easier ways of doing that, you know."

"Uh -" the boy said. The archer looked uneasily at them. The thickskulled gold-haired one was gaping openly at him - in fact, they all were, all four of them. He momentarily considered letting his mouth drop open to make fun of them, but dismissed it. Maybe he had a bloodstain on his kilt….

Oh, wait a moment, the short one looked familiar… Yes, he had distracted the Cult-members long enough so that the archer could hit them… He wondered why. Didn't the kid know how dangerous it was to get involved with the Yashamaat?

"Thanks," he said to the short boy, and flicked his hair again. Gods, how aggravating could it be? "For yelling at them, I mean," he added.

"Um - I - I mean - Bakura?"

The archer narrowed his eyes, and let his hand drift slightly closer to the arrows. "How do you know my name?" he asked cautiously, while quickly checking them over for weapons. They weren't armed, as far as he could see, but you could never tell… Syrians, maybe?

"My lord? Atem? Answer me!"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Poison -"

Bakura glanced over at the gathering of soldiers. Yami had been hurt? How badly?

Disregarding the four strangers for the moment, he shouldered his bow and elbowed his way through the mass of men. One turned to glare at him, then smirked. "Oh, 'lo Bakura. How's your brother?"

"Shut up," Bakura snapped. "You shut up about my brother, Kairos." He made a point of stepping on the older boy's foot while he passed. He made his way to the last stand of men, lined in a ring around an open patch of sand.

The priest was there, with his usual pompous adornments: the delicate golden ankhs hanging from his clothes, beads in bright colors woven into the gown, long rings dangling from his ears, ceremonial cloth wrapped about his shaved head. Only now, he was trying to wake another man, younger, who was slumped against the ground with blood spreading over the sand. The ruby color was swirled with a sickly, ashen tint. The one who was bleeding looked up, nodded at him and grimaced.

"Yami!" Bakura gasped. Then, he glared at Shadi, the priest. "What happened?!"

Shadi flinched. Bakura himself was reasonably pleasant, but if you upset him enough for his older brother to learn about it, then… well, then you had a problem. Before he could speak, Siimon spoke up. "Kafit attacked him. Even though the Cult surrendered."

"What's wrong with him?" Bakura said, now ignoring Shadi and turning to face Siimon.

"Slimy, cheating twit," someone else barked. "They're all just like Kafit, tipping their weapons with poison. Throwing fire into people's homes so we have to back off."

"Stringing victims up in the street," another person added.

"Tjat Highest," a man asked, using the respectful name for Shadi, "will the Pharaoh be all right?"

Shadi, not a weak man, hoisted the king up. Yami sucked air between his teeth as the slash scraped across the various bangles. "Yes. I hope. I am taking him back to the palace. The rest of you -"

"The rest of us go home and get some sleep!" several called.

The priest frowned. "No. You are to trace Kafit and his men's retreat back. We still don't know where they're camping -" He was cut off by loud complaints and protests. He turned to his partner, the Holy Man Mahammad, but the other man shrugged.

"They have been at this for two days straight, Shadi," Mahammad said. Yami nodded in agreement, face turning rather red from being dangled upside-down.

Shadi threw up his free arm in exasperation. "Fine. Don't follow them. Leave and let Kafit get away again. ("Amen to that!" Kairos shouted.) But I want the elites back at the palace for instruction."

The tired soldiers began walking off in different directions, mostly toward the town, some back over the battlefield to look for friends who had fallen or were missing. Many stayed behind and offered to help the priest carry the pharaoh or call for the healer.

"Bakura -" The archer turned. Four pairs of eyes - hazel, brown, blue, and purple - all gawked at him in a very discomforting way. He shifted slightly and reached again for his bow.

"Do you four want something?" he finally said. The he added, "I don't have anything of value."

"Oh!" the girl said. Her hair, the color of mahogany, fell into her face as she shook her head. "Oh no, we're not trying to take anything - but, don't we know you?"

Ah. So that was it. Bakura inconspicuously returned the bow to its proper place on his belt. "No, I don't think so… you might be thinking of my brother, though, we look a lot alike."

Amazing, Yugi thought. Bakura really did live here. He looked different, and acted different - had Malaise done that? Changed where Bakura was from? And changed his family? Bakura had been an only child in Domino….

"Your brother? Well -" Tea started, about to say she didn't think so, when she noticed Yugi. He had just realized what was going on behind Bakura.

"Hey, that's -! …Um, I mean, is that the king?" he asked, eyes growing very round as Shadi tore a strip of linen from his robe and wound it tightly around his charge's slashed waist. Bakura glanced back.

"Yes, of course."

"He's hurt?!" All four blinked at Yugi, surprised by the sudden change in his voice. It had risen several octaves and then cracked.

"Yes," Bakura said, confused. Then, in a slightly sarcastic voice, he asked, "And do you know Pharaoh Atem personally as well?"

The reaction was not what he expected. Instead of making light of the teasing question, the short boy ran after Shadi, who was supporting Yami on the way back to the palace, and shoved through the soldiers trailing after them. "Yami!" he cried, obviously upset. "Shadi, what happened? Who hurt him?"

The turbaned man blinked large, slate-colored eyes at him. "Who are you?" both the priest and the king queried suspiciously, Shadi shifting Yami to make carrying him easier. "Ouch! Dammit, Shadi…."

"Don't make fun, Shadi, I'm serious! How'd he get hurt?"

Bakura blinked back and forth between the boy and the priest. The kid acted as though he knew Shadi, and the man obviously had no idea who the boy was. What was going on?

"Y'know, Shadi… I met you a couple of times…." Yugi coaxed. "Duelist Kingdom… Battle City…."

Shadi's face twisted in bewilderment. "I have no idea what you are talking about. I'm a mage, not a mind-reader."

Yugi sighed, but still looked concernedly at Yami. "Okay then, Yami, what happened?"

Yami blinked at him in bewilderment. Who was this kid? He looked - the child looked like him, almost. "I -" he stammered. "I don't think I -"

"Venom, on Kafit's sword -" Bakura began, but Shadi turned away and began marching up to the palace again, and one of the soldiers drew his sword and pointed it warningly at Yugi.

"And why do you want to know?" he growled, the heavy chain mesh he wore clinking as he moved the sword further, causing Yugi to back away. Tea gasped, and Joey began stomping forward. "You a Syrian? You want to know so you can find a better way to kill him, that it?"

Yugi looked terrified, and angry at the same time. "I'd never hurt him, he's one of my best friends!"

The man scoffed. "Really," he said dryly, lifting the hem of Yugi's jacket with the tip of the blade. "Haven't seen you around… and the pharaoh's not known for making friends he doesn't show off." The other soldiers began to murmur in agreement and squint at Yugi.

"Yes, you're too pale to be Egyptian…."

"Never seen you before…."

"How old are you - ten years? You think the king would be friends with a child?"

The sword jabbed at Yugi's chest, causing him to sit down hard on the ground, staring up at the soldier's leering face. The sword poked swiftly at the Puzzle around his neck.

Yami twisted. "Kairos! Stop it!" he shouted back at the soldiers.

A hand closed roughly around the end of the blade. "All right, you idiots, you've had your fun, get lost." Yugi looked up at Bakura, standing over him and grasping the sword's edge. The archer's voice had changed - now it was low and rough, and he spoke sharply. He had narrowed his eyes and had arranged his uninhibited hand in a fist, glaring at the men.

The soldiers paused for a moment, studying him, then finally one said cautiously, "Which one are you?"

"Ryou, dimwit. Go away and bother someone else."

The man squinted. "I dunno -"

"Would you like to try to see if you can tell from how hard I can hit?" Bakura let go of the sword and cracked the fingers of his other hand, loudly, glowering at them with a sneer on his face. "Would that suit you, morons?"

The soldiers shifted for a few seconds, then turned and followed Shadi and Jhetu up the path, glancing over their shoulders at Bakura. "I don't think it's Ryou," one muttered.

"Do you really want to find out?" a companion asked him.

"Definitely not…."

Bakura watched them leave, then relaxed. "It's all right," he said carelessly, turning around and grasping the front of Yugi's jacket, lifting him off the ground. "They're idiots, but they won't really hurt anyone. But Kairos," he paused, "you need to watch out for."

"…So, who's Ryou?" Tristan finally asked.

Bakura fiddled awkwardly with the string of his bow, as though it were of extreme importance. "My brother," he said at length. "They're all stupid," he added fiercely. "And just because they think they're better than him, they think they can -" He visibly restrained himself. "I'm sorry, but I still don't know who you are."

"I'm Yugi, this is Tea, Tristan and Joey," Yugi said, pointing accordingly. He glanced once again at the receding figure of the priest, so carefully bearing another's person, as though he might break. Yami was still turned, staring at him in perplexity, limping unevenly beside the priest.

"I -"

Bakura glanced upward. "Do you four have someplace to go for the night?"

"What? Oh - no…."

"You should. Come on, then." The white-haired one promptly turned and walked away without a backward glance. Hesitantly, they followed. After a moment, Joey ventured to ask:

"Why do we need a place to stay, 'Kura? I mean, it's pretty hot out here -" he gestured to the now-indigo sky "- and buildings around here look kinda small. You sure you want us crowdin' in with ya?"

The archer didn't even turn around. "Of course." He glanced back at them. "Where in the names of the gods do you come from, anyway? Don't you know about the Cult?"

"Cult?" they repeated.

"The Cult, also called the Yashamaat. They've been here for years, how can you not know about them? It's not safe to be out at night with them around."

"We're from… a long way off," Yugi allowed, elbowing Tristan and Joey hard to get them from blabbing anything. They gave him murderous looks, but forgot about the pokes within a moment.

Bakura shrugged. Maybe they were Hebrew. "Whatever." Through the increasing darkness, he led them through several alleyways, countless streets, and then turned a corner to where the buildings were, in comparison, quite shabby. The four visitors looked around with mild surprise. Bakura lived here?

The guide was not at all ill at ease. He stepped casually over a few shards of broken pottery, bade them to watch for anything sharp, and then strode down the darkened street to one of the last buildings.

It was small and square, with a skin hung over the entranceway and only two windows in the whole thing. It obviously had no upstairs or basement, and it didn't look like it could possibly fit more than one or two small rooms. Yugi, Tristan, Joey, and Tea all stared at it, befuddled.

Bakura sighed, tired, and slid off his bow and quiver. "Ryou?" He motioned for them to follow him and pushed comfortably through the skin door. "Are you here?"

As Yugi ducked underneath the pelt, he sniffed. It still smelled almost alive, a sort of dusky, furry scent. There were other smells too - something heavy and overly sweet, and also the smell of smoke. There was an aroma of stone, too, if that were possible, and something sharp and pungent.

The room inside - there was only one - seemed incredibly small, but also bare on the floor. There were several skins inside, and some dried, reedy-looking stalks hung from the low ceiling. There was a jar, filled about halfway with water, a hollowed-out place in the back wall for a fire, but the strangest thing was that dozens of bows and knives hung on the walls, like an arsenal. And sitting in the corner was a person who, indeed, looked almost eerily like Bakura.

Tristan jerked in shock, and felt his hands clench as the young man looked up. The other three all flinched as well, and for yet another time stared openly.

The Spirit of the Millenium Ring. This one they really were sure of! It had to be, he looked just like Bakura, except the eyes were narrower, longer, and his face was slightly different. He was older. And he wore the offending object around his neck, gleaming gold against the bronzed skin.

Bakura sat down lightly next to him and picked up the small round fruit in front of him. The older one had set down the knife he had been peeling with when they came in, and Bakura grabbed it from the earth floor and began cutting at the skin of the fruit.

The older one glanced back and forth from his little brother to the four people standing in the middle of his house. Great. Who were they? Why did Bakura always have to bring people back here, like it wasn't enough to have the rest of the village to deal with….

After another moment, he stood and bowed from the waist, palms turned upward in front of him. "Hi, life and strength," he said after rising, dropping the courteous manner immediately afterwards. "Who are you people?"

Bakura gestured with the paring knife. "The girl is Tea, he's …yes, he's Joey, he's Tristan, and that one's Yugi." He smiled at them. "Sorry - this is my brother, Ryou." Ryou regarded them with mild curiosity and - he didn't bother hiding it - slight dislike and wariness. They all had an odd look about them, and the material of their clothing was thick - wool? But sheep weren't kept near here. Linen clothing was made here, papyrus and cotton clothing - not wool.

Well… he couldn't very well tell them to get out of his house…. Ryou shrugged indifferently and went back to the corner, snatching the knife back from his brother. Bakura glared at him, but without venom. Ryou looked only at the fruit and said, "Whatever. Make yourselves at home."

Tea stood awkwardly for a minute, then sat down next to one of the walls. Joey parked himself on top of the single stool, and the other two sat by Tea. Stripped of the knife, Bakura went outside for a few moments and came back with a thickly woven basket and a sharp stone. They watched him fill the basket with water from the jar, talking to them and asking them about subjects of no importance whatsoever. He yanked down one bundle of reeds, borrowed the knife and began slicing them.

Finally, after being asked about his hometown and replying 'Domino' (to the Egyptian brothers' extreme confusion) Yugi got up the nerve to ask, "So you know Yami?"

Ryou gave a very short laugh. Bakura ignored him and chopped one of the reeds in half. "Yes, I do. I've been friends with him for years. He," here he teasingly pointed the knife handle at his brother, "doesn't like Yami. I have no idea why."

Ryou shrugged and flashed a grin. "Can't help it. It's hereditary." He tossed one of the several fruits at Joey. "Here, eat it. You look half dead." Joey fumbled with the thing and finally recovered it. Within a second, Tristan had removed it and managed to fit the entire piece of food into his mouth. Tea, Yugi, and Bakura cracked up.

Ryou smiled a little, then glanced out of the window and cringed at the black, star-scattered sky. He had three, maybe four more hours. Then the others would know that he hadn't been there. It was not going to be in their nature to be very merciful, not after today….

A/N: I know that someone is going to yell at me for saying Bakura was an only child... but yes, I do know about Amane. I just figured that Yugi might not... '''

Ah, I'm sorry... Ryou/Yami Bakura was pretty OOC. --'''''' Hikari Bakura seemed OOC too, I'm sure, but he's not. One of the themes I'd like to emphasize in "Consequence" is how people's personalities change depending on what situations they're used to. Having been raised by Yami Bakura, I decided that Hikari Bakura would be less... well... sweet. That's why I wrote him to be a bit rougher than normal.

Hm, as for that last paragraph... Well, you'll find out soon enough! Ryou's story is the part of "Consequence" that I find the most interesting, so I look forward to telling it in its entirety...

And that's all for my notes. Please review! The button won't hurt you::puppy eyes::