Chapter 14—On the Homefront

Back in the Shadow World, Joey was pacing the floor of the Kame Game Shop. Solomon thought he might wear a track in it soon—he'd been doing this every day for a week. All of them—Joey, Tea, and Tristan—had come to his shop. They wanted to do something, they wanted to act, but there was nothing they could do.

Solomon sighed and returned to wiping off the glass display cases. He, too, was helpless. That other man, Vice, hadn't come in a few days…Solomon wondered where he might be.

What am I going to do…? he thought, slumping onto a stool. He felt…empty. He had been trying to deny the existence of other Worlds for years now, but it seemed futile to continue. Somehow, his life had once again become entwined with those of strangers from beyond the universe. He felt strange even thinking those words—beyond the universe.

"Ahh, dammit—what are we gonna do?" Joey burst out, pausing mid-step. Tristan, leaning against the wall behind him, sighed.

"I know, man, but…what can we do? I mean…we don't even where he is."

"But it must be…you know…another World, right?" said Tea. "I mean…that girl went with him, I guess, and anyway, where else could it be…?"

"He wouldn't have just gone off somewhere without tellin' us!" Joey insisted.

Tristan nodded. "I know, I know, I agree with you. But that's almost worse!"

Tea bit her lip, face twisted in worry. "It all comes back to one thing…it must be…them. The…the Chaos people."

Solomon leaned on the counter, not joining in the discussion. Chaos…he had heard those words before. He remembered so clearly, the discussions that had been held in this very room by that strange group…which had included Vice—or Shang, as they had called him—and Kaltan, his friend…and Solomon's son, Jonas…and Jonas' wife, Serena…

"Now…Selphi, will you give the intelligence report?"

Jonas sat down beside his wife, and a young woman with smooth, rubbery blue-gray skin stood. She was from an amphibious race—Solomon had never asked what—and in her hands she clutched a slightly damp packet of paper.

"It seems he is looking for something…what, we don't know. But his spymaster—that awful demon, that Oracle—has been scouting, searching…the Overlord wants something badly. Here, and here, it's mentioned…the Oracle said to one of the guards on the western front, 'Is there any news of it yet?' And the guard said, 'No, we've seen no sign of its aura trace.' That seems like it's something magic, doesn't it?"

"But what is it?" asked Bob. Bob wasn't his real name, Solomon knew that—the man had told him he changed his name when he left his home. Bob never told Solomon where his home was, or what his original name was, but Solomon did know that he was something called an 'earth elementalist.' Whatever that was.

Selphi shrugged, or at least it looked like a shrug—her joints were aligned differently than a human's, so Solomon had to guess at her gestures. "I'm not sure, but it must be important, because the Oracle himself is wandering around looking for it, and none of the troops knows what it is. But Kaelta can tell you more about that—she overheard the Oracle talking to the Lieutenant—the Shadow Master." She shivered slightly as she spoke the name of the fearsome creature.

Kaelta stood. She was unnaturally slight, her bones fine, her body small and too thin. And she had wings. Butterfly wings. Solomon was told she was a 'fey.' Solomon supposed that meant 'fairy,' because she looked like one. Except that fairies weren't real. Solomon shook his head.

"Well, I was flying, using my glaemour charm to make myself invisible, you know, and I lit on this tree, just lightly, so they wouldn't spot me, and there they were…it was at the train depot, they've conquered most of it, and the Lieutenant was about to travel to the new front—the battle in Oceania—and they were talking…and the Oracle told him to 'keep an eye out for it.' And the Lieutenant didn't ask what 'it' was, just said, 'Your spies are searching everywhere, constantly, and still you cannot find it? How shameful.' It was very odd…"

Solomon began taking inventory of the next display case, keeping an ear tuned to the meeting. He wasn't sure exactly what they were talking about—it was very complicated—but he was sure it was dangerous. They were all too young for this, too young to be involved…fighting some kind of—of war?

He did not understand them. He did not want them to be real, to believe what they told him. But spending time with them, living with them, listening to them tell stories of their old lives, and how they had been shattered by this 'Overlord'…Solomon could not help but feel for them. And he didn't believe them for a moment when they told him it wasn't dangerous—one of them was missing tonight, that Friikash, the lizard-looking one…Solomon was certain he was dead. Others had injuries—Rayli had lost a hand, for goodness' sake! And they told him it was nothing…

"Please…don't let them be hurt," he whispered softly. He finished his inventory, headed off to sleep…and still their words echoed in his mind.

"We must find it soon…or perish."

"Look—it's Vice!"

Solomon was shaken from his unhappy memories by a knock at the door. A moment later, Vice stepped inside. He bowed politely to Solomon, his falcon companion sitting on his shoulder, then turned to Tea, Joey and Tristan, who had rushed over and begun pelting him with questions at once.

"Vice, is there anything, have you heard anything at all--?"

"No," he said, shaking his head sadly. "There is still nothing. I suspect that wherever Yuugi has disappeared to...there are no witnesses to report it but Chaos soldiers."

"Come on—there must be something! What's the use of all that magic you do if you can't even do this?" Joey shouted, slamming his fist into the wall in rage and frustration.

Vice raised his hands placatingly. "Please, calm down. You must understand—there are limits to what I can do. The Chaos Army is one of the most powerful this sector of the Multiverse has ever seen, and even now, in its weakened state, its strength is growing. The Chaos Oracle is a master of espionage, he wields Chaos-element magic in the highest degree, and the Lieutenant is one of the greatest warriors you will ever meet. I have not the strength to find Yuugi. I have not the strength to fight them all."

Tea put a restraining hand on Joey's arm. "We know, Vice…you're doing the best you can. We just have to trust that Yuugi will find a way back on his own."

"…yes…" Vice said softly, his eyes far away. Then he seemed to come back to himself. "Suffice it to say, there is nothing you can do to help Yuugi. For now, we must be patient."

They nodded reluctantly. Tea was the first to break the silence.

"I have to get home, my aunt's visiting us this week, my parents will be furious if I'm not there…"

Tristan and Joey also left for their own homes, their own lives—lives that had been so frequently interrupted by their other lives…by their journeys in the Multiverse. Vice remained, standing in the Kame Game Shop, his brilliantly green eyes dim and shadowed.

"Will any survive…?" he whispered softly.

"Nothing we can do but hope," Solomon said.

Vice started, turned to find Solomon standing behind him. He smiled slightly. "Forgive me—I did not realize you were listening. I know you don't like to think of other Worlds and soforth…"

Solomon hesitated a moment. He did not want to think of it. His life had been complicated enough by those Millennium Items and the magic Yuugi told him they possessed without adding the Multiverse to it. But…

"Please…tell me what's going on," he said in a rush, before he could change his mind. "He's grandson…my only living relative. What's happening, why is all of this…what is all of this?"

Vice regarded the old man intently for a long moment. "You have a right to know," he said at last. "You have a right to know why this has come to you. The 'why' of the Overlord's hunt for Yuugi is this: there was a prophecy made many years ago concerning the one who would defeat the Overlord…and when the Overlord found out that your son and daughter-in-law were going to have a child, he realized that child was the one. The one with the power to defeat him. And so those who had been only an annoyance before became a threat…and were eliminated." He looked away, face shadowed with grief.

Solomon was silent for a moment, digesting this new information. "But…this prophecy was made before Yuugi was born?"

"Before his parents were born…possibly before you were born. It is quite old."

"But then…does this mean…the things I did in my life, the things my son did—were they…fated to happen? Does this mean that Yuugi was meant to be born, they were meant to die, all of this was…was…"

"Fated? No," said Vice calmly. "But destined? Yes…I suppose it was."

"But it's the same thing!" Solomon cried, distressed. He could not have said exactly why he was so upset by this news; it was the thought that everything was already decided…that nothing he did made a difference.

"It is not the same," Vice said sharply. "It is all the difference in the world. There is no fate. Fate is a word used to refer to a predestined outcome—something that was unavoidable, something that, from the beginning of time, perhaps, was foretold to happen, meant to happen, doomed, one might say, to happen. But there is no such thing. Destiny, on the other hand…is a choice. Yuugi is destined to defeat the Overlord, how I do not know. But this does not mean that it must happen; it merely means that he is…called to do it where others are not. Able to do it, where others are not. Destiny represents a purpose, a calling, a…a special identity. Some people say that we are all destined for something. But it is our choice to accept or deny that destiny…or to forge our own."

Solomon frowned; the explanation was appealing, but something still troubled him. "But the prophecy…how could it have meant Yuugi if it was made before he was born? Wouldn't the prophet have had to know he was going to be born…?"

Vice shook his head, now smiling reassuringly. "No, no, that's a common misconception of prescience, that it foretells, it's more of a forecast really…a kind of representation of possibilities. You see…that prophecy could have meant anyone. It still can. It identified the characteristics of the one who would have the power to defeat the Overlord, but anyone who fulfills these characters has that power. Yuugi is the first person the Overlord found who has them. And so he seeks Yuugi's death…" He sighed, troubled once more.

Solomon nodded slowly, then more firmly. Yes—that sounded reasonable, that…that, he could trust. But something else occurred to him. "But the ability to see the future—that's not the same as this prophecy, this prophecy identified a specific person, but simply what is to come…what about that?"

Solomon would have known better than to ask if he had known more about Vice; Yuugi and his friends would have recognized the look on Vice's face. It signified an imminent flood of learning and scholarly research that could reduce most people to unconsciousness within minutes of its start. Vice was highly intelligent, and knowledgeable in many areas, but he did have a tendency to ramble.

"You see, 'predictions' of the future are like predictions of the weather, in a sense. They say what may happen, what is most probable to happen, what may happen only under certain circumstances…there are many varieties. The best seers can predict the future with a high degree of accuracy because their magic enables them to analyze the probable outcomes of a certain event to a high degree, thus increasing the number of variables considered and minimizing the chance of false conclusions, although of course specific questions are still more difficult to answer accurately than more general ones…"

Solomon slumped back in his stool as Vice spoke on, gesturing enthusiastically and even pacing back and forth at times. Solomon was actually very interested, and listened attentively. So this was the world his son had discovered…a world with rules of its own, with magic and technology beyond his understanding…a world waiting to be explored.

Solomon had been an archaeologist. He was an explorer, a seeker of knowledge, by nature.

Perhaps this Multiverse wasn't such a bad thing after all.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Vice sat on the steps of the Kame Game Shop, watching the constellations. It was around 2 o'clock in the morning…the perfect time to stargaze. In his own World, such magnificent stars were becoming rare.

Vice sighed pensively. What was to become of Akarana, most beautiful of Worlds, now most cursed…? Was it beyond salvation? Was there no other course but this slow decay, this slow downward spiral to destruction…?

He gave himself a mental shake. Now was not the time for such thoughts. There was more at stake than just the fate of his own World. He was the Last of Ancients; Myounichi himself had trained Vice and initiated him into the ranks of the Star Warriors. It was his duty to think of all Worlds, and not only dying Dark World.

"Where are you?" he whispered. "Do you have him, then? Will you give him to the Overlord? Will you seal all our fates…?"

Vice bowed his head, his face pained. "Why…why did you do it? It's been more than a decade, and still I don't understand…why?"

He sighed and leaned back again, watching the stars. "Do you think if it still? Not a day has gone by that I did not think of you…but perhaps you've forgotten all of it. You were always very practical that way…"

His eyes closed, and he sank into his memories…

"What should we do, arochi? Rayli's hurt, she can't fight, we're outnumbered…can we hold this position?"

Kaltan surveyed the field with utter calm. The sight of the vast black swarm that was the Chaos Army didn't unnerve him at all.

"The others will reach us soon. Until then, we will hold the point and protect kachi-ka."

Vice smiled despite their dire situation. "Can't you just call her Rayli? She asked us to."

He shrugged dispassionately. "It is nothing to me. I do not know her, and I will not call a stranger by her name."

"You don't call me by my name either," Vice pointed out, trying to provoke Kaltan.

"I know you too well to use it now," he replied simply.

Vice laughed. "Ah…you've beaten me again, arochi."

Kaltan made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a sniff. "Come. There is a battle to be fought!"

They drew their swords, twin blades forged together, made to fight together, and took up their positions back-to-back. The enemy broke upon them like a wave on a rock, and their blades darted in and out, so quickly they were a blur. None could withstand their power when they fought as one…

Vice smiled reminiscently. "You were the strongest warrior I had ever met, arochi…you could always beat me at swords. But when I used my knives, you always lost…you could never get used to the range difference…"

He lay back, eyes half-closed. Vice was exhausted from long days and nights of searching…a short rest wouldn't hurt. He would just stay here for a moment…

"I can imagine the look on your face if you knew I still called you arochi…and what you'd say, too…'how can you call yourself a Darkling?'" Vice laughed softly. "What would you call me if we met again, I wonder? Would you call me an enemy…?"

"Would you kill me too?"