The uncomfortable silence hung heavily between them, and Isis glanced at Yami. The young Pharoah's wry humor had faded away into
a dark contemplation, as he stared unblinkingly at the small form covered by the cloak. Isis had noticed his brilliant violet eyes taking on
the darker shades of uncertainty, as he turned to look at her over his narrow, hunched shoulder. He swallowed hard, and sighed.
"Isis?" Came his soft inquery, as Yami wrenched his eyes away from the corpse to turn all the way towards her.
"Yes, my king? What is it?" Yami gave her an annoyed glance at the use of his former title. " I should call you my queen, my lady. It is not fitting for
the Pharoah to be addressed by her first name as if she were nothing more than a commoner."
Isis lay two slim hands over his shoulders, and peered deeply into his eyes. "My king, as your Pharoah, I order you to call me nothing more than Isis. As for the commoners, may the day never come when I ever think they are unworthy of any less courtesy than I would give the highest-ranked official. I was once one of them, as you know."
Yami dipped his head in acknowledgement, before gesturing towards the dark and bloodied cloak. " This..." he paused, groping for words.
"This unpleasant task is not yet finished, is it? That is to say-"
Isis nodded, in silent compassion, as her hands gently gripped his shoulders in an effort to lend comfort. "You are right. It is not."
Yami bowed his head, in weary resignation, and sighed, brokenly. "What exactly is involved with the sealing of the Shadows? Does that mean I will be mutilated for an eternity such as Seth? Or will I be condemned to drift as a wraith and a shadow for eternity?"
"My king. I do not know which path your soul may take when you depart from this world, or what design Ra in his wisdom may have for you. But I know that such a noble spirit that is willing to sacrifice all will be more than remembered. I do not know what your future holds, but I do know that it has not ended because you have breathed your last. At the end of all of this, you will find peace."
It was iron-clad certainty offered to him with a trembling smile. A cherished bit of reassurance from one of his most trusted friends. Yami did nothing but take her hand, fold it between his two, and grace it with a lordly kiss for such a gracious gift when he needed it the most.
The suspicious flush that now reddened the Priestess's face was only magified by her touched awe. They lingered in that sweet moment together-
Isis so that she could remember the Pharoah as the gallant prince who she considered her friend, and Yami-so he could have that one act of kindness that would radiate like a jewel in his memory in the midst of so much betrayal and anguish. He would draw much comfort from the memory of Isis in the years that would follow.
Yami relunctantly released her hand, with a small bow. " You will always be the most trusted friend I have had, my lady."
Isis negated it with a shake of her head. "You will find, my king, that you will not be alone on your journey. There will be others who will come along when you need them the most. Do not ask me how I know this. I have forseen it."
Yami's brow furrowed at Isis's vague, but hopeful words, but seeing her coy, mysterious smile, and the light touch of her hand on her Milliliumn Necklace.
Haltingly, Yami drew himself to his full height. He seemed almost apologetic or even timid, as he gestured back to his covered corpse.
"The Sealing of the Shadows. Will that involve as much suffering as what happened before? You mentioned before that it would involve yielding up my soul. Does that mean that I am condemning myself?"
Isis did not answer for a long moment, as she glided forward to grip the Pyramid in one hand and the dagger in the other. She whirled around when she heard the panicked whimper, as Yami backed away with a trembling hand rubbing over his heaving throat.
"Oh! My king, please, forgive me. Yami? Are you unwell?" The utter stupidity of her question was emphasized as Yami back peddled until his back smacked hard against the wall. His eyes darted frantically behind him, his fingers splayed and seeking escape from the horrible sensations that now barraged his mind in one blind, vicious wave. His eyes never wavered in their terror-glazed focus on that dagger that was less than three feet from his quaking throat.
Yami could not answer, could not feel, could not reply, or even muster enough of his shattered control to allow Isis's gentle probe of his mind.
He only convulsed involuntarily when he felt the intrusion, the world fading to darkness, that same horrible sensation of his flesh giving away to the blade. Somewhere in that rising terror, he thought he heard Seth's satisfied cackle.
Yami hung, suspended in that horrible memory, his hands rising to claw at his neck until fresh blood was hacked to the surface by his bared nails.
Isis backed away in horror, as she shrieked his name. Yami suddenly stiffened, as if he had been stabbed, as he buried his head in the shelter of his crossed arms and slid downward into a shivering ball of frenzied panic.
Isis hastily put her damp palms to the sides of the Pyramid, her eyes darting frantically to Yami, as she muttered an incantation under her breath.
The Pyramid glowed blinding, seeking gold, as its radiance spewed out from its sides and engulfed Yami. Yami's body quivered in rebellion against the sensation of his clenched, knotted muscles ready to explode into movement going limp as water and the alien, but not unwelcome feeling of his terror forcibly yielding to bizzarre, forcibly drugged peace. Isis muttered one more relaxation spell, and Yami slumped bonelessly, but his eyes were wide with terror at the sudden paralysis.
"Yami." Isis watched as his eyes jerked to meet hers, with a horrible questioning. "Yami, please. Surrender to the peace. It will not harm you. I will not harm you."
Yami's face contorted, pleading. He could no longer speak, or even think co-herent thoughts above the panic enough to answer her. He felt the delicate probing of Isis into his mind, and he flinched, but did not resist. Isis winced with sympathy when she felt Yami's fluttering emotions swirling deeper and deeper into a chaotic spiral that threatened to consume him. And she blanched at her unwitting stupidity of handling that dagger in front of him. With all the tension and agonized strain he had-being tortured to death, suddenly coming back, and reliving that horrible moment again...it was easy to see how emotionally wrecked he was, and how even the slightest hint of there being a repeat could send him into that animalistic spasm. Even now, she could feel Yami writhing helplessly against her attempt to relax him. He was obviously too hysterical to differentiate between the soothing of a friend, and the stabbing of an enemy. Isis shook her head with tears. Both had been forced upon him with
equal brutality, without his consent. And, now, unable to retreat, defend himself, or even cry out, Yami could only endure each unleashed cruelty until it chose to relinguish its vicious grasp. No wonder she had seen him weep so much in these past few tortured days.
"Yami. Please, focus on my voice, and calm yourself. What you are experiencing now is a very painful battle..between my relaxation spell, and your blind refusal to yield your pain to me. Please, let me help you!"
Yami could only screw his eyes shut even tighter, and struggle uselessly at the attempt to form words from the whirlwind of churning emotion that was steadily drawing him downward. Unrestrained terror, confusion, and raw, bleeding hurt overshadowing everything else. Isis hastily drew back from any more probing of his mental shields. Yami was too much of a chaotic storm at the moment for him to accept that sort of help from her right then. The moment she withdrew her power, Yami visibly eased, even to the point of exhaling that some of that horrific assalt had slacked off enough for him to think.
Yami closed his eyes, and Isis shuddered when she felt the bitter torrent flooding into her mind in reply.
"Why are you doing this to me?! Am I such a plaything to you that you have the right to decide what to do with my pain?"
She gaped. "My king? I am trying to help you. You have been through a horrible, unjust murder. Please, please, allow me to help you!"
Yami opened his eyes, and she blanched to see the futile rage that was burning in his eyes, contrasted by the surrendering slump that his body had already adopted, despite his best attempt to fight it.
"Allow you to help me? Isis, you have taken control of me and robbed me of any consent of what may be done to me! Any means I had of controlling my fate-even if it is reduced to how to deal with the pain-has been stripped from me, by your own misguided intentions! Please-"
He swallowed back the groan of pain, as his taxed muscles both sagged and ached from the strain.
"Either take my awareness and memories of this torture away, or leave me be to decide how to bear it. Don't attempt to remove part of it, and leave me completely at your mercy again. Don't force upon me the cruelty of this lingering between the paralysis and the dark. It was with the best of intentions you drove the dagger through my heart, and it was with the worst that Seth cut my throat, but both resulted in my suffering more. As I am, still!"
Yami forced himself to drag his eyelids open, the heavy relaxation spell hanging over him with a vague haze that resembled a warm, spiked blanket. It was disorienting, and it made him feel dizzy and ill. His thoughts, like his words, felt as if they had turned to boulders coated in velvet-soft to brush against, but so hard for him to push out. And, with a fuzzy jolt of realization, Yami saw with torpid clarity that his blind, panicking breakdown had far less to do with being slaughtered, but everything to do with his inability to protect himself, and know when to fend off the next wound. No wonder he felt so disconnected, and shattered. As of late, he had no time to put the gaping shards of his mind back together into some sort of semblance of function. It was hard to heal the wounds when you had no certainty that you would have the means of stopping the hurt. His rather pathetic, but completely honest pleading with Isis had spewed forth from that anguish. Yami, if he could, would have curled into a silent cacoon of depression, or indifference, or distance...anything that would distance him from the desperate sensation that he was always falling into darkness, and never having the ability to even stumble out of its way. No, his only option was this horrible waiting.
Isis regarded him with indifferent, regal silence, one eye brow arched in thought, a strange, probing glitter of calculation, and a cruel, curious turn bending her lips into something ugly. Yami's breath quickened in fear. Why, oh why had he been so stupid as to admit his gaping weakness to her? As he kept pointing out to her, he was completely at her mercy. That cloying, floating sensation hadn't eased, either.
Perhaps it was just another trick of his mental functioning-Ra knew his sanity was rapidly erroding over the dizzying array of being both mortal, imortal, raised from the dead without a body, and now, some sort of spectre...Yami's head throbbed from trying to sort it out. Yami inhaled, and attempted to look indifferently bored as Isis continued to mull over whatever sadism he was to be subjected to again.
He had nearly given to the fatigue and the siren's call of slumber, and rest, however artificially induced it may have been. Isis watched the poor Pharoah battle valiently with the overwhelming urge to close his eyes, eased on by her silent incantation. Mayhaps it was his own wounded sense of justice, or just his pride, but Yami would not rest, but linger in that torturing limbo. Isis supposed, if she really wanted to, she could simply keep on probing Yami's mind, gradually erroding away what little protection he had left, and just overwhelm him into obedience. She shuddered at the thought. To attack Yami when he was already saddled with so much pain would have been an act committed by Seth. But, even her gentlest of sleeping spells-which she intended to give Yami a much needed rest before she continued the sealing-only seemed to confirm Yami's new, harsh belief that she was intentionally hurting him.
With a sigh, she tried one more time to lull him to sleep by fusing his worried thoughts into a gentle wave of peace. Yami's face crumbled in pain, and she nearly leapt into the air when he barked out the harsh command , "STOP IT!" He was quivering again, and his eyes were burning in their
accusing, hard stare.
She nearly fell when she felt the spell being slammed into one of his barriers, and hurled back at her with brutal intention. She watched Yami as his eyes slowly lost their focus, darkening into even deeper shades of violet, as he bared his teeth like a cornered animal, and gave a scathing glance at his paralyzed body.
Isis watched in disbelief as Yami's forehead suddenly glowed with the rainbowed eye of Horus, and she felt the restraints she had placed over him snap and give way. Yami slowly climbed to his feet, with a sneer, as he tilted his head to the side, in silent, eerie contemplation.
Isis felt the cold chill of fear trickle down her spine as she saw the glittering calculation in his eyes, and that broken smirk grace his lips.
It was the same look that Seth had as he snatched the dagger from her.
"Maybe, I should grant you the same mercy I was shown, my lady." Isis watched Yami in growing fear as he slid casually over to her, the dark shadows clinging to him in eerie trails, his feet gliding over the stones with feline grace. Yami had not grown any taller, or manifested any physical change, but the cloying menace seemed to radiate from him as he met her eyes and placed two clenched hands on her shoulders, and held her in place.
Isis tried not to wince from the pain, but whatever had taken him over gave him unnatural strength. His fingers were digging into her flesh, hard, and she felt the bones in her shoulders shuddering, and ready to give way under his unyielding grip. Yami's eyes were yawning, hungry pits of the abyss, and his whole body seemed to pulse with his barely restrained rage. His hands slowly ghosted their way from her quaking shoulders to her neck and she exhaled sharply when she felt his fingers wrap firmly around her throat and begin to squeeze, harder, and harder as that feral grin about his lips grew wider in satisfaction. Isis squirmed under the strangling pressure, her hands flew up to defend her tender neck, battering at his arms. It was a useless show of force.
"My king! Stop this, you are hurting me!" Yami tilted his head sideways, gave her a bared snarl, and only tightened his grip.
Isis closed her eyes, grimaced, and whispered her final incantation. With a growl of her own, she gripped Yami's wrist firmly, and braced herself.
Coiling up from her arm, she summoned the shadows to their full strength. With a prayer for forgiveness, she unleashed the full, unrestrained force of her attack onto Yami.
Yami screamed in pain,as the seering wave of icy fire suddenly ripped its way through his body. It hurt almost as much as being stabbed. Yami released her throat as he sank to the ground, without a sound. Isis, sensing his vulnerabilty, hastily unleashed another slumber spell.
Yami's body nearly snapped in half from the jolt, and she heard the reverberating hiss of power as it flaired harmlessly over his still arched back.
Isis hastily ran to his side, and to her horror, his eyes were empty, and eerily focused on the ceiling. There was no sign that he was alive. Isis used his incapitation to her advantage as she gripped the Puzzle, in shaking hands. She hastily sliced her palm open with one of its points, then smeared the blood on the side of the Pyramid.
Indeed, the stupor that gripped Yami seemed to intensify, as Yami helplessly drifted into the dark. He made a small noise of protest, but Isis allowed herself a small smirk of satisfaction as Yami finally surrendered. His eyelids drooped, and his tense, coiled body finally went limp. Isis casually released her grip on the Puzzle's sharp point, hissing a bit in acknowledgement of the open cut that dribbled scarlet down the golden side, with a sad smile as she stared down at Yami's corpse, and his paralyzed spirit laying beside it.
Choices.
How had it come to this? Isis wearily rubbed her throbbing temples, in some attempt to sort out exactly how in the heck a simple, noble sacrifice had resulted in the death of one of the high priests, and rendered Yami this broken, evil creature that she could only seem to shackle or wound into submission to protect herself. She had looked into his eyes, and saw the blazing, murderous intention shimmering from their violet depths. If she hadn't uttered that spell, she knew without any charitible doubt, that Yami would have cheerfully strangled her. Yami still lay crumpled and splayed where he had lost his battle to her spell. She did a quick assessment of his mind, and recoiled at the churning, dark insanity that was steadily groping its way over that kind light that she had seen in him before this whole debacle started.
Was Yami beyond redemption now? Would it have been a kinder act to let Seth complete his depraved slashing? At least then, Yami would be
at peace in the afterlife, and not lingering in this torment, his body useless, his mind shattered, and his soul steadily wilting under the evil inflicted upon it.
Indeed, it was a twisted act of mercy on her part when she attempted to lull him to sleep, and only succeeded in awakening this demonic beast where her friend was, once. She was startled to see Yami groan, and his eyes languidly open. From the dull light of his heavily lidded eyes, and the sluggish movement, she could tell that he was no threat.
"My king?" she ventured softly as Yami stared up at her through the confused haze of the repeated sleeping incantation.
His brow furrowed, and he attempted to croak out, "What...di-.. do to me?" His speech was slurred, and barely understandable, and Isis
nearly wept when she saw the former king completely unaware of the drool that was collecting at the corner of his mouth.
"Yami, I-please, please forgive me for this."
Yami's brow only crinkled more in confusion, as he made another attempt at talking. "Why...am I...like dish? What id you do?"
His last words were grunted out as he stared up at her from the floor.
Isis stooped beside him, her trembling hands climbing to the wrinkled collar of her gown, ready to rip away the seam and show him the bruises he gave her. But, Isis hesitated, her hand lingering, clutching uneasily in indecision. It would have been an act of revenge. And, from the wrecked, drooling, helpless creature before her, she wasn't sure that Yami was even capable of understanding all the horrible whys and reasons he had been reduced to...this.
She looked down at Yami, who was still glaring up at her petulantly, expecting an answer. She was suprised he didn't have his lower lip out in a childish pout.
"Yami?"
"Yesh? I...I'm still wait...I..." He gave a growl of frustation. "Ansher!"
"You want an...answer?" She ventured, and it was confirmed as correct by Yami's impatient scowl deepening, and a vigourous nod of his head.
"Yami? May I try something?" Yami raised his eyebrows suspiciously, and narrowed his eyes.
"Would it be easier for you to talk using your thoughts and not your words? I know that you have been put through several sleep incanatations, and I don't think your body can handle much speech at the moment."
Yami looked stricken,and she could already see the panic rising in his trembling, and that glazed look returning to his eyes.
"YAMI"
He shuddered, and whimpered in that all familiar attempt to shield himself. The broken thoughts and fragmented speech were bleeding through her mind, as he struggled with the rudimentary vocabulary his wounded mind was left to work with. Isis felt the effort it took for him to drag up one word.
'Hurts."
It was a childish honesty, gripped with anguish. From the humiliated heat rising to his cheeks, Isis could tell that Yami was suddenly, brutally aware of his newest, cruelest shackles.
He looked up at her, and shook his head, with a trembling hand tapping his temple, as he started to cry.
"CAN'T!" It was a choked sob of realization, and Isis could only watch helplessly as Yami started howling. Within two steps, she had him wrapped in her shaking arms, cradling him like a child as he could only lean into her embrace and let her soothe him in the best way she could. She held onto him like that for what may have been minutes, or hours, until he pulled away, exhausted, pale, and still shaking with the terrible knowledge of his damaged mind.
Isis was suprised to see him rise to his feet, however shakingly, and stare down at her, the glittering awareness flitting across his eyes making his condition all the more cruel.
"Yami? What do you want, my king?" Yami opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head in hopelessness. He no longer had the words to make himself understood. Pleadingly, he extended his hands to her, and jerked his head over his shoulder. Isis allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, and watched Yami, curiously, as he led her over to the table, the Pyramid and the dagger still sitting on the sheets that covered his body as if it were an altar. He gave her a pointed glare, of eerie resolve as he gripped her wrist, and dragged her forward. She staggered on, confused.
Despite his small stature, the Pharoah was still quite strong. Yami drew up sharply, and jabbed a finger at both the Pyramid, and the dagger, his finger trailing off then poking himself hard on the chest.
With barely contained fury, Yami gripped her arms in a bruising vise as he whirled her around to face him. She flinched at the intensinty of his growled command.
"End this." She stood, paralyzed by both his hands on her, and the weight of his steady, uncompromising stare. It was the last remnent of strength Yami had-the regal, violet eyes, but it was not enough.
"My king?" She whispered, stupidly, as Yami snarled at her, and dropped one of her hands, and recoiled when she felt the sensation of a brutally cold blade being pressed into her hand. Yami twisted her fingers into a punishing fist around the handle of the dagger, and with the other hand, had rammed the Puzzle into her quaking palms. Isis let him manuver her until she was propped up by the wall. Yami's scowl deepened when he saw her quaking slide downward, and she felt herself being braced by both of his hands, as he held her up, taking advantage to look into her eyes.
"Please." It was one word, heaved out from the last fragments of his thoughts, the final attempt to beg for mercy from a brutalized body that had recieved none, despite his innocence, or his pleas. She stared down at Yami, and saw the storms of torment and unspeakable horror as they raged across his eyes. She could see the quivering frame, wracked by helpless fury, and quaking with every tortured emotion he could no longer control, let alone defend himself against. The burden of decay as he felt his mind decsentigrate, the misery, the suffering. The evil that had stolen her noble king and left this broken wreck behind that was reduced to grunting words at her and shoving a dagger in her hand to end it all.
"No, my king." Yami's mouth fell open, and the pleading tears came to his eyes as he hastily snatched the dagger and held it out to her.
"No, Yami. I will not do this. I will do something more merciful than kill you."
Yami looked up at her, considering. She nearly smiled to see the shadow of the king return, if only for a moment.
"I will give you a choice, my king. It is your soul, and you have the right to decide what happens to it. I promise, by Ra himself, I will not so much as touch you without your permission."
Yami gave her a scathing, bitter stare, as he shook his head, slowly. He raised a quaking finger to his temple, tapped it for emphasis, as he
waved his hands in negation.
"You misunderstand me, my king." Yami gave her such a look of wounded suprise and indignant glare that she backed away, hastily.
Isis took a deep, cleansing breath, tried to gather the shaking remains of her self-control, and pleaded with the heavens for patience. She eyed the Pharoah, who stood resolutely with his arms crossed, and his lips set in a firm, uncompromising line.
"Yami. Will you hear me out? Or will your own stubborn pride keep you shackled here in this torment?"
Yami begrugdingly raised an eyebrow, and then raised his chin and hand in a regal gesture.
"Does this mean that I may continue, my king?" Isis fought to keep the wry amusement out of her voice. Yami grunted permission.
"I thank you, my king, for your patience in granting an audience with me." Isis mockingly swept into a grand curtsy, before Yami, who could only snort his offense.
"Yami, you really must stop the grunting and the snorts. It is not becoming for a son of Egypt to sound like a well-fed boar. Especially one as small as you."
Yami jerked towards her, the old fire of poked pride rising to his eyes as he straddled hands on his hips, mouth flying open to give a scathing, regal retort.
Isis felt her burbling laughter die down to sympathy as Yami struggled to fling out the sarcastic reply, but could only put a shaking hand over his mouth in wounded, naked shock. He could not answer! He shook his head in fearful denial, opened his mouth to scream, and again, nothing. He stared at her, wide-eyed, the new awareness of his damage crashing down on him in all its brutality. If anything, that reminder seemed to break him even more. Mutely, Yami wilted back to his former slumping posture, his head lowering like a defeated army's banner.
With a sigh, Isis knelt beside him, her eyes glittering at his throat. Yami imediately started panting, scuttling backwards to escape, found his back grinding into the wall.
"Le me help you, Yami." She was rewarded with an ill-aimed sandle grazing her knee. Isis's eyes shot upward, her lip arching in irritation, as Yami bowed up further against the wall as he continued his pathetic scuttle away from her.
Isis looked eerily apologetic as she raised a hand high, and soundly slapped the Pharoah across his cheek. The sting across his flesh,and the shock that she dare strike him-in such a degrading way-shocked Yami out of his panic attack. He cocked his head to the side, and stared up at her, in awe, and growing irritation. He brought a hand to his throbbing cheek, and then looked up at her, looking quite furious.
Isis had her hands spread on her hips, and looked every bit like an irritated mother scolding a misbehaving child. Yami was completely flumoxed by this change, and stared up at her, in stunned silence. Isis towered over him, and glowered down at him, with a shake of her head.
"Now that I have your attention, my king, I suggest you listen to me. I understand that you are afraid, and I made this situation much worse by attempting my sleeping spells. I know that you have been through more in these past few days than you have had to endure in your past life time, and I am sorry for that, and for you. But this grip of helpless fear and pain on you is only keeping you shackled to this torture. I have done all that I can to alliviate that, and you considered each attempt to be nothing more than a means to control you. That makes my magic essentually worthless. Even now, the reason you cannot speak is because you yourself believe that you are stripped defenseless with no choices left, and that you are at the mercy of somebody you consider to be a traitor. I will restore your voice, if you let me. I will rid you of the remnants of the sleeping spell, as you wish. And I will explain all that I can about the sealing of your soul. But, I cannot do anything more than what you are willing to permit, and I am exhausted in my attempts to aid you."
Before Yami could even think, Isis reached for his neck, lay a cool hand across his tremoring throat. Yami felt a comfortable warmth for a brief moment, and then she wisely withdrew before he could strike her.
He glared at her, petulantly,as he rubbed an exploring hand over his throat. The scars were still there, but not as prominant.
