Hey Beautifuls, as always I hope you enjoy and don't hate me too much for the semi cliff-hanger hanging over this chapter!

Chapter 5: Damsels In and Out of Distress

"This is why you don't date," Yami supposed quietly feeling exceptionally brave and languid as his arms drew Yugi close and held them together. Things made sense.

"This makes it complicated." He agreed nose brushing the tendons of Yami's neck as he settled into the grip. "I don't want to lie to someone. So I decided not to try anything till I was on top of it which, wouldn't you figure, took about eight years."

"So I'm your first boyfriend." He grinned. "I seem to remember you teasing me about that."

"You're a pussycat." Yugi scoffed. "Tease still stands."

"You're gorgeous." Yami was gushing again, Lord help him, but that inkling of Atemu bravery still held out. "I want to know everything."

"Park closes at five. We haven't got enough time for everything."

"What-"

"Two options." Yugi hushed shuffling onto his elbows. "I can answer your questions now or later. If you pick later there's a door prize."

"A good one?" The grin that forced its way across his features was inescapable.

"I'm sick of exposition." He laughed. "So yeah, I'll make it worth your while."

Yami had sunk into a level of contented euphoria where he felt, for the first time, as lightly confident and brave as Atemu. So without further alluding, without asking for permission, he slipped his hand over Yugi's cheek to tangle tightly in his hair and draw them together. Yugi squeaked, a bizarrely delicate sound, but melted instantaneously to rest his full weight into Yami. It was a war victory, almost, Yami was convinced his heart was going to burst when what he could only call a Reaper's strength compelled him to exert the muscles in his legs and roll them in the grass. He was convinced by some supernatural force he was stained as dark skinned as Atemu now with this bravery as his arms wrapped round Yugi's waist, cradled his back, lips furrowing over the little one's perfect set.

Yugi was open. Not physically more his heart, for lack of a better metaphor. The strangeness hanging over them suddenly felt clean and clear. Yami was sure beyond the mere trappings of his imagination he could feel real magic pulsating out of Yugi now, unhidden, coursing against Yami's own uncertain strain. Unobscured by careful strategies Yugi was cooing under him, sighing, arm round his shoulders, hands worrying his cheek bones with decades of familiarity. It was entirely a lover's touch the sort of careful stroke that came with experience, knowing, time… all of which Yugi lacked practically but held innately. He was receptive to Yami, he wanted Yami to see this and have access to him like this. It was flattering, a secret, which was so totally natural to Yami's inner Atemu. Ancient ideals of private ritual rites seemed the best comparison to Yami because kissing Yugi, having the bravery to do so without specific permission, was nothing if not overwhelming.

It was warrior's pride Yami felt when he pushed his weight into his knees in the grass and dug his fingers into Yugi's still unblemished clothing. They hadn't seemed to detach, to stop kissing, for long motions. Natural, timeless, sexuality radiated and the grove's atmosphere felt mellowed to the perfect temperature. The consistency of the sensation, the hum of the energies around them, fluctuated perfectly in sync with Yugi's magic and Yami's followed the beat more drum-like, pounding, than the high fluting kind of pitch he associated with the living flower he was crushing against his chest.

Yugi separated from Atreyu in that thought while still being totally aligned to him in every detail. The only difference was that Yugi, still just as much the fairy, the immortal, the mystery, was unfolded more totally as Yami's. Atreyu was unreachable, a far off star, Yugi was captured in his arms with no contrasting claim upon him. Yugi didn't belong to the unknown Jenzar Fraveous like Atreyu did. All his unknowable details and fixtures were no longer intimidating to Yami who felt he'd been given the right, the courage, to explore them without thinking of them as someone else's kingdom.

Yugi's phone twinkled in his bag, buzzing bee vibrations with a shrill little lyre like ringtone, association to Yugi made anything more naturally supernatural to Yami who was himself very much the heroic Atemu in his own heart right now.

"Should you answer that?" Yami whispered, hand cradling Yugi's head like a newborn, fingers tangled thickly in the locks.

"I don't care." Yugi answered drawing him back stubbornly to drink from all the adoration Yami was pouring into him. Yugi clutched him close telling Yami, in not so many words, he was never allowed to leave.

The phone continued insistently, Yugi's heels twisted in the plush grass, Yami felt their lips slicken. Sounds of general chattering rose and fell along the nearby path outside the gully they were hidden in. All Yami heard was the birds shrill cries, the rustle of the maples and Yugi's sighs as his petite thumb worked the grove of Yami's jaw.

"Yugi?" A child cried uncertainly and spluttering Yugi disentangled his lips from Yami's.

His eyes were wide, startled, phone blaring beside them in the forgotten bag. Yami's captive fairy seemed off put by the presence of other humans, trapped, and swore laughing in a heap.

"Of all the luck!" He hissed in a giggling whisper.

"Yugi!" The child tried once more from the path. "Are you there?"

Yugi sighed, very gently placing his hands on Yami's shoulders to force the courageous prince back, beaming in that warm fire-side way as he fumbled for his things and straightened his ruffled hair called back to the path:

"Hey Mokie!" He was straining to contain his amusement. "Be there in a sec!"

"Who's that?" Yami whispered as Yugi fumbled, the pair of them still achingly close, knees between legs, chests by shoulders as Yugi slipped his shoes back on.

"A friend," Yugi sighed, "let's go say hello. We've been caught."

"Sure," Yami chuckled. He couldn't wipe the radiant smile off his face as he brushed himself off and gingerly assisted Yugi to his feet. The smaller threaded his arm through the crux of Yami's elbow and ducking under a maple branch lead them back to the path.

"Yugi!" The child cried, a teenager actually Yami realized, throwing himself into Yugi's arms which spread and enfolded round the poor urchin like wings.

"Hi Mokie," Yugi cooed, pressing the young man to his breast half motherly. "What are you doing here?"

"Seto finally agreed to take me," he bounced, "he said we should call you and see if you wanted to come too or meet up. You're always here so we thought you might be around already."

"Oh did he?" The young man smiled, knowing old eyes set in a sweet young face, as he glanced beyond the child thrown about his waist and brought Yami's attention to the tall man standing stifling a few feet off.

"What are you looking at?" Seto Kaiba grunted shamelessly, arms folded tight to his chest, as pieces fell together in Yami's mind. He had no doubt this was Seto Kaiba and he knew complicatedly from Yugi that they'd been followed somehow. "Who's he?"

"Mokuba," Yugi diverted pointedly, eyes flaring with cheek. "This is Yami, he's a friend of mine, Yami this is Mokuba Kaiba. He's awesome."

"Dame straight!" The teen asserted thrusting his hand out to Yami.

"Watch your mouth." Kaiba snapped over them at the young Mokuba while the boy and Yugi shared a little eye roll at his expense. "Yami who Motou?"

"You tell me!" Yugi laughed. "Your spy network's evidently the best in the country."

"Yami Sennen," the author intervened, he couldn't quite tell if they were arguing but he certainly didn't want to be the cause of some friction between such an old, critical, friend of Yugi's and Joey's potential boyfriend. Atemu's spirit was, after all, still keeping him courageous. "I'm Joey's friend."

"I don't believe it." He scoffed tartly shaking his head rather pointedly at Yugi who did little else but stick his tongue out beaming with satisfaction.

"Curiosity satisfied now?" The young man teased.

"Yami Sennen?" Mokuba frowned. "Oh my god! Do you write Trance?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "you read them?"

"I love them!" The teen cried joyously, rather distractingly, as Yami attempted to watch the little gestures and glances passing covertly between Yugi and Kaiba.

"I hate them." His elder brother shot back. "So do Yugi and Ryou."

"Shut up Kaiba." Yugi laughed dodging to Yami's fumbling glances. "Ignore him. He's on his period."

"Come have lunch with Mokuba and I," the man returned sharply, "and bring your boyfriend."

"Why?" Yugi propositioned.

"Oh please!" Mokuba cried bouncing on his heels. "That'd be so awesome!"

"You heard him." Kaiba gestured illustratively.

"Oh that's low!" He sighed chuckling. "Alright, fine, but only for Mokuba! Do you mind Yami?"

"No, not at all," he attempted to placate which didn't seem to be going very well given the frosty reception Kaiba insisted on dolling out. "Sounds great."

"Suck up." Kaiba scoffed turning on the trail. "Mokuba, Motou, let's go."

"Lord above," Yugi sighed shrugging off his backpack, "hold your horses you jack ass."

Bamboozled Yami was left blinking as Yugi drew his coat out of his satchel and wrapped it round his pert shoulders clipping the little gold clasps of the thick navy caplet. It was really quite regal with the faux fur neck and as Yugi slipped his hand through the slit in one side to grasp Mokuba's eager hand Yami was left wondering what exactly he had done to so offend Kaiba. Was he always like this? He had no memory of meeting him, still, even after seeing him now. Oh he had a natural burgeoning dislike for him swelling up given what a snide git Kaiba seemed to be but no memory of how he'd ever offended him. Lord help him if this bastard was so close to Yugi and Joey he couldn't get rid of the fucker. Kaiba was nothing if not rude as he turned, strode off ahead and Yami, lost for a reason, had to snort. What had he meant by saying Yugi, Ryou and himself despised Yami's work? Yugi had been very clear to say some of his friends loved the books and that he himself had never read them.

He supposed Yugi was right and he should ignore Kaiba's hazing. Perhaps he was just protective after a long friendship with Yugi which he must've held that dear. If Yami was Yugi's first partner it only made sense to be protective especially if Yugi, like the Kaibas from what Yami had heard, were fatherless orphans. He had always been very authoritative over Joey whose father might as well have been dead, he took pride in that, and Joey was quite attracted to having such an influence so it didn't appear unreasonable to him that Kaiba might follow suit in the same role over Yugi, Mokuba and perhaps Ryou? Then again Yugi was a creature who hardly needed any saving, no damsel in distress, and he had told Yami that it was he who lead their little trio of mystics during high school. Was that it? Was Kaiba worried Yugi might tell Yami about his own trifling's in the supernatural that he would rather keep private? God, who knew!

He felt very bad for thinking so, as he slung his arm carefully round Yugi's shoulders squeezing the plush fabric and thrusting his free hand into the pocket of his jeans, but there was something very pleasurable about the adventure of it. The mystery, this possibility, that all his dreams of Atemu had some vague connection to a supernatural reality made him feel bolstered and excited for the first time.

The open field by the lake was thick with daffodils where Yugi set them down. He and Mokuba claimed most of the blanket for themselves and distributed lashings of chocolate between each other merrily enough as the teenager hassled Yami with all number of questions about his favourite series ('of all time' apparently).

"Who's your favourite character?" Yami supposed which all but made Mokuba gush. The kid was really rather delightful. That or Yami was an egotist.

"Cobalt," Mokuba elaborated as if it were a given, and Kaiba grunted brushing himself off to leave for a stroll. "I love Atemu though and Trey's amazing, he kind of reminds me of Yugi, so…"

"Me too." Yami admitted, which the teen adored, flushing as Yugi twitched towards them curiously slinging his arm round Mokuba.

"I do?" He supposed oddly. "Why? Who's Trey?"

"Atreyu Damestaire. He's great," Mokuba chattered tumbling into a much more comprehensive explanation than Yami himself could offer finishing: "he's a Faen. The bad-est kicker of asses ever."

"A-huh," Yugi chuckled, "and I remind you of this guy why?"

"You carry the same sort of demeanour." Yami interrupted as Mokuba struggled for proper elaboration. "It's a compliment. He's very popular with the fans."

"Okay then," he shrugged easily but appeared hardly interested in the specifics glistening over the issue, "I can deal with that. So how's school runt?"

Yugi leant back into his arms under the caplet, which obscured them, and Mokuba fell back into his lap with a groan that stirred up Yugi's shimmering smile. Yami had the impression that the teenager could not have been safer at that moment and that Kaiba knew as much. Mokuba began to speak, very confessional, as Yugi must've oft given him permission to do and Yami took it as a cue to stretch his legs for a moment so the intimacy could develop. The poor kid's brother must've been busy. It must've been hard for him to get much attention entirely from Kaiba.

"I'll be back in a min," he departed to Yugi's grunt of acknowledgement as he smiled down into Mokuba's face.

When Yami took stride beside Kaiba in his circuit round the lake a strange sense overcame him. For a moment he could pretend he was in fact prancing beside Mr Darcy or some other equally disapproving Edwardian gentleman. Kaiba gave that vibe. His buttons were tight enough to make everything seem suit like and his disapproving frown gave Yami the impression of trying to appeal to the wealthy guardian of his intended. All the tall man needed was a top hat in these fields and Yami would be lost in the fantasy altogether. Not an unfamiliar idea for today.

"So you've known Yugi for a long time?" Yami tried casually.

"There's no point playing nice, we both know it," Kaiba grunted.

"I'm sorry?" He frowned. "Listen, I don't know what Joey told you but I've never seen you before in my life. So whatever you think I've done you must have me confused with someone."

Kaiba laughed, stalling in his step, shaking his head.

"You really want to play coy?" He snorted. "Fine. You're an even bigger dumbass than I expected."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Yami snapped tightly.

"Whatever," the man dismissed, "you have fun playing at house with Yugi."

"I'm not playing at anything," he grumbled sharply, he would've shouted but he was aware of how close Mokuba and Yugi were from them. "I don't care what your problem is with me but I'll have you know I rather adore Yugi."

Kaiba frowned all at once as if Yami had said something very funny, or mentally retarded, with his fists clenched and yet the author felt he'd also expressed something very bizarre to the man. Kaiba's frown worried his features solemnly, calculating the details of Yami's stubborn face and then, magically, his expression upturned into a smug, sneering, smirk.

"Really?" He sighed in amazement all that nastiness condensing to give the appearance of evaporating without ever really leaving. "Good for you. That's great."

Yami was flabbergasted. He was so brilliantly, joyous, snide at Yami's expense. Did Kaiba think of him as some playboy out to break Yugi's heart? How on earth would he ever get that impression? Had he passed some appropriation test to gauge him worthy of Yugi's love? Either way the wealthy gentleman thrust his hand out to Yami's for a belated shake the author had no choice but to receive gingerly.

"You know how these things are," Kaiba shrugged amusedly, "I have to give you a hard time."

"Right," Yami didn't believe a damn word of it. Kaiba loathed him. It radiated off the man in thick, nauseous waves, and Yami couldn't comprehend how Yugi could love such a foul creature. He was still Atemu in his heart, still courageous today, and he felt all the more suspicious as Kaiba gestured they had best return to the picnic with a cocking of his thumb and a more cordial voice.

Yugi shot Kaiba a glance that wavered between benevolent and dreadfully accusatory but the man took a seat by Yugi's side with that most contented smirk and Yugi's shoulders fell cautiously. On questioning inspection from his young lover Yami waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, forced a smile and took his own seat.

"Kaiba wasn't too hard on you was he?" Yugi asked as they followed the empty road back to the bus stop. Apparently still trying to discern exactly what had taken place between them. "He's a rude prick."

"It's alright," Yami retorted restlessly, Kaiba off put him. "He must just really care about you."

"Oh I don't know about that," the smaller supposed, "he assumes I can handle myself. I think he's just a busy body really. Doesn't understand why I'm dating now probably and rather than ask me about it he'd rather interrogate you."

"I don't know," he sighed. "He seems to think I insulted him once, or something, but I swear I've never met the jerk. It's kind of annoying. He relaxed a bit around me though after I told him that so maybe its water under the bridge."

"Kaiba builds moats for a living." Yugi joked drily. "I wouldn't count on it. Don't let it bother you anyway. I believe you. Whatever his problem is he'll get over it. Just let him beat you at a game of chess and he'll let it go. He's not one to admit he's wrong so if he's mixed you up with someone he'll never own up to it."

"So why are you friends again?" Yami chuckled.

"We're family." Yugi replied curtly. "If I make family then it's final. I stick with you no matter what. I might not always like Kaiba but I love him, after everything we went through, so he's family. That's all that matters. I don't have the choice of getting rid of him or turning my back on Ryou's crappy relationship as far as I'm concerned. Sucks but that's life."

"You're loyal," the author praised gently, hands in his pockets as Yugi threaded his arm through the crux of Yami's elbow.

When they came to a stop at the bright yellow pole, emblazoned with the time table panel for the buses, Yami took his time to take in the fresh air of their surroundings. Yugi, on the other hand, was much more transfixed by the moon hanging over head. He gave it a lover's smile and in the silence made the tiniest kissing motion with his lips that Yami could perceive and then became very embarrassed when he caught the author staring.

"I love the moon," Yugi muttered, "she's like a mother. I feel like she watches over me or at the very least she radiates energy I can sync with. When I feel bad usually there's no moon or if I'm sad and I look up to her she fills me with this soothing light and…" he blushed. "I don't know. She heals, she understands, she the same wavelength as me. Whatever spirit inhabits her, watches through her vantage point, knows who I am. So I try to pay her respect, show I love her and acknowledge her. It sounds stupid."

"No it doesn't." Yami insisted hooking his arm round Yugi's shoulders. "It sounds gorgeous. She's your… lighthouse? The point of reference for normalcy and goodness in the night. It makes sense to me. If I was young and scared and seeing demons or spirits I'd get attached to her too."

"She's…" the young man wanted to speak but appeared cautious of his wording. "I like to think she's mankind's guiding star. It's like how she controls the tides of the ocean and all its mystery around us. I think she controls, or influences, the tide of the Supernatural around us. She's misleading. I mean to the rest of the universe, looking in, she's just a rock circling our planet but from down here she's the brightest light, the secret star, in the sky. When I'm aware of the Supernatural it's like she's aware of me more and she says not to worry about it. That I'm just like all those strange creatures are, same substance, same origin, and we can be quite happy together under her. She's private. She's in the sky weather the sun's up or down if you look hard enough."

"You are magnificent." Yami cooed warmly a little overcome but his own romantic tendencies at the imagery. "I swear you elaborate things I couldn't put into words. I'm soglad you're telling me all this. I want to get it."

"Have to figure out where you fit in the universe." Yugi smiled. "You'll have some kind of purpose in the big picture. We'll have to figure out how we relate to each other on that."

"I can't wait." He promised. "I hope I've met you before in some other life time."

"Probably," the young man shrugged gently, "I tend to attract the same people back over and over again. I think they're the only ones who can stand me."

"You're addictive."

"You are a charmer." Yugi snorted cheekily rewarding Yami with a peck to the cheek as he forced himself onto his tiptoes.

Yami had never been of anything but sturdy health. It gave his mother great comfort and she put it down to his Egyptian heritage, via his father, claiming her Japanese family had always been rather frail. She appeared a little concerned at times that one day Yami's enduring body would give out, become Japanese in that sense, and cease to retain all the Egyptian he'd gained from his mysterious father. Yami had never worried actively and neither had his publisher.

"There are another few conventions that want to have you." His publisher insisted in the phone a day or two after his date with Yugi. "It'll be good for coverage."

"And fun," Yami supposed casually, "sounds good. When? Where?"

Really he was hardly involved. He was still daydreaming about Yugi, still amped up on new found confidence and security. He hadn't convinced Yugi to cross the threshold into his house yet nor had Yugi given Yami the pleasure of knowing at all where he lived but they were moving along very well he thought. It was all the more like Yugi, actually, to think of houses as almost sacred spaces. Entering Yami's, even with his permission, was a gesture with implications to Yugi and knowing where Yugi lived, again, was akin to being given the details of the specific location of a fairy grove. It was guarded knowledge to Yugi, implicit detail, and Yami could respect that given how magnificently, charmingly, mythical he found the young man's behaviour. It was a novelty to have such eccentric anachronisms.

Feeling like a celebrity for a moment however did have its swaying advantages that drew Yami's attention. He loved knowing he wasn't writing to a faceless nothingness but to people. Cup in hand, fresh and warm, he made his way from the kitchen back to the lounge with the phone cradled to his ear.

"So gjdfnk-" Yami swayed a little as the voice faded in and out "-Yami? You still there?"

"Huh?" He stabled himself. "Yeah! No, go on?"

"Right-"

Yami felt queasy. Hit by a wave of something hot and uncomfortable that infiltrated his temples to his gut. It was a sickening sensation, more between his ears than in his belly, made his feet unsteady.

He stumbled, fading sickly, gripped the couched…

Dropped the phone, watched it spread over the carpet out of view, terrified to break the mug…

He was sure he was going to throw up, he felt tugged in funny directions, painfully sea sick…

"ATEMU"

He felt the word more than he heard it.

The mug fell, his publisher raved in low static out of range across the room, and Yami hit the floor.

"Atemu!" Amar shook him brutishly.

Coughing, sickened, Atemu turned in his grip, struggling free, to lurch spluttering over the bare earth. He felt the direst urge to vomit but found no bile and grabbing him by the shoulders Amar Seirramoura and another hauled Atemu to his feet between them.

"Atemu Pheramora?" The second Reaper ruffled him, patting his cheek, "you there brother?"

"What…?" Atemu groaned. "What happened?"

"Atemu Pheramora this is Seviticus Prodius," Amar explained more than introduced, "he's the Champion of the second Earth Faen Vegas like I am the Champion of the first Earth Faen Denn-Elec."

"What's going on?" Atemu mumbled, trying to drag together his flustered energy and pump it into his form. He felt dragged, broken, by the rough summons.

"I'm sorry Atemu," Amar apologised ever-green eyes gentle, "we had the Gate Keeper force your phase in. We need your help brother. You have to gather yourself."

"Atreyu Damestaire, third Faen of Earth, is missing." Seviticus explained briskly. "He hasn't phased out from his last crossing of the Veil four hours ago. We need to retrieve him. His star is fading, the Gate Keeper is losing his signal, and as we have no idea where Jenzar Fraveous is you need to act as his Champion Reaper in aiding us to find him before damage is done."

"Trey's missing?" Atemu mumbled.

The cold of it cut through him. Panic swelled him to alertness, returning function to his spine and activation to his core, his soul, which resumed pumping him with warrior's magic. It was an icy spray of an idea and the sombre expressions of Amar and Seviticus, both Champion Reapers, both with Faens of their own did nothing to soothe him.

"Where?" He ruffled rounding on Amar's hard set face between thick crimson curls. "Where was he lost?"

"A Transient Space," Amar explained, "we have to go there now and scour it."

"Then let's!" Atemu urged roughly.

Transient Spaces were In-Between Places. Gaps, passage ways, between different realms of the Supernatural or between one side of the Veil or the other and as such were pocket dimensions that could be enormous or closeted. They hurried and Atemu had little chance to ask or observe much through the haze of mounting anticipation.

Amar and Seviticus were both very proud creatures. They seemed almost parodies of each other. Amar's thick red curls hit between his shoulder blades, Seviticus locks were shades of emerald brushing his neck, much the same colour of Amar's eyes, while his own were dark and chocolaty. The pair of them were tall and imposing, as wiry and intrinsically strong as Atemu had come to expect of Champions. They held none of the fragile, delicate, nature of the Faens Atemu had glanced but they were more regal than bullish in their valiant gaits. They were the front line soldiers, the generals, the Knights, the Prince Charming's that men like Yami could never be and Reapers like Atemu were helpless to idolise.

This wasn't a matter of pageantry however. Earth had only three Faens to protect the normalcy of nine billion souls. If something Atemu couldn't imagine had happened to Atreyu, without Jenzar's protection, the Veil could be in danger. Faens were powerful, souls did not die, but that didn't mean that order couldn't be upheaved. The Seers might make it impossible for Atreyu to cross back into the Natural World, back into his body, or else plunder his ever perpetuating energy core which was indeed his soul. Faen souls produced endless energy, magic, which gave them boundless capabilities but they were fragile to certain attacks and instabilities. Atemu knew few of the details but he knew the danger to general order was extreme. They couldn't lose a Faen any more than they could afford to lose a Champion like Jenzar for long.

"By the Keeper it's massive!" Seviticus swore fervently once their bypass from the Hive opened up onto the In-Between Space where Atreyu was to be found.

It was. The situation felt increasingly bleak under the enormity of the sky sprawled over Atemu. Starry night sky cut indigo patches through a blue day sky in a mishmash of textures over their head. Around them, from their vantage: vast jungle, towering Mesoamerican temples by Yami's reckoning and distant snow etched mountains interacted confused. The Space felt expansive and detailed. Atemu could vaguely feel the complexity of the energy trails running through this vast pocket of space where he was convinced two or more Supernatural realms intersected.

"Never mind that," Amar urged, "we start searching."

"How?" Atemu blanked horribly. "It's huge!"

"Leave me the jungle, Sev the temples, Atemu scour the mountains." How he could be so simply cut on it, so easily tear up this expanse, was very like Amar.

"There could be lower levels underground or more in the heavens," Seviticus mumbled darkly, "it could take us days."

"We don't have days, we have hours, Atreyu's star is fading so we begin." Amar ordered stoutly of the Champion. "Don't be a coward Sev. You've achieved more in worse. We're only wasting time here!"

"True," Seviticus consented in surrender, Amar seemed unlikely to listen to anything else. "I'll alert you if I discover anything."

"Go." The redhead snapped and driven on the Champion slipped, bounded, from the edge of the mountain fearlessly to slip off into the darkness of the foliage below. A hundred foot drop neither scared nor damaged a Champion. "You too Atemu."

"But-"

"We've no time for beginner's self-doubt." Amar snapped. "Jenzar and the other Champions are unavailable. Go."

"If I find something?" He fumbled.

"Call, I'll hear you," the Champion assured knowingly. "Don't do anything foolish. Be careful."

"Right!"

The snow didn't cling to him. Atemu didn't sink into it he bounded over it. It took magic to keep himself above its clutches just like it took magic to make himself move so fast, a procession of cursory leaps across the landscape, but it was unconscious and easy to move through his astral form without actual spells. Atemu's core was searing with anxiety. Rippling with nausea he would have rather faced a Seer than feel so useless fumbling over this landscape unsure how to proceed or what to seek. He was lost, childishly confused, thoughtless. He wasn't prepared for this.

Atemu's footing gave out during his landing, careless, and he tumbled across the thick blanket of snow onto his stomach slipping four or ten feet down the slope. Digging his boots into the plush he caught himself, the cold submerging up around him abruptly stripping him to frigid shivers. He forced himself back onto his feet, trudging, he should've thought to use magic to steady himself instinctively but he was being negligent.

He stilled, eyes scanning the vast empty slope. He had no concept of how he was to find Atreyu here. Where had Atreyu been going? What had been his purpose? I couldn't have been a hunt or Atemu would've been escorting him. The Gate Keeper wouldn't feel that Atreyu needed a constant novice body guard and now Atemu was beginning to question if he was any use at all to anyone. His fist hit the snow, ice scrapping his knuckles angrily and frustrated he fought back a howl.

He could be here for fruitless hours. He could miss something, some clue, that Jenzar or some other Champion would spot. He was a nuisance to Atreyu and now Amar and Seviticus trying to find the Faen he had been charged with protecting. It went dreadfully deeper than that though. If Yami hadn't published the damn books, at least according to the figures of his dreams whether they be real or not, then Atreyu wouldn't need extra protection from enemies who now knew he was vulnerable. Whatever was going on between them, whatever aloofness on Atreyu's part, Atemu couldn't consort the image of Atreyu disappearing. It would be to kill childhood, imagination, fantasy… This was Atemu's fault…

Atemu was a successful Reaper. He had done so much these last four years, felt so competent, but as a Specialist he consistently failed to meet his obligations. He couldn't unlock the full memories of his past lives or the powers of his core. He couldn't protect a Fean, he couldn't be trusted to keep their secrets, and he couldn't even find the trail of some monster that might've spirited Atreyu away. He was useless.

He clutched himself, rippling with self-loathing, and was sure he would cry. Even that was shameful. Reapers did not give up and Atreyu was so hateful of the ridiculous impracticality of tears Atemu sunk further into warrior's regret. What should he do? How did he repent? He would never forgive himself if Atreyu was lost, if he had to explain himself to Jenzar when the rightful Champion finally emerged…

Think! He urged himself scouring the stark page like expanse of the slope eyes hot and burning. There had to be a faster way of searching. There had to be more he could do.

Atreyu always knew what was wrong, always saw through illusion to truth, Atreyu always knew where the wound was…

It occurred to Atemu in his frustration that the trails of energy Atreyu heeded to learn the secrets of a realm were open to him too. If he listened well enough, found the signs, he could perhaps discover more. He tried to quell his pounding heart, throat thick, humbled by his own hatred as he shook into the cold. The sky was painfully blue over him and pressing his lids shut he tried to push his anxiety into a box. He tried to weaponize it.

"Oh please…" he whispered. "Please Trey…Where are you? Please…"

He shook, choking over himself, pressing harder at the desperation of the thoughts. Slipping into Yami.

"Where are you? God, please Trey, tell me where you are?" He begged. It was futile he was convinced. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… this is all my fault…"

He inhaled sharply, rattled, clutching his fists as he gazed into the darkness of his own lids.

The wound in his chest which was his overwrought heart seemed to freeze him when his shaking became too great and exhaling Atemu found-

"God!"

His eyes tore open, spluttering, and Atemu was aware of it: the currents of magic around him. They were exposed, stripped back like exposed circuitry, fading in and out of focus as he wrought himself to see them in the air. He twisted, knees deep in the snow, and knew he could feel Atreyu's sweet, tender, pulse somewhere nearby. He could half hear it on the wind, distant but fluting. Like a pipe the sound was high and thin breaking but continuous as was the thrum of Atreyu's warmth somewhere reachable.

Atemu fumbled. He was sure it was coming from deeper beneath his feet. Where? In the mountain he realized! Digging on his hands and knees he fumbled hopelessly back up the slope the summit. There must be a way into the mountain! He was so unthinking that his magic forced him back up above the encapsulating snow so he could run only by sheer force of will which drove him on.

He found it before he was really aware he was running through the craggy slit in the face of the mountain. It was pitch dark, heat intensifying in the air, but Atemu's magic driven to keep running gave him enough light to see where he was going or perhaps it was Atreyu's magic? Atemu could hear it, could feel it, coursing above his own panting, above his throbbing heartbeat, above all else.

The tunnels were steep, cut roughly into the mountain, catacomb like products of some foul combination of beasts Atemu sensed from their imprints in the constructions. The deeper he ran the more the outside world sunk away as he dove into the depths of gloomy hell.

"Hahahahah!"

It was a lilting, over joyed, sound that wafted up through the tunnels as they split open to become columned walkways within a vast in chasm. Atemu couldn't bring himself to stop running, Atreyu's energy was strong here, the flute was loud in his ears, his heart was tight.

"They're real!" The voice cried again. "I didn't think they were real!"

Atemu was closer. Light was apparent now, wafting out between the columns and across the various levels he could see along the walls of the circular interior of the mountain. Atemu was forced to halt, wrenched himself to stop, to stop breathing, and move swiftly but silently crouching in the half cast shadows.

"A Faen…" the second voice was enamoured at the prospect. It was a kind of childish fancy that over took it with pleasure. "I thought they were just myths..."

"What a day!" The first voice cooed ecstatically as Atemu rounded the bend from the darkness into the light of this level.

He fell back, obscured, and the beings failed to notice his misstep in their euphoria. There were only two of them. Black skinned, bony, with beaming smiles as between them they held Atreyu in what seemed to Atemu to be an atrium. The structure was inbuilt, well paved, a rectangular pool perhaps waist deep but Atemu doubted it was filled with water of a natural sort.

One creature held Atreyu under the armpits with its wiry hands while the other held his legs in one arm pressed to its waist. Between them Atreyu sagged, eyes slit like and barely conscious, his lower torso and hips just submerged beneath the surface of the pool. The water was glowing over his navel, writhing with worm like strands of glorious light that thickened and crystallised.

Atemu felt like to wretch.

One creature, the one with its back to Atem, holding Atreyu's legs hefted the crystalline ball newly formed from the water and held it pulsating in its fingers.

"Endless self-perpetuating magic!" It purred. "A living star!"

They were draining him, Atemu fathomed, something which they could never achieve given how Atreyu's core would never give out creating new magic but something which, if the Faen was left here, could weaken him to the point of imprisonment for centuries.

It was sickening, sacrilegious, defiling in the worst possible way. Atemu had images of parasites eating corpses and likened them to these disrespectful, insidious, monstrosities who at once filled him with rage. How dare they? They were so overjoyed with their catch, making Atreyu a captured mermaid, a gutted fish that Atemu was sure he'd burst with hatred.

"SMITE!" It came rippling out of Atemu before he'd fully exposed himself, in a voice that hardly seemed his own, and shrieking the creatures dropped Atreyu into the pool and scrambled under the holy fire which seared them.

Atemu was pulsating with anger when bounded over the edge of the pavement, sloshing into the pool, throwing himself in arms and all without any thoughtful concern for the effect the cursed water might have on him. His arms fastened round Atreyu, clutching the petite form to his chest, heaving his head back above the surface. The Faen moaned, lulling against him, fingers struggling to weakly grope at him.

"Atemu…" He whispered, deathly quiet, sounding almost fevered and despite the pull that seemed quicksand like through Atemu's legs he struggled to drag them back to the edge of the pool.

It was merciful that it was not any deeper or Atemu wouldn't have had the strength to heave Atreyu gingerly over the paved side and lay him soaking on the tiles, sprawled panting, as Atemu hefted himself back up onto solid ground. He fell to his hands and knees, drained no doubt from the same energy sapping pull of the enchanted water.

"Temu…" Atreyu sighed, fingers extending, he was weak but he found enough power to stretch his quaking fingers over Atemu's face.

"I'm here," Atemu swore reverently, forcing himself to lean into one arm as he pressed Atreyu's palm to his lips with his own and kissed it desperately. "You're safe."

"Mar…" He groaned and still heaving Atemu became very aware of the compounding shrieking that was filling the chasm.

The creatures who'd stolen Atreyu were no doubt seared to death, crumbled to ash under Atemu's righteous fury, but their fellows had heard the alarm and were now shrieking amongst the levels. There must've been thousands of them given the intense layers of the echo and weak as he was Atemu was well aware he couldn't fight all of them off.

"Mar…" Atreyu insisted, hair clinging wetly to his face, too weak to move as his arm sagged in Atemu's clasp.

"Right," Atemu blinked haggardly. They needed Amar and Seviticus. They needed allies. It was a brilliant idea but Atemu hardly noticed it when he cried low but pointedly: "AMAR SEIRRAMOURA"

The name had become a spell, tied irrevocably to the Champion, and he became aware that this was what Amar must've meant by calling on him. His magic had done most of the work by instinct and weak as he was Atemu's will was still desperately charged to imbue the spell with intention.

The air rippled, lighting crackled from nothingness, and Amar lurched into being. He pivoted, a little shaken, but visibly recovered with a Champion's experience. Whistling through his lips Amar strode to them, hooked his arms under Atreyu and effortlessly lifted the Faen up to his chest cradling the star like a bride.

Seviticus Prodius had heard the summon as well evidently given how, not a moment too soon, he was above Atemu hefting the Reaper onto his feet throwing Atemu's arm over his shoulder to hold him upright.

"They are many of them," Seviticus declared to Amar, "the mountain's writhing with infestation."

"It's not our place to destroy them." The vermillion warrior grumbled unhappily. "It'll cause a festering wound if we wipe them all out. We should retreat. We have Atreyu."

"Then we leave," the Champion concurred clutching Atemu close like a brother when the Reaper could not stand himself, "I'll meet you at the Hive."

"Travel safe!" Amar ordered rippling right back out of being.

1 Oh yes, you got kisses this chapter~ Soak em up!

2 So Kaiba's evidently fascinated with Yugi's love life. Personally I love writing Kaiba. Now what Kaiba knows and if he knows everything that's going on is something for you lovelies to consider.

3 Mokuba's a teenager in this. Basically just because if Yugi and Kaiba are out of high school then he'd be a little older than he is in the series.

4 What? Yami fainted? Oh no! What does it mean? Is he totally losing it or is this the disastrous nail in the coffin on the matter of the realness of his dreams?

5 Like I hinted to one reviewer last time: there are only three Faens living on Earth (which is part of what makes it easy for them not to know very much about each other for security reasons). Those Faens again are: Denn-Elec Flennous (Champion- Amar Seirramoura), Vegas Helldreem (Champion- Seviticus Prodius) and our favorite Atreyu Damestaire (Champion- Jenzar Fraveous). Just something for you theorising to consider because I promise there are only three Faens.

6 Worth noting perhaps is that Yami is feeling more like Atemu and Atemu at times is feeling more like Yami. They are technically the same person but they're overlapping much more now. Alter-ego and Ego condensing go!