Disclaimer. Yu-Gi-Oh! does not belong to me. It belongs to Kazuki Takahashi and crew. Some characters will be made up by me. Please ask if you want to use them.
(Please read my note in the comments section. It is important.)
MARCH 14 2018 UPDATE! CHAPTER IS COMPLETED FOR NOW! MIGHT ADD MORE? PLEASE ENJOY!
So chapter three will not be rewritten because it's fine. But this chapter will be dedicated to Bakura. Aknadin's plan hasn't been discovered in the rewritten chapters as of yet. Evil Bakura will not arise until much later, as in the original chapters he came in too fast. Makes sense?
The old lady that had rescued Bakura was in her little hut, nervously twitching fingers clenching the hem of her dress. Silence was all around her, save for a slight breath of sand blown in through the half sunken door every once and awhile.
Her green eyes were narrowed.
A few minutes passed before she stood up suddenly, racing out the door into the blinding desert sun. Searching for Bakura, she sighed in defeat as there was no sign of him.
'I shouldn't have sent a young boy like him out into the possibly deathly desert. Too late now...'
She went back into her hut, grumbling.
The mentioned young white haired boy sneezed, rubbing his nose. "Huh. Wonder where that came from." Walking along, he jumped a bit when his foot stepped on something rough. He looked down, spotting a relatively long stick. Bakura grinned.
"Lucky."
Bending down, he picked it up, using some force on it to see if it was sturdy. It did not break. Bakura stuck the stick in the sand, and leaned against it. A small crack was heard but didn't damage the stick.
Nodding, Bakura kept trekking, the stick now becoming his cane of sorts. The whisp that had followed him all the way from the ruined village was still with him, not interested in anything but the boy. Sliding down a sand dune, Bakura shielded his eyes from the blazing sun, seeing a faint image in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, Bakura could make out a tree, and a large pond beside it.
"Oh!" He exclaimed.
"An oasis!" Running towards it, he discarded the fact that the oasis shimmered and faded a bit. The cloud of smoke stayed where it was. Dropping the stick, Bakura jumped into the 'water', only to get a mouthful of sand. Spitting out the grainy hot sand, Bakura shook sand out of his hair, a bit embarrassed.
'A mirage huh...'
Coughing as gritty sand scratched his throat, Bakura stood up, trying to smooth the wrinkles in his clothes. Retrieving his walking stick, Bakura walked up to the top of a sand dune, turning his head to look at the whisp that floated to his side.
A dry hacking screech sounded above him. Glancing upwards, Bakura saw a large broad winged black vulture circling in the sky. Tensing, the boy slid down the dune, walking briskly. The vulture followed him. Growing nervous, Bakura started running, sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to run in the sand.
Screeching again, the vulture tucked in it's wings and dove, gray bloodied beak reaching for him. Bakura whipped around, swinging the stick, and the vulture screeched in pain as Bakura managed to jab one of it's eyes out.
Grossed out, Bakura shook the bloodied eye off the stick.
A hair raising cry sounded from the vulture. The air filled with deafening beats of wings, as an entire flock of vultures descended upon the unfortunate boy.
Bakura screamed as numerous pecks and sharp scavenging claws felt like they were going to rend him to pieces. The whisp circled above him, it's form glowing an angry dark blue. Bakura knelt in the sand, covering his head with battered and bleeding arms.
All of a sudden, the sky grew dark, and an enormous pulse of power emanated from the whisp. Dying shrieks filled the air as vultures were blown to dust from the cold chaotic pulse. The white haired boy didn't look up to see what was going on.
The sand around him turned red with his blood.
The ball of smoke stopped glowing, and returned to the boy, hovering beside his torn form. Lifting his head up, Bakura stared at the whisp with tears in his eyes.
"W-what are y-you..." He croaked.
Unfortunately, the whisp could not answer him. It floated closer to him but Bakura scrambled back.
"S-stay away from me! I've been alright with you until now...but that was pure chaos! Are you going to kill me next? Huh? Are you?!"
The whisp stopped, and Bakura took this as an opportunity to scramble away even more, leaving trails of blood in the sand. Crawling until he could crawl no more, Bakura curled up into a ball, shivering.
The sun was merely a speck in the sky, and a cold wind blew over the shifting sands of the desert. Closing his bloodshot eyes, the boy fell into unconsciousness.
(A day later...)
A loud whinny shook Bakura awake. His whole body felt cramped and stiff. With his blurry vision, Bakura couldn't make out what was going on. But based on what he could feel, he was on the back of a horse. His throat was parched, and he coughed.
The person in front of him turned his head, and pulled on the reigns, stopping the horse. The sound of a few nickers were heard.
Bakura froze.
More than one person was here.
The sound of something opening was heard, and suddenly, cold water was splashed over him. Gasping from the freezing temperature, Bakura flailed, falling off the horse and landing on hard rocky sand.
The person who had him on the horse walked near his head, prodding him with a foot. Bakura groaned in protest. Voices were heard, but Bakura could barely hear them.
There was no sign of the whisp. Bakura laughed to himself. 'I suppose it would only save me so many times before it got tired of my uselessness...' He grunted in surprise as he was picked up roughly and thrown onto the back of a horse.
The man from before got on, and they started riding again. Bakura tried to roll off, he didn't want to be with them anymore. But to his dismay he found that his wrists were tied behind his back.
'When did they do that?' He wondered.
Straining against the rough ropes, Bakura sighed as his struggle yielded no results. One of the other people in the group turned his head, glaring at Bakura.
"You try that again and you'll find the sharp end of my spear in your gut."
The white haired boy noticed with alarm the weapon the man spoke of. It was a smooth mahogany brown, with a sharp silver arrowhead shape at the tip. Two little gold curves were at the base, one on each side of the pointed tip.
Gaining the courage to speak, Bakura asked, "Where did you find that spear? It looks rather fancy."
The man blinked. "Heh. It talks." The other men laughed, except for the one currently carrying Bakura.
The man spoke, with a somewhat rough but commanding tone.
"Answer his question. We have nothing to hide from him."
The spearman frowned. "But sir...he might be with them! He could be a spy!"
Bakura guessed the man in front of him was their leader. Turning as best he could, he looked up at him.
"I have no idea what you people are talking about but I'm not a part of any group. I've always been alone."
The leader didn't look at him.
"Silence you." Was all he said.
Bakura obeyed.
Some snickers from the group.
The spearman took a long look at the captive boy before speaking. "You want to know where I got this?"
Bakura nodded.
A pause.
Undoing the straps binding the spear, he lifted it up and twirled it, the silver arrowhead shape catching rays of the sun.
"Well...we stole it! You see, we're bandits. We take what we like and go wherever we want. This particular spear belonged to a long deceased royal guardsman."
Bakura gasped. "You're more than bandits then! You are tomb robbers!"
The spearman shrugged. "Yeah. You could say that..."
Bakura squinted at the man, a disapproving look on his face. Growing annoyed, the man pointed 'his' spear at Bakura.
"Stop that. What's that face for?"
Bakura refused to answer, turning his head away to look behind the horse he was on, seeing the vast expanse of semi desert. Rocks were all over the place, and more rough stone cliffs were all around. Blanching for a second, Bakura looked around startled.
Cliff surrounded them on every side, the only side not a cliff was the way they came.
From a bird's eye view, they were in a canyon, with dusty sand and steep rock walls raising up from the tops of the cliff. Bakura grew nervous. "Where are you taking me?"
The leader spoke this time. "It's not where we're taking you, it's where we are going. Now be silent or I shall cut off your tongue."
Bakura quieted down, getting a sense of a bad omen from the quivering air.