Okay... it's been what...three months since I updated this story...I"M SO SORRY! I honestly had this chapter planned out, but I had major block for this chap, writing wise.
Also fo those of you who haven't been up to date with my profile, I've been on Vacation in Florida, went to the Outakon convention, my family and i moved to Bel Air and mvoed my gransparents to baltimore and I just started college this week, so yeah NO TIME! NO INTERNET (or if i did it was on and off) and a bunch of other stuff.
I also have a new editing policy because i hate grammatical issues with my fics and because my good friend Zephyra Muoto is awesome!
But the good thing about no internet: plenty of time to write and work on fanfics thus the inspiration and creation of this chapter! Woohoo! Good news I have the next chapters all planned out and I'm working on the next chapter of DR and the next chapter of AIEW.
So yeah, i apologize for the insane wait, I will do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again...also please see my profile about my schedule story wise while I'm in college.
As always read, review, comment, critique, ask questions and enjoy!
Dedication: Chicary for being an awesome beta! Special thanks to Zephyra Mouto for kicking my ass in gear and reminding me to sit down, edit my stuff and make it the best it can be no matter how long it takes.
Disclaimer: Yugioh and all its characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. I own none, any reference to the Hunch Back of Notre Dame belong to Hugo who wrote the novel and the play, and Disney owns any references to the movie.
Warning: Slight child abuse, mentions of prostitution, drugs, etc. Religious themes (mildly-so for all you non-religious fans out there DON'T PANICK. I'm sticking with Hugo's original theme, just like i said in chapter one.
Chapter Four: Bells
The pearly dawn rose over the city of Paris, dying the violet and reds a pale lavender, then a shiny blue. The sun rose to the trembling echo of the bells of Notre Dame; the deep round dongs vibrated throughout the city, letting the world know it was time to rise for the new day. Everyday the city woke to the loud, low beauty of Emanuel in the south tower and the hallow bellow of the four conjoining bells. All completely oblivious, except for a select few, to the secret hidden within the bell towers.
The secret of the bell ringer.
Emanuel, the largest of all carillons, stood huge and grand at the top of the South Bell Tower while the remaining four swing-chimed bells filled the North. Emanuel remained silent, ringing only to alert the masses for Sunday, but the four remaining brass bells shimmered, waiting to be rung to alert the world that the time for festivals had come. An enormous oak wood frame supported the bells made of triangles and criss-crosses of wooden beams. Different levels were separated by large platforms blocked by wooden gates for safety. Rickety stairs led to the top of the tower where the bells waited to be rung. Support beams stretched across between stairs and platforms. The entire structure vibrated with the force of the four of the five bells ringing voluminously in the North Tower.
Two enormous Tracy windows embedded each tower wall. Castle roofs framed with flamboyant arches crowned the top of each tower. At the base of the two towers stood the grand flying buttresses of the Gallerie de Chimeries, which rimmed off the entire church like a giant rectangular-shaped labyrinth. Massive stone gryphons and flamboyant gargoyles lined the corners of the Gallerie overlooking the city. Others with long necks stretched like orderly soldiers beneath the buttresses, spitting water from their mouths. Other long-necked gargoyles formed a staircase, jutting from the pointed spires in the manner befitting a stunning Gothic Cathedral. Pigeons and doves exploded from within the walls as the bells between the two towers began to ring.
The entire rectangle and the vaulted roofs of the church behind it was Ryou Glory's playground.
His home.
His Sanctuary.
Following his morning routine, he climbed to the tops of the stairs, smiling at each enormous brass bell. He smirked when he reached the top of the rickety stairs and raced across the platform. He leapt elegantly from the railing and grabbed the rope. He let his weight swing him across and pull on the pulley, ringing the first bell. A loud, low echo filled the room with a roaring chime. Once that was done, he kicked the side of the second bell, than lowered himself on the rope. He swung himself back and forth on the rope until he could reach one of the beams. Once he had it tightly in his grasp, he released the rope and swung himself on top of the beam. He raced across the beam and grabbed the second rope, pulling hard and letting his weight do the rest. The second bell swung proudly, filling the room with music.
Again Ryou sprang from the rope, this time, landing on another platform. He wove through the wooden frame, perfectly balanced even as the rest of the oak frame shook from the massive force of the bells. With an elegant leap onto the next platform, he climbed up until he found the third rope and reached for it. Once he had a firm grip, he released his hold on the wooden frame and let himself swing across to the other-side, pulling hard. The bell screeched each swing, causing the hammers to slam against the inside of the bell while his weight gave it just enough swing to create its own music.
Finally, the fourth bell was alive and ringing; the entire tower shook with the force of the volume. Ryou jumped from platform to platform, swung from rope to rope, clenching, gripping and swinging from each wooden beams and rope to another. Leather gloves shielded his hands from burns and splinters while strengthening his grip.
Just for fun, he watched as one rope swung by and waited for the exact moment. Once it was close enough, he leapt onto the banister. With an elegant dive, he grabbed the rope again and, this time, swung on it a few times before letting go and gracefully landing on the floor of the tower in a crouch-position. White birds scattered as he landed, filling the air with feathers.
Once far enough from the voluminous chimes and in the safety of the pallets of the stone gallery, he removed the thick clumps of cotton stuffed in his ears. Though still loud, the rolling chimes of the bells were gentle enough for him to listen without deafening his ears. It was years before he was old enough to ring the bells on his own, but ever since infancy, Yugi had stuffed his ears with cotton when the bells rung, determined to protect his hearing. Like all beautiful things, the brass bells came with a harmful aspect and Ryou loved the music of the bells far too much to risk becoming deaf forever.
Pearly rays of light flooded through the openings of the buttresses as he approached the stone railings. He leapt on top of the railings and climbed on one of the gargoyles. He lay on his stomach over the gargoyle's back; the chilly air blowing his shiny, silvery hair backwards. Mardi Gras had come late this year and the air, though chilled, carried the soft warmth of the approaching spring.
He looked down with excitement as the venders set up for the final day of the Mardi Gras Celebration. Tents, streamers and banners of various materials in shinning colors of royal purples, vibrant greens and gold were everywhere. Poles stood tall and proud, lined with viridian, violet, and ocher ribbons. Entertainers hung curtains from stages and gathered instruments towards the enormous center stage where entertainment performances were to take place. Early risers flocked the streets, dressed in feathered and jeweled masks and flamboyant costumes extravagated with feathers and multiple beaded necklaces. Crowds already began forming around the courtyard before the church, wanting to arrive early for the festival.
A pretty white dove perched in front of him, gazing at him with curious eyes and brushing against him.
"Hmm. Nice to see you too." Ryou smiled, stroking the bird's back with no fear of falling off the gargoyle. "Are you all ready for the festival?" He asked the other birds who cooed and flapped their wings in response.
He flashed them a bright smile before gently scooping the dove into his hand. He pushed himself off his stomach, rolled over and slid down the gargoyle's back, back to the Cathedral. "Well then what are you all waiting for, go! Hurry or you'll miss all the fun." He encouraged, opening his palm and throwing them into the air to free the dove. The other birds followed the dove's example, some of them brushing against him as they flapped their wings. He laughed exuberantly as he was suddenly surrounded by a shower of wings. When the wave of birds departed into the sky, he smiled and looked down at himself. Feathers clung to his clothes and he brushed them off as more birds fled the stone towers of the castle.
"Beat it, you rats with wings!" Ryou jumped and turned around just in time to see a flock of pigeons flying in circles around a slivery-black winged figure. Hands thrashed everywhere as he tried to shoo the birds away from him. He growled in anger as a pile of old feathers that had been accumulating over the years fell on top of him as the birds retreated.
Exhausted from thrashing, the Grigori eventually tired himself out and fell off the banister, landing in a heap of feathers and his own wings. Unable to resist the humor at his guardian's truly pathetic appearance, Ryou burst out laughing.
"Oh shut up, Ryou." The crimson-eyed Grigori snorted.
"Forgive me Yami, but I couldn't help it." Ryou failed to apologize through his fit of giggles.
The Grigori pouted and climbed to his feet, flexing his back and wings to work out the joints. He shook himself to get rid of as many feathers as he could but the fibers stubbornly stayed in place. "There are too many birds in this place! If they're not nesting in my things, they're shedding feathers everywhere!"
"Well that's what you get for leaving your things outside, love." A boyish voice interrupted. The two looked up to the source of the voice. They found a smaller Grigori lying on his stomach on a low-wooden platform with his face in his hands. "This is God's way of telling you to listen to me next time."
Ryou chuckled and left his guardians to their spats while he strolled through the Gallery and up the staircase to the stone room that served as his bedroom. It hadn't changed much over the years save for the blankets and pillows. The desk in the corner filled with books from the church library. Across the room stood a large wardrobe, next to it hung a large broken glass fragment he'd turned into a mirror. Blankets, covered the windows to block out the cold air, but for the most part, the room simply served as a place where Ryou slept and kept his clothes.
He quietly stripped the feather-covered clothes and replaced them with a long-sleeved white shirt, tan pants, a dark green tunic of warm wool, and his leather boots. He caught his reflection in the mirror, grabbed a brush off the vanity, and set to work on untangling his long mane of pale hair.
Adolescence had been kinder to him then most: constant sunlight and the open air brightened his hair to a glossy starry-white, which fell into a thick mane down his back, the bangs curling around his forehead. The pallor of his skin faded to a rich ivory, smooth and absent of any imperfections. His features had sharpened a great deal as he'd grown taller, but he still carried the aura of femme fatal softness. His height perfectly proportioned his body, which had grown lean and strong from the constant gymnastics throughout the church, giving him the physical fitness of youth and the flexibility of an acrobat.
But most glorious of all were his eyes; nineteen years of which had matured them to perfection. Flawlessly rounded, but arched at the corners, they were a brilliant chocolate but the pallor of his hair and skin darkened them so they appeared almost black. The twin orbs radiated warmth and light. Without even trying, those warm eyes could attract even the hardest of hearts. Perhaps they were a curse, perhaps a blessing, he never knew.
His guardians called him an angel. His master, the Arch Bishop Marik, said they were a test. He was beautiful and he knew it, and it was for that reason that he hated what he saw in the mirror. He'd hoped the years would toughen him up, that his more masculine qualities would appear. He was strong but he did not look it. At first glance, he looked like a woman, a beauty who would tempt those around him to sin. It was no wonder people avoided him. They saw him as a demon or a succubus, a creature that sparked unnatural envy in woman and undesired lust in men.
He was a living temptation.
He punched the glass hard, but not strong enough to break it. "Well fine," He snapped, if that was what people chose to see, then that was their fault. It wasn't his fault he was born in such a way. The Bishop himself had told him that he was also tempted when he first saw him, but he'd seen the error of his ways and recognized why the Good Lord had brought the orphan to him.
The Bishop loved him, raised him as his own, educated him in a matter befitting a scholar and cared for him in a way surpassed only by the Grigori. The Grigori. He smiled, retracting his hand. The Bishop may have raised him, tutored him, and taken care of him, but the trio of Grigori was the closest beings he ever had to a real family. When he was an infant and the Bishop had been away, it had been the Grigori who held him when he cried, fed him when he was hungry, comforted him when he wanted attention. As a child, they had played with him, taught him to laugh, to smile, to sing and have fun, scolded him when he misbehaved and taught him about life outside of Notre Dame. They even taught him about the glory and love of the Good Lord. Marik taught him and educated him in math, sciences, and other scholarly things, as well as sheltered him from the evil of the world and its sinners beyond the sanctuary of Notre Dame.
"Ryou?" His head shot up when he heard Yami's voice at his door. "Are you alright, mon ange?"
"Is he sick?" He heard Yugi ask.
Ryou jumped to his feet, feeling guilty for worrying them until a third voice, deeper and more regal than Yami's, filled the tower. Neither Grigori noticed when Ryou opened the door, their eyes, like Ryou's, had flown to the tallest and eldest of the trio of guardian angels. Atem sat commandingly above them on a beam, his enormous black wings speckled with gold and red expanded at his sides. Unfortunately, the flock of pigeons perched on the rims of his wings and atop his crown of his hair marred this regal image.
"Get out of here, ya bunch of buzzards!" The Grigori hollered, thrashing his arms and wings and sending the birds into a scatter. He regained his composure when he caught the rest of his family staring at him. "Now then…" He paused and leapt from the balcony, following Ryou as he walked up the steps to another room in between the two towers.
Curtains lined the area while the glassless window in the front let in warm sunlight and offered the grandest view of Paris. On the table were tiny scraps of beads, broken glass fragments, cutting supplies and other materials Ryou used to create the pretty things hanging from the beams. Books were neatly stacked about as well since the Bishop let him read whatever he wanted from the library.
That room had been Ryou's sanctuary, a place where he felt he could be free to express himself. Although he was free to go about the church as he wished—and often did for mass—he preferred to stay in the towers. There he was free to listen to the sound of the bells and the music, gaze at the stunning stained-glass, or roam about the roofs of the towers and church. Even so, that single room had been the one place he felt the most at home.
"Now then." Ryou paused in his thinking when he felt Atem's hand on his shoulders. "What's bothering you, mon ange?"
Ryou blushed at the nickname and leaned against his table. "I'm not sure…" He said honestly. "I guess, I'm just not sure I want to watch the festival or what I want to do at the moment."
"How so?" Yugi tucked his wings behind his back and moved to the young man's side.
"Well, everyday I wake up and I find myself something to do and I enjoy it; the music, the arts, the things I make. But lately, I don't feel…as happy."
"Like you want more?" Yami suggested, sitting cross-legged. "Whenever you see the Mardi Gras Festival, you want to go but you're too afraid to, so you watch from the towers. But that's not enough anymore, is it?"
Ryou nodded.
"You're growing up, Ryou." Yami smiled, noticing the uncomfortable stance Atem was taking as he continued. "You want to experience life first hand, not keep reading about it or watching it. You're still young, you should be seeing the world, or at the very least, Paris, not spending all your time cooped up in this tower."
Ryou blinked, shocked for a moment at the suggestion. "But you three have lived in this tower all your lives."
Yugi cut him off before he could finish. "We're Grigori, Ryou." The angel met his adopted son's confused gaze with a maternal smile. "Guardians. We're born to protect Our Lady and all within her walls, but even that duty won't last forever. Our lives are not human lives; it isn't measured in time or years or even regrets and accomplishments. We live as we always have. But you, you're young and you're human. You have an entire lifetime ahead of you, one that you should spend following your own heart and finding your own happiness."
"Besides," Atem joked. "If we've survived this long with each other, we can survive another three hundred years together." Everyone laughed at that statement; even Ryou couldn't help but giggle. "But Ryou, in all honesty, it's true. If you spend your life watching people live their lives or reading about it, you're going to watch your own life fly right by you, and then before you realize it, it's too late to experience life for yourself."
"And what kind of guardians would we be if we let you live your life regretting what you didn't do?" Yugi added.
"Exactly." Yami chimed in. "What's stopping you from enjoying Mardi Gras and having the time of your life?" Ryou smiled, though a sigh soon replaced it.
"It's not just that." He added, sadly. "It's my master…"
The Grigori flinched, as he expected. The Grigori were always shy about their dislike of the old man. He wasn't sure if it was because of their own love for Ryou or their dislike of his ways of carrying out God's law. Regardless, whenever he appeared, they kept themselves out of sight.
All his life, he'd lived in isolation and naivety inside the tower, innocent and away from the world with his master to teach him and his guardians to love him. He thought about the outside world like he thought of a day when the Grigori wouldn't play hide and seek with him. This isolation created a child's paradise.
He'd been a lovely child; an angel as the Grigori called him. Even the Bishop adored him, raised him and loved him as his own. He brought him with him on trips outside of town, not wanting to leave him in the care of the nuns when he was too young to care for himself. Ryou promised the Grigori not to tell anyone about them each time he left the church with his Master. It was the Bishop who brought him his meals everyday when he forgot to get them and made sure he ate all his fruits and vegetables, even the ones he disliked. It was the Bishop who taught him to read and write, educated him in the maths and sciences, introduced him to the arts and the music and let him become the ringer of the Notre Dame bells he loved so much.
But when he turned thirteen, everything changed.
"The Bishop's ideals are flawed." Atem remarked sternly. "He chooses to believe one side of things and not the rest. He is respectable, but his isolation has marred his compassion. He traps himself here and, at times, lets his own judgment guide him instead of the Lord's. His visions of right and wrong are even stricter then our own, it seems."
"Perhaps, but I can't blame him." Ryou replied lowly, turning his gaze towards the window. Golden sunlight shimmered over the sparkling city of Paris. The buildings and streets glimmered an almost holy white; a perfect façade of the darkness that happened in the shadowy alleys and trash-littered streets. "All my life he's tried to protect me from the sins of the world, and when I go, I see people who prove just that. People only look at me with envy, or pride, or lust, or hatred." Tears pricked the boy's eyes, "I know there is nothing I can do to stop them, but I hate invoking those emotions in people. Every time I leave this tower, I try and help people, but all I see in the world are sinners."
He couldn't stop the tears that fell from his eyes as dark memories filled his mind, the memories of why he chose not to leave his sanctuary in the bell towers.
Yugi's arms wrapped around his adopted son and stroked his hair. Ryou let himself fall back as the three Grigori crowded around him, offering him comfort. None of them spoke, knowing full well their little one had seen more of the darkness of the world than anyone else. Unlike the Bishop, who assumed the world was full of sin and that only isolation from society guaranteed purity, Ryou had seen firsthand the darkness of humanity; how some people truly were impossible to save.
"That is the way of life." The eldest Grigori eventually replied. "That is the nature of freewill, mon ange. Some choose to use it to do good, while others give into temptation and descend into sin."
Ryou blinked for a moment. Atem smiled and answered the unasked question "There will always be light and darkness just as there will always be evil and good, but they are not necessarily the same. The light is not always good and the darkness is not always bad. It does not work in that manner." Atem explained.
"He's right, mon ange. The world isn't black and white and neither are humans." Yami added. "Humans have free-will and emotions. Their lives are made of colors and grays. They may pursue what they believe is righteous, but those acts may in fact be sinful. Likewise, another may pursue actions others vied as wrong, but he or she their actions are just if those actions help other."
"Why do you think we call you 'angel,' mon ange?" Yugi smiled. "It isn't because you look like an angel, it's because you have a heart as warm and carrying as the light of heaven."
Ryou froze at the statement, touched and confused by what they said, but he smiled.
"The Good Lord does not decide when we are born who is good and who is evil. It is we who decide which path we follow, that is why the Lord blessed humanity with freewill, and he hopes we are strong enough to do whatever must be done in order to fulfill our destinies."
Ryou nodded before looking out the window again. The streets were alive with the Mardi Gras festival and crowds had already gathered around the entertainers.
"Thank you all so very much." Ryou smiled. "Maybe I can find someone good at the festival?" He formed it as a question but the Grigori caught his hidden message.
"That's the spirit!" The ever adventurous Yami jumped to his feet. "If there is one good soul, such as yourself, here then there will always be somewhere else."
"Never forget, mon ange." Yugi said, hugging him from behind. "There is always more good in this world than bad. It may not always seem so, but there is always hope."
Hope. Ryou felt his smile brighten and his heart flutter. Wasn't that what Heaven's light was? What the Archdeacon spoke of each Mass when he spoke of God's love and light?
"You're right." Ryou smiled brightly and started down the staircase, back towards his room, to grab the secret he kept hidden if he ever decided to go to the Festival. His heart quickened in anticipation as he approached his room and threw the door open…
Only to come face to face with the cold, stern eyes of his master, the Bishop Marik.
"Good morning, Ryou Glory." He gestured.
"Oh!" Ryou recoiled with surprise, not expecting to find him there. "G-good morning, Bishop." He responded respectfully, letting his head and gaze drop to the floor.
"You weren't in your room." The Bishop observed. "Were you about the tower?"
Ryou nodded. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, everything is in order." The Bishop replied, holding out a tray of bread and fruits for the young man as well a rich morning wine for breakfast.
"Thank you." The boy smiled and took the plate before setting it on the table, surprised his master hadn't sat down to join him. "Are you not eating?"
"Not today." Marik shook his head; his cold mask not once faltering as he scanned the boy up and down, not failing to notice how the attire he'd chosen, while perfect for the chilly weather, accented all his curves. "I'm only here to inform you of what's happening today, it seems a few things have come up that require my attention."
"Do you mean the festival?" Ryou asked, knowing his master attended the event every year for social reasons. The Bishop spent his days locked away in the church or out of the city, dabbling in his books or in his alchemy. Rumors had been going around that he was a sorcerer, but those rumors were quickly silenced.
"Yes and no." The Bishop replied, strolling about the tower, wandering towards the bells and up towards the room Ryou used as his work place. "You remember what I told you about the outside world, Ryou Glory? About the truth of humanity and how I promised when you were but an infant to protect you from it and all its sins?"
Ryou shivered at the freezing bite in the man's tone. How could he forget? Isolation created a paradise for him, but it had hardened the once warm smile and nurturing eyes of the bishop into a statue of coldness. And Ryou knew why.
He was thirteen when he left the tower on his own for the first time. Marik had always taken Ryou with him on business to other churches and throughout the city. Each time had been a lesson. Each time Ryou saw the darkness of the world outside the sanctuary of his tower: hunger, sadness and grief; thievery, cheaters and poverty; girls and young women, barely old enough to bare children, dressed like prostitutes; whole families wearing rags sleeping in cramped, infested alleys; beggars scavenging around for food or begging for money. It broke the boy's heart and he had reached into his pockets and tried to offer them money, but the Bishop had pulled him away from the madness and into the shelter of his cloak, shushing him and telling him not to bother with the unchangeable fate of the gypsies and peasants.
He'd always wondered why. Why did so many people suffer? What did they do to deserve their unhappy fate? How could God allow such a thing to happen? The Bishop had just glared at him and said it was their fate. Fate was cruel, but it was out of the hands of humanity to change it. He remembered once when he climbed into the tower and tried to free a fly caught in the web of a spider, the Bishop had snatched him into his arms and yelled at him, "Do not interfere with fate!" He'd made him watch as the spider trapped the poor fly in a web of its own silk. Ryou had cried all night, but the Bishop assured him that was the will of God.
All things lived and died for one another. It was only the freewill of the individual that changed fate. He understood and respected that. The fly had flown into the web on its own accord and the spider had killed it for food to survive. But what about the people? Why were they fated to suffer? Why did no one help them when they were forced to steal, lie, cheat, sell their bodies and scavenge to survive? He'd questioned it for years, but the Bishop never answered. He just looked at the boy with shock, then his neutral mask of a parent returned. He would just smile, pat the boy's head and tell him not to worry about such things, passing his questions off as the naïve concerns of a child and hoping they would pass. But Ryou's concerns never did.
When he was thirteen, he expressed his ideals to the Bishop of helping the outcasts: giving them money, clothes and donating things to them. The Bishop was not angry at him for doing so; charity was one of the seven virtues after all. Ryou had a heart full of kindness and generosity, perhaps he deserved his angelic appearance for that reason, but he didn't know the truth: if he continued to give to the people, they would never help themselves. They would just moan and beg, knowing the kind soul would take pity on them. They would not work or change but use the poor boy and take advantage of his kindness until there was nothing left to take. The Bishop told him so, drilled it into the boy's skull, even forbade him from leaving the main streets of the city but Ryou refused to believe the gypsies were evil or that people were incapable of change.
Then, when he was fourteen, he began defying the Bishop's order and ventured into the darker parts of town, willingly donating and offering his service to help the people there. But he was a fool. Instead, he got lost and found himself in the dangerous parts of the city, a place so fraudulent, so filthy, so infested with sin that even God himself refused to shed light on it. The people he found there were not suffering innocents in need of assistance, but greedy, drunken debauches who purposely squandered their money on liquor, women and their own personal pleasures. It had horrified the boy, but when he tried to find someone in need of help, all he found were more corrupted monsters. Because of his beauty, they thought he was a prostitute and he never knew if this was purposefully or accidentally.
He had run for his life. He made it to the end of the streets before he was cornered, too terrified to fight back, too terrified to defend himself, even as the filthy, blurry men grabbed him with their thick, meaty hands. Even as he screamed while they tore at his clothes, only to discover he was not a prostitute, or even a woman, but a young boy. The fury and disgust in their eyes brought him to tears. He screamed as they grabbed him and beat him, calling him a demon and a monster.
He didn't like to think about what would've happened if his screaming hadn't alerted the missionary guards. Or what might have happened if they hadn't recognized him as the bishop's ward. If they just saw the man and knew them to be convicted criminals, would they have dragged them away in chains to their deaths or let them have their way with him?
He would never know.
All he remember of that night, was the guards arresting the men. One of them recognized him and grabbed his arms, even as he kicked and screamed, and dragged him back to the safety of the cathedral. The Bishop had been alerted of the incident and told of the boy's actions, but by then he was already in the safety of his tower. He'd cried for days in the Grigoris' arms. Atem had thrown a fit and made sure the assailants had been punished for their sins. Yami and Yugi had been horrified and infuriated at the bishop's coolness about the whole situation. Since then, their disdain for the man refused to die.
The bishop hadn't comforted him or scolded him or even beaten him. He'd done nothing, but the look in his eyes when Ryou saw him, after he'd been told what Ryou did and what had happened, was worse than any beating the Bishop could've ever given him. It was a look of disappointment.
He'd failed the bishop. The man's entire life had been to maintain his glory, to keep him pure, keep him safe and away from the sins of the world. And Ryou himself had single-handily destroyed all he had done with one poorly-made decision. The Bishop had worked so hard to make up for his failure to raise his brother and now he'd failed again with Ryou. From that day on, Ryou could never look the Bishop in the eye. From that day on, the Bishop's smile for him held no love. It had lost all its warmth because now, all it saw was a living reminder of his failure.
"You are my Glory." The Bishop always told him. "The Good Lord sent you to me so I may save your soul from the fiery pit and I will do so. Glory is your name and so you shall be my final Glory." He said it all the time and, to this day, Ryou had no idea what it meant.
"Yes, master, I do." Ryou replied blankly.
"Good." The bishop nodded as he strolled over towards the rim of the cathedral and looked over the balcony at the city and the Mardi Gras Festival down below. Already the town was alive with music, dancing, and performers. Party-goers dressed in richly decorated costumes flocked the city streets, their true faces hidden behind masks of glamour. "When was the last time you've been to the festival, Ryou Glory?" He asked out of nowhere.
Surprise shattered Ryou's mask as he looked up to face his master. Unsure of the purpose behind the question, he answered. "I cannot recall. Not since I was small, I believe." He honestly couldn't remember. So many years had been spent watching the Festival from the safety and luxury of his tower, he couldn't recall before the "incident" if he'd ever actually gone.
The Bishop smiled, but it was a pleased smile, not a kind one. "That's good then. They say this year is going to be quite a spectacle, but I fear it will be just the opposite." He said with a harsh degree of disdain in his voice.
"Master?" Ryou asked, surprised and confused.
"They say the gypsies are fleeing to this country, this very city in fact. It appears Spain has bested us in its extermination of the gypsy heretics and now they seek a new life in this country. This year, they've fled to the city for the festival. They probably think they're disgusting displays will earn them enough to live 'a good life.' Like they have a right to live in this shinning city, even if they can't afford it. This city is no place for heretics!"
"But Master!" Ryou protested. "If they're trying to earn their keep, then isn't that good? You said so yourself, only our freewill has the power to change our fate! If the gypsies are trying to earn their living so they can change their misfortune, isn't that good?" He blurted out without thinking, though instantly regretted it when the Bishop whirled around, his black clothes spiraling around him like a curtain of night. He struck a fierce gaze in Ryou's direction.
"Gypsies don't earn money, Ryou Glory. Remember that. They are creatures rejected by God. They mock his name by claiming to worship him but they dabble in the black arts and then refuse to take responsibility for their actions. They are incapable of change. Your heart is too soft; you can't see it, but I do. I see it every day." He spoke each word harshly with a fierce passion and a firm belief in the scorn he was preaching.
Any other time, Ryou might have stayed silent. Any other time, he might have submissively nodded and left the subject at that. But he didn't this time.
"I don't believe that!" He objected and raised his head, forcing tears back into his wet eyes as he faced the bishop's hard face. "I don't believe people are born evil or incapable of change. Some people are evil, I know that for a fact. But if people are willing to change, to struggle to make things better for themselves, then I don't see what's wrong with that."
"That's just the problem, Ryou Glory," The Bishop chuckled darkly, turning around and bracing his forehead in his leather-gloved fingertips. "They don't wish to change to better themselves, they seek to change because they want things. They want the comforts and luxuries we are afforded everyday. They seek to obtain what they can't have any other way, and then when they squander their money, they'll just go and beg for more."
"But what about those who don't?" Ryou argued, determined not to lose the subject. Hope. He quoted the Grigori in his mind. He may have failed the Bishop and bore the consequences of that shame every day since then, but he would be damned if he was the cause of his master's loss of faith in humanity. "What about the good people, the ones who earn their living to feed their families, or seek to bequeath their children a better life? What if the 'luxuries' they seek are just to give their family and friends a healthier and safer life? Surely, it must be difficult living on the streets?"
The Bishop didn't answer, but his laughter hadn't stopped as he listened to Ryou's argument. "To this day I know not if you really are an angel or just blissfully unaware of your descent into corruption." Ryou froze at the statement. His heart leapt into this throat, when the bishop was in front of him, meeting his eye-level. Ryou's dark eyes stared straight into the icy lavender that had long since lost their warmth.
"But I don't care which it is." The Bishop snapped, taking the front of the boy's shirt. "I want you to stay as far away from the Gypsies as possible. Don't leave your tower until the end of the Festival tomorrow. You are the glory God sent to me as a test! Remember that, Ryou Glory. I failed to save Malik, and I failed with you. But mark my words, you will be my Final Glory."
The bishop dropped the boy to the ground. Too shocked to catch himself, Ryou fell to the stone floor in a heap. In the corner, the Bells chimed loudly with anger. It was a signal that Atem was furious and the other two Grigori, though they no doubt shared his anger, were trying to restrain him. Ryou didn't move from his position, knowing from experience it would be worse for him if he continued to resist or fight back. Even though he should've kept his head down submissively, he looked up.
The Bishop's face lost all its control and a twisted, malicious grin replaced it, like the look of a man on the brink of madness. He smiled a crooked smile at the boy before running a hand through his impossible spikes of platinum hair and replaced his hat. His face regained its composure in an instant. He moved like a shadow through the room back towards stairs.
"By the way," he paused in the doorway to the boy's room, without turning around, "there is another reason I wanted to inform you about the gypsy problem." Ryou said nothing, but got to his feet and stood firm, bracing himself for the information. "My brother is returning to Paris. Since it seems he's a failure as a scholar, he's been given the position of Captain of the City's Guards. Hopefully, there he can redeem himself and earn his penance." The Bishop slammed the door behind him, leaving without another word to the boy.
Once he was positive his master had left, Ryou collapsed to the ground, not surprised to feel a flock of warm wings wrapping around him.
"Ryou?" He recognized Yugi's voice, high with concern.
"He's wrong." Ryou responded. When he looked up, the Grigori met his eyes with confusion. He smiled at them and explained. "He's wrong. I don't believe all the gypsies are corrupted. Even the eternal Son said if he found even just one good person in a city of sin, he would spare the whole town, did he not?"
The Grigori nodded.
"I'm going to prove it." Ryou said boldly.
"Ryou, even if you do prove there is good in the world, there is no way the Bishop will believe you." Atem explained with a sad sigh. He always did hate being the one to dampen Ryou's optimism.
"Worse, he'll punish you if you tell him you left the tower after he told you not to." Yami added. "If you do enjoy the festival, its best that he never finds out."
Ryou just chuckled, grateful to his family for their support and protection. But this was something he needed to do, not for the bishop's sake, but his own. "I'm not going to prove anything to the bishop." He explained. "I want to prove it to myself. If I can find just one person who can accept me for who I am, and who is truly good at heart, then I can live the rest of my life knowing there is hope for humanity. Even if it's just one day and only one person."
The Grigoris' eyes brightened with happiness. Yami's grin widened to a smirk as he and Yugi pulled Ryou to his feet. "Well then we'll have to make sure the Bishop can't recognize you and that you blend in with the rest of the crowd, don't we?"
Yugi clapped his hands with glee as Ryou pulled the box from under his bed and tore the lid open to show his guardians the secret it hid. Even Atem smiled as they gazed upon the Mardi Gras outfit.
"Nice." He complimented. "But it needs a few finishing touches." He smirked, pulling a few lose feathers from his wings.
And there is chapter 4 (phew) I'm proud of how this came out! I wanted to show both Ryou's growing up and his current life now.
I'm also ecstatic with how much everyone seems to like how I do Marik in this, i must say he is an absolute joy to write, and i love playing around with both his novel personality and his movie personality. I hope this answers some questions about him. More on his past is sure to come. Ryou's I wanted to get out right away so he can "move on". I love characterization. I also wanted to show Ryou's reasoning for being isolated aren't forced but, like Quasimodo in the novel, choice.
Also, for everyone who's been waiting Malik will appear next chapter! I decided to combined the roles of Phobeus and Jeran (Frollo's brother) into one character: which is so much fun because they're both such debauched characters in the novel: also for those of you who have seen the movie, BANISH THAT VERSION OF PHOBEUS FROM YOUR MINDS! I plan on doing a total 180 with him.
Bakura and the mages will also return next chap.
Again special thanks to all my wonderful fans for their reviews! I never expected this story to be so popular! Again special thanks to Chicary and Zephyra!