*Re-upload. This chapter was originally deleted for whatever reason.

Ryou couldn't bring himself to relax like he should have been. After his ordeal, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself among soft blankets and sleep. He felt faint and his body begged for sleep, yet his eyes remained open. The man in red had been his savior, but he couldn't help the fear that still gripped his chest as he watched the man from afar. He was torn between remaining in the only place where he felt somewhat comfortable – a dark corner near the exit, unnoticed – or investigate what the man was doing to his brother.

He had brought jars and linens over to the low bed in which Bakura had been placed on. For a man that had killed so smoothly and professionally, he was being unexpectedly gentle as he tended to the boy.

Ryou pulled his knees closer to his chest, watching the man's every move with suspicion. He had no right to feel this way; the man had saved him from whatever ill fate the soldiers had planned for him and his brother. Ryou's innocent mind couldn't even begin to conjure up the kinds of punishments that could have befallen him and Bakura.

After the bad men had been killed by his red savior, Ryou found himself following him like a blind sheep. The man had moved swiftly through the city, Bakura's limp body nestled in his arms. Ryou said nothing, for he had made the decision to stay his tongue; speaking felt too dangerous. He followed diligently, despite his sickening worry and aching body. He had stumbled many times due to fatigue, but he forced himself to keep moving, to keep following this strange man.

They had eventually left the main part of the city and to the outskirts, where he and his brother had always avoided. There were mad men here, as well as beggars. Ryou found himself drifting closer to the man that held his brother as he saw the gleaming eyes of men who were sick in the mind. Their frail bodies slithered from the shadows, moving weakly through the streets, even at night.

Ryou felt unsafe when the sun was set; the dark expansion of the night sky was ominous. His guide seemed completely at ease as he moved about the night; his steps had been confident and quick, making it difficult for Ryou to keep up.

Eventually, their journey had come to an end when he arrived at a pile of ruins. It looked like it had once been a marvelous tower, but had been long since forgotten. The beautiful, artistic walls had become rubble. The stone floor became nothing more than a layer of cool sand. The man had guided Ryou around some large boulders and broken walls before he seemingly disappeared under the ground. Upon closer inspection, Ryou had found a hole amongst all the discarded, weather-worn stones.

The man didn't explain where they were as they slipped into the main chamber. Ryou had expected something cold and dank, but instead found a small yet marvelous room. Each corner shimmered with golds and jewels – more than Ryou had ever seen. The walls were lined with tables, each surface covered in different treasures. The scones on the walls flickered, their light causing everything in the room shimmer beautifully.

Ryou's breath had been taken away. While he had marveled the room, the man had laid Bakura onto the bed near the far wall. Ryou's awe of the room diminished quickly, his anxiety returning. He had followed this man – this murderer – into his very own lair. He could easily have just as bad as intentions as those men that had taken him and his brother, or the men that had slain his family.

Realizing his stupidity, he had fearfully retreated into the closest corner and squatted down, where he was presently. He hadn't moved since they arrived who knows how long ago. His tired limbs felt sore and stiff. He was sure the sun had risen by now, but he had yet to get sleep; he was too restless and frightened. He could only sit on the cold stone and watch this man – this murderer – tend to his brother.

By now, Ryou was sure his brother was alive, or else this man wouldn't have lugged him through the city, nor wouldn't have been tending to him currently. Yet, he was still distressed; his poor brother was so weak he couldn't even regain consciousness. The smallest whimper escaped his chapped lips and he broke eye contact with the man to dig his face into his knees in an attempt to keep his tears at bay.

He remained like this until he heard movement come from across the room. His gaze snapped up in time to see his host walk away from his brother. Ryou scrambled out of his hiding spot, doing his best to make as little noise as possible, and darted over to his brother.

His tunic had been removed at some point so the stranger could tend to him. Ryou gasped, seeing for the first time what an awful shape his brother was in.

His stomach was sunken in to the point where Ryou was sure there was no room for organs. Each and every rib was pushing against his peaked skin. He barely seemed human. How was Bakura even alive? He cried out and snatched his brother's hand, noticing for the first time how light it felt and how boney the fingers were.

Somehow, Ryou found more tears to shed.

"Here."

The boy jumped nearly a foot and whipped around like a startled feline. The stranger stood right next to him – Ryou didn't even notice his approach. He gulped, staring up and down the man's body before noticing he was holding out a clay jug. With a shaking and hesitant grasp, he took the jug.

"Drink."

He stared at the piece of pottery. He moved it around, hearing a slosh. Excitement filled him as he put the jug to his lips, eagerly drinking the liquid that met his dry mouth –

It took all his willpower not to spit the liquid back up. He sputtered as it dribbled down his chin, but he forced himself to swallow it anyway before he shoved the jug back at the man.

"It's beer, kid. Haven't you ever had it before?"

Ryou shrunk away and sheepishly shook his head. He never had an interest for beer; he preferred water and milk. Even when his father offered it to him, he refused. The man gave a grumble and left, returning with a different jug. He roughly shoved it at Ryou. "Drink this then. But not too much of it. I don't have a lot and I hate making trips to the well."

This time when Ryou drank, his pallet sung. Even if the water was warm and stagnant, it felt wonderful on his dry throat. He could have drank forever, but he steeled himself and only allowed a couple gulps before returning the jug to the man. He then turned his attention back to his brother.

"He's weak, but he should survive."

Ryou remained quiet, though he looked to the side in the man's direction with a curious expression.

The man sighed. "I said he should survive. The fact he's still alive is a miracle. Once he wakes, he'll be able to eat and get some meat on his bones."

Ryou perked at the mention of food, though he tried to hide it; he didn't want to seem rude, even in his state of starvation.

The man seemed to notice anyway as the slightest smirk tugged at his lips. "I bet you're hungry, kid. You don't look much better off than he does."

Ryou gave a docile nod and looked at the ground, feeling ashamed to be reliant on this murderer for both his brother's recovery and for his own basic survival needs. Ryou remained latched to his brother even as the mysterious man walked away again. He returned the jug to its place before he turned to one of the many baskets. He slipped his hand inside and pulled out something Ryou was sure he had never seen before.

Though as he got closer, and Ryou got a better look, his eyes widened.

Meat!

He had only had meat a few rare times in his life. As nothing more than common farmers, his family could never afford to trade enough things to get meat. Whenever one of their animals died, their father usually took the meat to town, since he could get plenty of good things for it. A few times though, he prepared it and they would feast on jerky for days.

His mouth watered at the memory. His hunger got the better of his manners as he snatched the jerky from the large palms of the man and shoved it down his gullet, barely having time to chew. Salty, smoky flavors blanketed his tongue. It was the most delicious thing to have ever traveled down his throat, even better that the bitter onion from a few days ago. He quickly shoved all of the strips in his mouth, until they were all gone. He looked at his empty hands before looking up at the man, ashamed of what he had done.

If anything, he seemed somewhat amused by Ryou's appetite. He left once more, and Ryou, feeling guilty of his behavior, shrunk back. He slipped onto the edge of the bed next to his brother, still holding his hand and staring down at his sickly form.

"How long has he gone without food?"

The husky voice of the elder man startled him. He hesitated before shrugging; he really didn't know how long it had been since his brother had eaten. Days? Weeks..? Now that he thought about it he hadn't seen Bakura eat for a long time. The few times they had managed to find some food, Bakura had given his serving to his brother...

Ryou's stomach suddenly dropped as realization hit him.

This was his fault.

His brother was sick because he had given all his food to Ryou. He let out a cry and brought his brother's hand up to his face. His skin felt cold against his tear-stained cheek, only making him cry harder. If his brother died, it would surely be his fault.

"Oh, Bakura, why did you feed me instead of yourself..." Ryou whispered desperately. He didn't expect an answer, but he still wept at his brother's continued silence.

…

Throughout most of the day, Ryou was rooted to the same spot next to Bakura. Even when his eyelids threatened to close, when his muscles stiffened with his position, when he needed to answer the call of nature, he didn't move. He didn't want to leave his brother's side.

Eventually, fearing he would wet himself, he struggled to his aching feet. He gently set Bakura's arm down next to his body and padded across the underground room. He wasn't entirely sure where to go, so he headed through the open doorway and up the long staircase. He was met with the sun and its warmth as he left the chamber, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Being underground didn't suit him; he was used to the open desert, broken only by shrubs, boulders and the churning river.

Ryou walked away from the rubble that surrounded the crack in the ground that led to the chamber. He then relieved himself on some sand once he was sure he wouldn't be caught and get in trouble for not using the designated relief area, wherever it may have been.

Once he was done, he made his way back to the opening in the ground, but not before taking in more of the surroundings. They weren't too far from the city; it could still be seen in the near distance. Where he was standing looked as if it had once been a marvelous building, perhaps even an elaborate tomb, but Ryou couldn't be sure, and he wasn't planning on asking. He closed his eyes and allowed his body to absorb some of the sunlight. The underground had been very cold, so he gave himself a moment to warm his limbs.

Ryou then slipped into the hole and padded down into the darkness. He felt uneasy as shadows began swirling around him, blocking the little sun that managed to stream down the stairwell.

"Lay back down kid, before you hurt yourself," Scoffed a familiar, gruff voice.

He heard Bakura's voice curse in a low tone. Ryou's heart soared as he threw himself down the remaining stairs and ran into the cluttered chamber. His brother was standing – or rather wobbling – right next to the bed, his garnet eyes blazing with anger.

"Bakura!"

Bakura turned to see his brother. Some relief came to his otherwise livid eyes, but he still looked ruffled. He turned back to the man, who had stepped closer.

"Get away from me!"

Sensing trouble, Ryou rushed over to his brother's side and tugged at his arm, desperately attempting to calm him. He knew that if his brother continued talking like this, they could easily be killed. "Bakura, no! This man saved us!"'

"Saved us?" Bakura repeated, looking at his brother as if he were crazy. "From what?!"

Ryou rapidly shook his head. "S-something happened..." he then began to elaborate on the events of the previous night, not sparing any details.

"Last night I woke up and heard some bad men talking. That man we stole those onions from turned us in to the guards. They tracked us into that alley. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't! You wouldn't and it was scary! Then they captured us and they were going to take us somewhere... I don't know where... but they were scary, and treated us badly. T-then he saved us. He came down out of nowhere and killed the soldiers. And... and you still didn't wake up, even when we were brought here..." Ryou finished, more tears filling his eyes. "I was so worried I thought you were going to die! Why did you let yourself starve, Bakura? Why did you give all your food to me?"

Bakura scoffed and weakly shoved Ryou away. "It's because your so damn weak. Maybe if you stopped crying and manned up for once, I wouldn't have to feed you."

Suddenly, his brother wavered. His legs crumpled under him and he fumbled to the stone floor with a string of feeble curses. Ryou cried out and knelt near his body. "Bakura?!"

He got grumbled in response. "My body is almost as weak as yours..." He looked up at the man, who had remained quiet through all this.

"You have a lot of food. Give me some."

The man's eye twitched. Ryou squeaked when he threw his arm down and forced Bakura to his feet by grabbing one boney arm. He raised him into the air, his face twisted in rage.

"Listen, boy. I don't take orders from anybody. Especially insolent brats. In fact, now that you're awake, you can take your leave." He then threw Bakura carelessly to the floor, his eyes dark with malice.

Bakura gave a few coughs and shot their host a vicious glare.

"I don't want to stay in this dump anyway."

But the process of actually getting up was something that Bakura simply could no achieve in his state. Each time Ryou reached to help him, he got smacked and shoved. It took several minutes for him to even get up, and once he was up, he could only succeed in walking a few more feet.

Watching his older twin go through this was too much for young Ryou to bare. His body quivered with emotion as he turned towards their host, who was back in his corner, watching the whole scene with cold, hooded eyes. Ryou couldn't handle this. The thought of going back out there so soon, the threat of being captured again hanging over his head constantly, the possibility of starving to death, of losing his brother to the harsh elements, it was too much. He broke as he closed his hands into fists, tears prickling his eyes once more.

"Please, Efendim, don't cast us out," Ryou pleaded weakly, "We... we can't survive out there. We've barely been able to in the weeks since we started looking after ourselves. We barely eat, we sleep in the cold, we're always tired and hungry and thirsty and nobody cares! Nobody cares! T-they just look at us like we're diseased. Like we don't matter. Like it doesn't matter that we're on our own because our parents –"

" – Shut your mouth Ryou!"

" – because our parents were killed. And our sister. We'll never seen them again. We'll never see our home again, or our farm," He had begun to weep, his voice wavering with anguish. "P-please let us stay. At least until Bakura can walk! He can't even make it out of this chamber, how do you expect us to survive out in the world?! The c-cruel world..." the boy broke down, tears and mucus smearing all over his face.

By now, Bakura had struggled to his feet. He launched his weakened body at Ryou. He was snarling as he grabbed roughly onto his brother's tunic, "You idiot! We do NOT beg! I told you we will never beg!"

"B-but –"

" – No! Shut up! You've spoken enough!" He grabbed roughly onto his brother's arm and attempted to drag him to the exit. Despite his weakened body, he still had a vice grip.

"Bakura, we can't survive out there!" He managed to snatch his arm away and wail, "We're just kids! Orphans, now! We can't exist in this world without help!"

"We don't need help. I can take care of us just fine."

"We almost gotten taken away! By the same bad men that killed Abbi and Mut and Amane!"

Bakura quieted for a moment and looked away, his features dark. "I won't let that happen."

"You can't be sure of that. Look at you! You can barely stand!"

"I'm fine–"

"–Don't give me that!" He yelled as he grabbed and shook his brother's shoulders. "Bakura, what if you die? D-don't... don't leave me alone."

Instead of shoving his hands off his shoulders like Bakura had a tendency to do, he took them within his own and carefully removed them. He weakly glared down at the ground as he said, "I won't die."

"...Y-you don't know that..."

"If I was meant to die so young, I would have been killed with the others."

Ryou shook his head in despair. "P-please..." He wrapped his arms around his brother and buried his face into his shoulder. "Please..."

"...I told you not to beg." Bakura murmured as he reached up to give his brother a few shoulder pats. "It makes you look pathetic."

Ryou sniffled and smiled a little. Bakura looked up at the man, who had been watching them the whole time.

"If it's... okay with you," He began begrudgingly, a scowl gracing his features, "Then we will stay until I can take more than three steps without falling on my ass."

The man said nothing. Instead, he slowly walked over to a basket, pulled out a piece of jerky and chucked it at Bakura, ignoring the startled curse that escaped the boy as it smacked him in the face.

"Don't eat all my food."

He then swept past them and disappeared out the door, leaving them alone in the chamber.

…

"If you stay here, I expect you to work."

This is what their nameless host had told Ryou. The boy had nodded fervently; he wanted to show his appreciation to the man for letting them stay until Bakura was back on his feet.

The man had assigned him to a job he was already familiar with; to take care of his horse, Ma'at [1]. It was a massive beast that towered over the boy of small stature. This horse, unlike his father's frail, chestnut one, was a massive riding horse. The beast's hooves were practically the size of his head. His muscles, like his wayward owner, were taut and rippled under his thin, black coat each time it moved.

Ryou was intimidated, but he was confident in his abilities to deal with this horse. His family's goat had been a feisty thing; it never let anybody near it without making a move to clamp down on their clothing. Ryou was the only one it seemed to tolerate. They even had become friends of sorts.

When the boy had first approached Ma'at, it regarded with with intense, beady eyes. Ryou had felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he eased over to the trough, a bundle of hay within his arms. When he came close, the horse suddenly whinnied and swarmed forward. Ryou had squeaked – a pathetic noise, even coming from him – and scrambled away, dropping the hay. He felt lucky the horse was tethered to a pillar that kept it from moving any further.

He thought he had heard laughter while he stood a safe distance away, his chest heaving.

The hardest part of tending to the horse wasn't shoveling feces, but rather getting water. He had to lug buckets to and from the nearby water source, which was a difficult task for a boy as small as he. His delicate arms weren't anything more than beanpoles, causing the task to be incredibly difficult for his weak body. Especially under the hot, Egyptian sun.

His brother didn't like the fact that their host made Ryou tend to his horse.

"Lazy ass," Bakura had growled, his arms crossed over his lithe chest. Ryou had simply sighed and shook his head; he didn't mind working to keep their place here while his brother recovered. In fact, if anybody was a "lazy ass", it was Bakura.

Their host had spoken only a few times, and each time he did it was a warning.

"Do not eat all of the food. Especially the meat."

Bakura had single-handedly went through most of the baskets.

"Do not drink all of the water. If you do. I am not refilling the jug."

Bakura went through almost the whole jug in one day, forcing Ryou to go out and make a grueling water trip.

"And do not go snooping through my things."

And, of course Bakura couldn't even follow that rule. Despite his weak body, he had still gotten out of bed just to look through their host's treasures, much to Ryou's chagrin. He tried to scold his brother for it, but nothing good ever came from doing that.

He was worried their host would get angry for what Bakura did, but he seemingly didn't notice, or didn't care. In fact, Ryou saw very little of the man. He was gone all night and day. Whenever he came back, it was usually at noon. He would kick back in a chair and close his eyes for a nap. However, the man was so stiff with his crossed arms and furrowed brows that Ryou didn't think he actually ever went to sleep during these rest periods.

Ryou found that the man wasn't so bad for a murderer. In fact, he saw his brother in many of the elder's mannerisms; the way he messily ate, the way he slept without relaxing, and the way he spent a majority of his time brooding with a stoic expression. It was actually somewhat amusing, especially when Bakura spoke about how much he hated their host. The two were practically mirrored, though in the end, Ryou decided to keep this to himself. He was sure that if he shared his opinion, he would get smacked.

When the man wasn't out or napping, he was eating. He ate a lot, and the amount of food he had was seemingly endless. Since it was the beginning of the harvest season, he would would bring baskets brimmed to the top with a variety of fresh food such as onions, garlic radishes and beans. He would also bring vegetables and fruits, though in smaller quantities since most of them couldn't be kept for long periods of time.

…

Ryou thought he was dreaming when, one day, he saw his host's hair. His eyes widened the size of plates when the man removed his head-dress, revealing hair that was so similar to him and brother's. It was long, wild, and white as a bone.

The man had noticed his staring, snorted, and said mockingly, "It isn't polite to stare."

Even if it was said jokingly, Ryou had taken it to heart and looked away. He supposed he shouldn't make a big deal of it; his whole family had white hair, after all. It wasn't an oddity to him, simply something that made him and his family unique.

"Is that why you wear a head-dress?" Ryou asked curiously, remembering how his father had told him to wear a wig to hide his hair if he were to ever go to town.

The man didn't answer.

…

One afternoon, when Ryou was done with his chores and sat alongside his brother's sleeping form (Bakura slept quite often these days), the man had come back with grapes. Ryou, loving fruits – especially sweet fruits – practically salivated, but he resisted. Since his brother did most of the eating, he had to keep himself from eating quite often.

The man had set the basket down and pulled out a whole garlic clove. He threw himself on a cushioned mat and viciously dug his teeth into it. Ryou couldn't help but watch. It was certainly strange to eat an entire garlic clove in a single bite... but, their host was a strange man he supposed.

He had glanced up and met Ryou's gaze, to which Ryou jumped and guiltily looked away. He looked ashamed for getting caught blatantly starting. The man frowned, a piece of garlic flecking his lip. He then raised his finger and signaled for Ryou to go over to him. After some hesitation, Ryou swallowed nervously and slipped off the bed and meandered over. He played with his hands as he stopped a comfortable distance away.

"Sit."

Ryou did as he was told. Being so close to a murderer made him uneasy, even if this murderer had shown some sort of hospitality to the two orphans.

The man continued to chew, staring at Ryou with careless eyes. He dug into the basket and pulled out another clove, which he offered to the boy.

Not wanting to be rude, he took it and began to slowly peel the top layer off. The man watched his every move, his eyes not moving from his lithe form. It made Ryou uneasy and self-conscious, causing him to peel even faster, his fingers fumbling. He tore a piece from the glove, and put it in his mouth. His eyes began to water as he chewed the heavily flavored root.

Noticing the boy's discomfort to the food, the man let out a small cackle.

"Don't like garlic?" He asked as he popped another clove into his mouth, his breath wafting over to meet Ryou's nose. It threatened to curl.

"U-uh... I do, I just don't eat it plain..."

"I figured you wanted it, since you were staring so ravenously at my basket."

Ryou didn't want to say he had been looking at the grapes, though his eyes flickered to the bunch that hung over the woven edge of the basket.

The man noticed this and reached into the basket, taking out a bunch of grapes. He held it up, "This what you want, kid?"

After a long hesitation, he nodded shakily. The man tossed the bundle to Ryou, who barely managed to catch it. He plucked a grape off the bunch and tossed it into his mouth. He could have moaned as he broke the grape with his teeth, sweet flavors exploding into his mouth, overcoming the over-bearing taste of garlic.

Forgetting about the partially-eaten clove, he began popping the grapes into his mouth fervently, moans of approval threatening to spill over his mouth along with flavorful juices. Ryou loved fruits – anything sweet, really – and it had been too long since he had any; such things were an unseen luxury when you were living on the streets. As he sat there with his grapes, he concluded that maybe this murderer couldn't possibly be too untrustworthy.

…

Ryou began to notice their host had grown restless. Instead of resting on his mat, he would pace about the small room, muttering to himself. Ryou would watch him move impatiently to and fro, eventually growing dizzy from his repetitive movements. The polite side of him wanted to ask what was the matter, but he restrained himself and instead contented himself in simply watching.

The sudden anxiety the man brought began to affect Ma'at, Ryou noticed. Over the course of his stay, the horse had grown used to the boy's presence, and just as Ryou predicted, the horse began to warm up to him.

Ma'at was noticeably uneasy and paced shallow trenches in the sand. The boy shushed him gently as he ran the ragged brush over the beast's hair, earning a slight snort.

"Come on! You loved to be brushed!"

The horse flared its nostrils and repeated the noise. He shook his neck, fluffing out his freshly brushed mane. Ryou stood back and put his hands on his hips as he regarded the animal with exasperation.

"You're making this difficult," he chided to the animal as he put the brush down near the shovel and bucket. He had already cleaned the area of feces, brought water, and gave him food, though he had yet to eat it. Normally the horse would be done eating before he even finished shoveling (this was another similarity he had with his owner), so Ryou grew worried.

He then pondered if the horse would like a treat. He smiled warmly at the pacing animal before he headed back to the hole. He slipped down the stairwell and went began digging around in the baskets, managing to find some lettuce, along with a pot of sugar. He grabbed a small wooden plate before he returned the horse shortly.

Ryou first offered the lettuce, though the horse didn't seem very interested. He gave it a sniff, a snort, and turned away. Ryou scowled, "Come on, now. What about the sugar?" He took the top off the pot and poured a bit onto the plate before nudging it to the horse. Again, the beast seemed disinterested.

The boy gave a sigh of defeat, walked over to a nearby stone, flopped down and began eating the sugar himself. He had yet to eat today, so he eagerly snacked on the sweet substance.

Suddenly, the horse bucked and neighed, startling Ryou. His heart rate excelled as he set the plate and lettuce aside and jumped up, trying to figure out what had bothered the horse. The beast was as brave as his owner, so for something to startle him of course Ryou was worried. He fiddled with his tunic nervously, his eyes anxiously surveying the area for signs of danger.

Leaving the horse to its pacing, Ryou rushed back to the underground chamber, not wanting to risk a confrontation with whatever had spooked the beast. It could be anything from a pack of hyenas to a patrol of soldiers. Given his experience, he would pick hyenas over soldiers any day. He rushed down the stairs, nearly slipping on the cold stones in his haste.

Bakura was near one of the tables when Ryou sailed in. His brother looked irritated out his loud, clumsy entrance. He looked as if he were about to say something nasty, but he noticed Ryou's obvious distress and instead asked, "What happened?"

Ryou shook his head worriedly, not entirely sure himself. "The horse just began getting upset over something... I just got scared."

His brother, of course, scoffed and meandered back over to the bed and sat down. His brother looked noticeably better; he had eaten enough for some fat to return to his face and limbs. He was able to leave the chamber to relieve himself (before he had to use a broken pot, which Ryou to empty) and remain awake for most of the day, though he chose to spend the time eating and sleeping.

"What were you doing anyways?" Ryou asked, referring to when Bakura had been standing goalless in the middle of the room.

"None of your business."

Ryou narrowed his eyes when he heard a dingle come from beneath Bakura's tunic. "What was –"

"Nothing."

"But –"

A glare cut him off. Arguing with Bakura was always such a fruitless endeavor. He sighed and flopped back against the bed next to his brother.

"...You stink like horse shit."

…

It had been the middle of the night when their host burst into the chamber. Ryou hadn't been asleep for once; he was still anxious from the horse situation. He sat up, watching their host with curious eyes as he scrambled into the room.

"Wake your brother and get out of here," the man hissed as he pulled a bag off his person and began shoving his treasures into it.

Bakura was already rousing, though Ryou shook him anyway.

"Efendim, why do we need to leave?" Ryou squeaked, watching the man move about.

"It's dangerous to be here. Besides, your brother is well enough to move about on his own. You two should have left the second he was better."

Ryou was scared as he jumped off the bed. "Don't send us out there, yet!" He begged, his eyes wide with fright.

The man paid him no mind as he swept around the room, collecting his gems and jewels. Ryou clenched at his tunic, fidgeting in his spot as he struggled to find pleading words.

Bakura was awake now. He looked groggy as he looked around the room. "What's going on?" He grumbled.

"Nothing's going on. It's just time to leave."

His brother sensed the man's urgency and narrowed his eyes. "What happened?"

Bakura didn't get a reply, though his movements faltered. Chrome eyes smoldered as they darted around the table had had just cleared. He then looked up at Bakura.

Their cool gazes met. Bakura was the first to move; he smirked and began sauntering towards the exit. "Come Ryou, we're leaving."

Ryou whimpered and raced after his brother. "B-but we can't –"

Bakura sent him a glare laced with so much malice it forced him to stay his tongue. He lowered his head and followed his brother up the stairs and out into the open. It was night, so Ryou struggled to see as he weaved between the stones that hid the entrance.

"There! I see someone moving!"

Ryou's blood ran cold when he heard the distant shout. It reminded too much of what had happened not so long ago. He grabbed for the back of his brother's tunic and put his face into his back, his whole body quivering.

"Quit sniveling, Ryou!" Bakura hissed as he halted and crouched behind a rock. "They're going to hear us."

Ryou tried to force his down his hiccups and cries, his eyes beginning to go red with tears. They remained there for a few moments before Bakura gestured for them to move again.

"Are you sure? I don't see anybody!"

"Fool! It may be the Thief King. The likelihood you'll actually see him is incredibly low."

"'Thief King'. I wonder if they're referring to that bastard," Bakura muttered as he guided Ryou through the ruins.

Ryou peered out and saw the patrol of soldiers not too far away. Their cruel faces and massive war horses made him frightened. Another whimper threatened to escape him, though he managed to hold it in.

One of them glanced towards him. He gasped and lowered his head, though he wasn't fast enough.

"There! Over there!"

"Idiot!" Bakura snarled as he grabbed Ryou's arm and dragged him out into the open. They raced through the sand in the direction of the city, though the clambering of horse hooves told him that running was a futile effort. Ryou whipped his head back to see the patrol practically on top of them. Swords flashing, eyes gleaming, the boy cried out and shut his eyes, fearing death was moments away.

There was a second, then a clang of sword on sword. He peeled his eyes open to see their host on Ma'at blocking the soldiers from getting to them. He had a sword raised, and one of the soldiers laid in the sand, a puddle of blood forming around him. The other soldiers were holding their whinnying horses back, their swords posed for attack.

"Get on! Now!"

The command gave no room for argument as Ryou raced forward clambered onto the horse. It was an effort, especially with his trembling fingers, but he eventually managed. Bakura jumped onto the horse behind him in a swift motion, and they were off.

Ryou secured his arms around the man's waist and buried his face into the back of his crimson robe. He didn't want to watch what was happening, though he still heard it. The patrol of horses were following them. The man spat vicious insults as he spurred his horse to go faster. Bakura was clinging to him, ordering their savior to go faster.

"They're catching up to us! Make this damn animal to go faster!"

"Shut your bratty mouth before I push you off and leave you to be trampled."

"We're all going to be trampled if you don't get a move on!"

"I will not be ordered around by a little kid, so stay your tongue."

"I'm not a little kid!"

Their arguing only succeeded in stressing Ryou further, though he was also relieved to hear the clambering of the patrol was quieting, signaling that they were being outrun. He breathed easily and buried his face deeper into the robe, wanting to forget that they almost died for the third time in a matter of weeks.

Eventually, the two stopped arguing, and all was quiet except for the lulling beat of the horse's hooves hitting the sand.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews, follows and favorites. I'll try and update this weekly. There will likely be 6-8 chapters.

(1) Ma'at is the God of justice. Just a random name I asked my friend for, so I'm not sure if it was used elsewhere. It's a good name, even if TK isn't religious.