Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh, any Yugioh characters or 'Lamashtu'
Author notes: A conversational chapter . . .of sorts. Updating will be somewhat slower due to the injury-prone nature of this unfortunate author :(
The River of Thought
He could feel her presence, gently roiling around his reclining form, mingling with the first rays of dawn. It was the sweet-sour reek of a decomposing corpse, strangely attractive and yet so vile. Eyes snapping open, he beheld her bulky, grotesque form in the deeper shade beneath the cedar trees at the far side of the clearing in which he had chosen to make his camp. In the ever-growing daylight, her featureless, amorphous mass focused, bringing her odious characteristics to full view. With renewed disgust did he observe the leonine head, too massive for the hunched, hairy body, the stringy arms, so full of unholy strength born of another world altogether, the plate-like ass's teeth projecting above her drooping lower lip, the monstrous hawk-like feet plated with scales and the razor sharp talons, flexing out to carress the air as the slack mouth widened in a smile of feral glee.
So, my Thief, you have killed the Watcher? You bring the wrath of the Gods upon your own head. A horse laugh escaped her, swiftly ended when Bakura continued to lie upon the upturned tree trunk, apparently unconcerned by her presence. She saw the beautiful, shadowed eyes turn slightly to look upon her sideways through long, snowy eyelashes. She saw the flash of amusement. With a hiss of rage, she reared to her full height.
Do you forget who holds power over you? Who controls your every move, puny one?
As quick as she, he was upon his feet, a dangerous gleam behind the humour. "You hold power over me, you say? Why then, care to explain how you omitted to mention the Guardian of this forest to your faithful pawn?"
She was all honeyed words and smiles once more. You think I would purposefully place your life at risk, my sweet one?
"Ha!" Bakura threw back his head and barked a humourless laugh. "Are you implying that this wasn't your idea of a test? To see how far my strength and skill would take you, demoness?"
Not in the slightest, dear heart. I would never willingly hurt you, you are far too precious to me. You slight my honour by suggesting such a thing.
"Indeed. That also being the reason you neglected to mention that the very man who I wish to see the least is residing within those walls!"
He gestured in the direction of the stepped sides of the towering ziggurat who's peak showed just above the tree-tops half a mile from where Bakura had made his camp. Lowering his voice to a venemous whisper, he advanced on her slowly, darkness visible only to himself and the demoness stretching behind him like an ominous whip.
"Is there a reason for that too, or has your generous store of excuses run out already?"
I had no idea you had already scouted Nergal's temple, she said smoothly, seeming to accept the Thief's dangerous proximity, Well done indeed, my love. I have no concept of how fast you work, you see? And in answer to your question, the High Priest you seem so anxious to avoid is kept prisoner in that temple, not through his own free will did he come to be there.
She watched Bakura's slightly startled expression morph into thoughtfulness with satisfaction. "Prisoner, you say?"
Oh, how she loved the twisted paths his mind took. Captive of the Brothers of Holy Enlightenment. They wish to use your foe to harness the great energy lying dormant within the item I seek.
Bakura frowned, his eyes pinning her down, "Use him? How would they accomplish that?"
It is said that the power of the item can only be initiated by one who sees truth and accepts this as part of his being. There is something greater, what it is even I do not know, that this object presents the chosen one with. He must first pass their test in order to look upon it, and when he does, the control over this will be his to command.
"That makes no sense, demoness. If Seth is to be used to look upon this item, then the power is his, as you say. What do these 'brothers' hope to acheive by this?"
They have their ways and means, lovely Thief. Do not think that the centuries spent in search of this knowledge have been wasted. They will obtain what the object offers, whether Seth is the vessel or not.
"Then I have little time, demoness. Tell me what I need to find and what this object is, or it will soon be beyond either of our reach. And I would appreciate it . . ." he narrowed his gleaming eyes once more, "if you produced less surprises this time."
She laughed, reaching out to stroke his cheek with a clawed finger, elation growing at his stony face. Soon, soon beautiful one, you will not look on me with such repulsion . . .
I will do no such thing, she said aloud, Do you think me completely without compassion? If you doubt me, look upon that on which you stand.
Stepping backwards, Bakura shifted so that the sunlight fell onto the smooth pebbles under his feet. They looked strangely bleached, as if all colour had been drained from their surfaces. Hairline cracks extended across some of the domes, which were much smaller than others . . .
His face contorted in an unknown emotion when he realised what it was. "This . . .this . . ."
A soft cackling reached his ears and Bakura looked up, the vast, alien desire in her eyes sending a chill down his spine. He knew now that he had not chosen this place to rest by some accidental impulse. Thousands of human skulls, mostly of young children and infants were embedded one above the other to create a basin that probably extended many feet below the ground, and he was standing directly in the centre of this macabre celebration of bitterness. Lamashtu's feeding ground.
You spent a safe night here, she crooned, No forest creature or any other could have touched you in my sanctuary. You see, my heart, I do look after my own . . .now, enough of that. Come closer, I have much to tell you . . .
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Seth drew his limbs closer, ignoring the sunlight pouring in through the bars of his newly acquired and far more spacious quarters. Five brothers of the temple stood guard outside, slowly patrolling lest he try some means of escape. The Millenium Rod was far beyond his reach, he could not even feel the small, steady flow of shadow magic.
Why? Why that? How is this my destiny? Hands clenching convulsively on the coarse robes he had been provided with, Seth's brow furrowed, the only outward indication he would ever give of his emotional turmoil. I have strength, I have pride, I have purpose . . .the mantra that had been circulating in his mind for most of his captivity period after he had read that fateful tablet. But all was futile. More and more senseless the more he repeated it. Why?
He did not know the nature of his coming ordeal. To be unprepared was a strange feeling to one who had always placed such value on control, on perfection, on acheivement of ideals. Against his better judgement, his thoughts drifted back to the test, the destruction of the village, the boy . . .
Help . . .please help me . . .
Agony that was almost physical lanced through the High Priest's mind. How? How did we commit such atrocity? When did I begin to defend that which caused such great suffering?
He bowed his head once more. My truth, my enemy, what have we created in you? How can I face you now that I know that everything you have become, the evil you brought, the lives you have taken, are a stain on my hands as much as they are on yours?
A faint sound from the bars over the single window echoed hollowly in the almost empty room. Head snapping up, Seth beheld something which made him turn white to the lips, his shaking arms falling slackly to his sides. There, framed by the softly stealing light of dawn, was a shock of white hair and a pair of lazily amused slate-blue eyes.
"Well, well, well. Fallen on hard times, have we not, High Priest?"
A strange feeling this, this sense of simply watching what his body did, the words his mouth responded with, utterly powerless to stop himself.
"Bakura!"
"Indeed, it is I," The head at the window cocked to the side slightly while a devious grin parted the lips, "You sound almost pleased to see me. Any particular reason for that?"
Seth was silent. He would never dream of asking Bakura for assistance of any kind. How on earth did he end up here? And how did he know where to find me? A cold feeling spread throughout his body. This is no coincidence . . .it cannot be . . .
"Ah, still so full of pride. You have but to ask me, you know."
Seth stirred his numbed mind with effort. "How did you come to be here, Thief?"
He was glad that Bakura could not see his entire face in the dim light of the chamber. His voice must have given something away though, for Bakura assumed a speculative air, the luminous eyes seeking to penetrate his adversary's emotional shield.
"I never thought that a group of incompetent fools such as these would ever be able to break your spirit, High Priest. Don't tell me . . .," he paused in mock thought, "Ah, yes, those shackles you wear. Resistant to shadow magic, I presume?"
"You haven't answered my question. What are you doing here and how did you find me?"
"I always find the things I seek, dear friend. Or more precisely, the item I require."
Seth's eyes narrowed immediately. "To sate your curiosity, Thief, I no longer possess the Rod. It is in the hands of my captors. Maybe you should waste your time elsewhere."
He turned abruptly from the window, only to be rewarded with a soft chuckle. He gritted his teeth. Bakura could not possibly know the effort it was costing him to speak out loud, to interact with the very subject of his thoughts, the face which haunted his every dream.
"I have a proposition for you," the voice was as cocky as ever, but there was something underlying it. Seth turned partially to show that Bakura had at least a portion of his attention.
"I am going to steal the object of power that the priests of this temple possess," was the blunt statement which took Seth completely off guard. He snapped around fully, eyes watching Bakura carefully.
"You no doubt refer to the Rod? That will not avail you to any end, Bakura, and you know it. The Rod must choose you in order for you to wield it."
Another snigger. "You are mistaken yet again. I refer to something . . .other than the Rod. Your friends won't be pleased. You will become dispensable, High Priest . And that is something I cannot have."
Curiosity overcame guilt and dislike. "Why? And how do you know of any other object within this temple?"
The Thief held his gaze for a few seconds, something dark passing like a fleeting shadow behind his flippant stare. "All in good time. You have the answers I seek. Only by another Shadow Game, and only with you as an opponent, can I understand what has happened to my Ka."
Seth was baffled by this, but kept his face carefully blank. "Your Ka has been sealed away. There is nothing you can do."
"You lie," hissed in sudden fury, "I feel him there, he is ever-present, just beyond my reach. But no fear, he will be returned to me soon. But simply regaining my strength is not the only thing which concerns me. I need to understand what was done. You hold the key, and I will find it."
Seth lowered his head so that his chin rested on his chest to conceal his worry. Regain his Ka? That's not possible. And then he recalled the mangled bodies of the guards within the cell, the terror of Sin-nasir, the robbery at the tavern, how easily he himself had been found . . .There is some other power at work here.
"Your Pharoah is not here to console you, mighty Priest. There are other ways to obtain benefits, however . . ."
Once, not so long ago, but ages since to Seth, he would have bristled, challenged Bakura, shamed him for offering such insults. That ever-gnawing doubt that ate his very soul chose this inopportune moment to re-surface, however, and he hurriedly turned away from those hateful, accusing eyes. "You will find no solace here, Thief. I have nothing to offer you. Begone, before somebody hears you."
A sudden silence greeted this and Seth almost felt Bakura's uncertainty. "You wish to remain here and be killed when I offer you a chance at freedom and a shadow game? Where is your pride, High Priest? You were sent here to track me, were you not? You would turn down an opportunity I so freely provide?"
A split second and his mind was made up. With difficulty, Seth rose from his seat and approached the heavy iron bars bracketing the small window. He had made a decision in the short time during which Bakura had appeared, one that had only fully formed when Bakura had spoken of the other item of great strength. There was something more at stake here, something bigger, and he knew it. Mortal lives were of no consequence to the higher powers at play in this game, and he had to think of things as such.
"Bakura, take heed of what I say to you."
The Thief looked momentarily taken aback, not simply due to the grave tone that Seth had adopted, but also the fact that one of his mortal enemies had addressed him by name with no aspersions cast.
"I wish for freedom, as do you, as does any man. But I am willing to risk my duty in this country, seeking and capturing you, for the more important task at hand." He took a breath, meeting the Thief's incredulous gaze with one of great fortitude. "You must take the Millenium Rod. And you must use it."
A short silence greeted this followed by the heaving motion of Bakura's shoulders as he doubled over in silent laughter. "You take me for a complete imbecile, High Priest? Has this confinement bereft you of your senses? You are no doubt aware that you yourself just reminded me of the Rod's dormancy in the hands . . ."
"I am aware," interrupted Seth abruptly. He had heard a noise from outside the cell and urgency made its way into his voice. "But the Rod will not remain dormant in your possession if I hand it over willingly."
Again, Bakura was startled into silence. His shaded eyes widened ever so slightly and Seth had the momentary impression of a man, not a monster, the man Bakura should have been. Another wrench, this time lasting. Bakura was watching Seth's internal strife with utter confusion, his disbelief and scepticism grossly apparent.
"Willingly?" barely a whisper.
Seth met his gaze, almost branding his enemy with his own intensity, the man he had hated with every fibre of his being, to comprehend his honesty, the thing he would never say to him, the thing he had seen . . .
"Yes. Willingly, Bakura. I will never challenge you again, to a shadow game or otherwise. That you must accept. My principles will not allow it . . ." he broke off, breathing hard. "You have never displayed concern for those you have oppressed in the past. I can only hope that there is more to your soul than self-preservation. If not, then you will obtain the Millenium Rod, and regain your Ka monster if all that you say is true. You stand to benefit from this either way."
He was greeted with another silence, the Thief's face a mask of concealed emotion. Seth prayed silently, the noises outside growing in volume.
Finally, "What is your proposition, Seth?"
The High Priest met the Thief's eyes once again, his long fingers wrapping with strength enough to leave behind impressions in the cold metal despite his weakened state. "Then hear me, as one man to another. Forget nothing I say to you."
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A strange sense of calm had descended. But surely, this is why I have been chosen? This is why I have not been driven mad. I accept what you are and my part in it. I know truth and, above all, I understand it.
It was a blazing blue gaze which met the oncoming rays of the sun, the pinched, drawn profile exposing the inner man in all the splendour of his soul, the honour and beauty of a steel blade, flexible, hard and stronger in reflection of the brilliant rays than a pane of polished glass. But whatever it is I have seen, I am the man I was made to be. I will not compromise. There are principles to be followed, there is a justice to be served. Retribution must come, but not only to the Thief. As strange as my captors may be, as twisted their ideals, they have some glimmerings of the larger picture. Truth is, indeed, beauty, and that is my calling.