Hello hello! I'm rewriting In A Name: Act I, and from 23 December 2023 you'll be able to find the rewrite as a brand new story on my solo account, Captain Meowneith (formerly Ataahua). I'm keeping this story up on FFN as I figure some OG readers may enjoy coming back to this fic for nostalgia's sake, but if you're a new reader I urge you to check out the rewrite instead of reading this fic. If you do decide to read this fic as well, just know that it isn't complete and never will be. As far as In A Name goes, my focus is solely on the rewrite now. :)
Welcome to the In A Name series!
We have just a few things to cover before you get into it:
Firstly, Act I of this series is co-authored by Ataahua and The Duelist's Heiress.
Secondly, the summary wasn't kidding about this being a S-L-O-W-B-U-R-N. It feels VERY necessary when the series starts with an unrepented Marik. As much as we love him, it's safe to say a healthy relationship would be almost impossible for him pre and immediately after Battle City.
Last of all, we've named the A'isha x Marik ship "Actshipping" for reasons that'll become increasingly clear as the series progresses. To tie into this, IAN will ultimately be comprised of three books, which we're calling acts. Act I takes place before Battle City, while Act II takes place during and in the months after it, and Act III takes place several years after it.
Without further ado, we hope you enjoy the ride that is In A Name!
IN A NAME: ACT I
By Ataahua and The Duelist's Heiress
Prologue
He scanned the report in search for a name, surprised at his own self-control considering something hadn't gone according to plan. Whoever had transcribed this needed to work on their penmanship.
He'd already found his own name. That was the problem.
A smirk crossed his face as he found the one responsible for the Freudian slip. He set the report aside to finger a golden object, his hypnotic voice echoing with a lightly malicious rasp. "Bring Micheas to the Throne Room."
Beneath the shadows of a mauve hood, a cloaked figure glared down his nose at the trembling buffoon prostrated before him. Michaes crawled closer, sweat slick on his brow. Three marble steps were all that separated him from the figure on the golden throne.
"It was a – a – a slip of the tongue!" His eyes darted everywhere save for that lavender stare. "I – I di-didn't mean for—"
"It doesn't matter." A cruel smirk curled across the figure's lips. "Someone who has avoided conviction as many times as you have should know that a mere slip of the tongue makes all the difference."
"P-Please, Master!" Michaes pressed his face to the marble floor, veins flaring in his wide-eyed gaze. "It-It won't happen again!"
An ominous chuckle echoed off empty walls. "You're right, you fool." With narrowed eyes, the figure raised a golden sceptre, the unblinking eye engraved upon it glowing ever brighter. "I'll make certain of that."
"No!" Michaes lurched upright, tears flying from his eyes. "Master! PLEASE—"
Agonised screams tore through the cavernous room, every corner and crevice engulfed by blinding light. When it faded, allowing darkness to re-emerge, Michaes slumped to the floor.
Still.
Soulless.
He was gone.
The figure traced a thumb across the golden eye on the sceptre. "One should know the cost of an infamous slip of the tongue."
Seconds later, another cloaked figure stepped out from the shadows to bow before him. "Master Marik, should we dispatch a team after the girl?"
"No, Odion." Glee flashed in Marik's eyes. "I have something far more entertaining in mind."