In order that I not fall into the trap of a deus ex machina, I established the BEWD as a solution to this story's conflicts pretty much as soon as I came up with it. I wish I had been able to work this in at the beginning, but I had no idea how the story would end up when I started it.
Most of the ideas I had, originally, for the ending of this particular tale have been scrapped entirely.
.
Kisara stepped into the warehouse where a man had died not so long ago, and where a new man now sat cuffed to a chair. She did not bring security operatives in suits with her, but two knights wrapped in black robes. Sieglinde and Anri took up their stances to either side of their queen without instruction and stood like statues with their hands clasped behind their backs.
Kisara pulled up a second chair and sat.
Daimon's blood still stained the table between them.
"I am going to extract information from you one way or another," she said, "and whether you suffer through it is entirely up to you. Answer my questions, truthfully, and we can be done with it. Lie to me, or remain silent, and I will use much more dangerous methods. I cannot guarantee your safety if you elect the second option. This is my proposal. The only choice I am affording you. Make it."
The stranger actually smiled at her. "In what universe," he rasped, "am I ever going to take orders from you?"
Kisara shook her head. "All right." She snapped one finger against her thumb. Sieglinde and Anri strode forward and each took hold of the stranger by arm and shoulder. Kisara stood, cast the table aside with the casualness of batting a fly away from her face, and stepped forward. She placed one finger on the stranger's forehead, just above his eyes.
He strained against the knights, suddenly realizing the danger he was in, but their grips were iron.
"Suffer me."
Ancient magic, magic older than time, arced through the man's entire body. He slumped forward, eyes open but unseeing, mouth hanging open. Sieglinde and Anri held him up, lest he slump down to the floor.
"What was your purpose in coming here?" Kisara asked.
"To kill the master's child," the stranger slurred, barely coherent.
"Which child? Give me a name."
"Mokuba-sama."
"For what purpose were you meant to kill Mokuba Kaiba?"
"The master needs his blood to do his magic."
Kisara's eyes narrowed. The knights spared a glance at her, but otherwise did not react. "What purpose did your master intend for this magic? What spell did he task you with casting?"
"I was to use Mokuba-sama's blood to forge a portal. The master was to use the portal to come here himself. The master tires of our failure. He is determined to see his work completed."
"Mokuba Kaiba does not share Gozaburo Kaiba's blood. Why did he intend for a loop to be forged this way?"
"Mokuba-sama does share blood with the master's chosen heir," said the stranger. "The master's heir is a puppet, without consciousness or will of his own, and he will finally be put to his proper purpose: bringing about the master's ambitions."
Kisara crossed her arms over her chest "Does Gozaburo Kaiba intend to make an aetheric transference? Will he use Seto Kaiba's body as his own? Will he abandon his flesh and his name?"
"Yes."
"Have you heard this directly from Gozaburo Kaiba?"
"No," said the stranger. "The master's court magician explained this magic to us."
The queen's brow furrowed. "Court magician?" she asked, incredulously.
"A joke," said the stranger, "among the house staff. The master has brought in a youth who understands magic and its ways. He has been guiding the master in these affairs. It is he who explains particulars to us. What we must do, and the materials we need."
"What is this magician's name?"
"I do not know. I have never seen his face, nor heard his name. That is why we call him the court magician. We don't know what else to call him."
Kisara scowled. "Damn it."
"If he does not answer you in this state," Sieglinde said, "then he truly doesn't know. He cannot defy you."
Kisara nodded. She waved a hand. "We're done here." She reached over, gripped the table, and slid it to its proper place. She placed her finger on the stranger's forehead again, loosed the power in her blood again, and turned away toward the door.
Sieglinde and Anri followed her.
"That's it? Giving up so quick?!" the stranger called after them. "Pathetic! Where's your big words?! Where's your—"
Anri turned back and watched the stranger choke on his words, then collapse. He crumpled to the floor, quite thoroughly unconscious. As Anri shut the door, he said: "The magic you utilized did not seem to be especially dangerous, Your Grace. Why did you tell him that you could not guarantee his safety?"
"I can't," Kisara growled. "Whether or not he wakes up again is thoroughly down to him. My power has, effectively, set fire to his synapses. Can he survive that? I suppose we will find out." She didn't sound particularly concerned, and the twins couldn't blame her.
"I see," said Anri, bowing his head.
"Come," Kisara said. "We need to let the ghost know he was right."