They say that trouble comes in threes. Apparently awesome things also come in threes, when the stars are aligned properly.
Point the first: this is the finale for Book Two of "Cult of the Dragon King." This book's entire focus was integrating magic fully and fundamentally into the plot, as well as setting the main conflicts in motion.
Point the second: this chapter crosses the line, making this story the fourth on my profile to reach 100,000 words. That's always struck me as not only a substantial number, but kind of a magical one as well. It's the point at which a work becomes what I like to call a Behemoth. I'm rather proud to induct this work into the club.
Point the third: I have been posting on this website for 11 years. I've grown as a person and as a writer, and it's all thanks to this community, and the glorious worlds that wonderfully talented authors and artists have created, which this medium allows us to explore on our own terms. With this chapter, I cross another line.
Across 41 projects in those 11 years, as of today, the twenty-seventh day of May, 2013, I have published 1,000,000 words on this website.
This is . . . mind-boggling. I have no idea how to reconcile that.
But here's something I do know: it's only fitting for this momentous milestone to occur with this project. This story is my oldest; it's been in my mind the longest. It's probably the most fulfilling for me, as a person.
Thank you for sharing this with me. Thank you so much.
Now, then . . . let's get started.
Verse One.
He had the Millennium Rod clutched in one fist, as though it had fused with his skin and was trapped there.
Seto Kaiba, ghastly and defiant, laughed through the pain. The spirit of Seti was burning through his flesh, twisting his guts into knots, taking full possession of the body he had claimed as his in the most agonizing—and permanent—manner possible.
Yet still, Seto remained resolute. He rose to his feet, holding his arms out for his crucifixion, and laughed at the ceiling. He stumbled back a step, and screeched: "Shine upon us, you gods! Show us your greatness! Show these children why you are worthy of worship!"
Little Mokuba was as pale as a sheet, trembling, whimpering, hands hovering near his ears like he thought he could drown out these terrible sounds. He kept repeating his brother's pet-name, "Niisama…Niisama…Niisama…" as terrified tears ran down his cheeks.
Even when pressed to his own oblivion, Seto Kaiba was a born showman. He gestured grandly, and even though his face was a terror, it was one which could not be denied, could not be undone. It was a face that would haunt them for years.
His voice was a bonfire, blazing from his lips:
"YOUR SERVANT CALLS ME PATHETIC! BUT WHO IS IT THAT SENDS PITIFULLY INEPT SOLDIERS TO DELIVER THEIR MESSAGES?! WHO ENTRUSTS THEIR WILL TO SUCH A LAUGHABLE FAILURE AS THIS?! WATCH YOUR CHILD, YOU GODS, AS HE SLAMS THE DOOR AGAINST YOU!"
Seto tossed his head back and shrieked with laughter, and a lick of fire sparked at the hem of his coat. His image seemed to waver like a mirage in the desert as he howled.
Mokuba scrambled backward, sobbing for his brother.
Seti's head snapped back down, suddenly wearing a cold, composed face, and regarded the boy almost fondly. "…You want your father…boy? You want his arms to shelter you? To comfort you? You wish for his body to shield you? Bow your head, blasphemer. Lower your eyes! Bow to me! Beg me! We shall see if I am feeling merciful." Mokuba did not move. He was too frightened to move. He stared up at the man who puppet-stringed his hero and cried.
"On your knees!" Seti screamed.
The air itself hardened, and slammed into the child's back, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Seto's head fell forward. "You see…gods? Spirits? You see how your harbinger wastes his efforts? How he countermands you? Watch, you gods, while he unravels your tapestry with his petty theatrics."
"Silence, dog!" The words tore their way out of Seti's throat. "I will have you watch this! Watch in silence! Watch as your false idol learns his place!"
Seti's hand lifted the Millennium Rod, and the air forced Mokuba's head down to the floor.
The spirit-possessed man in the flaming trench coat swung his weapon down. Its freed blade, molten silver in the wavering air, shot downward; lightning painted by a madman was flung down toward the child's neck.
A crash of shattered glass, skittering footfalls like shell casings in a warzone.
The Millennium Rod's glinting blade sank deep, and drank blood from Noa Kaiba's arm, held up in front of his statue's face and his executioner's eyes; and beneath them, a death-like smile curved his lips.
Noa whirled, sending one outstretched leg slamming into his adoptive sibling's midriff and sending man, spirit, and golden destroyer flying across the room.
The middle Kaiba brother stood straight, and slowly began removing his shirt. He stared, distastefully, at the rip in his formerly-white sleeve. He tossed the offending article away. The man's chest was bare, and did not seem to move even when he breathed. If he breathed.
His aqua-green hair was like swamp-fire, cradled in the light let in through the shattered window which had been his portal into the room. He took one, deliberate, step forward. His body shielded Mokuba from seeing the crumpled heap of a heretic his brother had become.
Noa said:
"You, who would force a Kaiba to kneel: pray. Pray with all the earnestness you have. Let us see if your gods will protect you from me."
Verse Two.
Before Yami could even find words, Noa said, "Unless you are opening your mouth to force this wretch from my sight, stifle yourself. Your gods have no place here, and your magic has failed us for the last time. If you would think to place yourself into this arena as anything more than subservient then you, like your cousin, will die today."
Yami blinked, then nodded firmly. "Of course, Master Kaiba. In this, I am yours. Please, permit me to end this blasphemous display."
Noa glared white-hot daggers into Yami's heart, and nodded. "Do it, then. Now." He turned to the men who had been flanking Mokuba before. "Get out. Were it not for me, you would be watching Mokuba Kaiba bleed out on the floor right now."
The men knew better than to speak. They bowed their heads, and left the room.
Rishid Ishtar had sneaked up behind Seto Kaiba's body and was wresting it still, while it struggled under Seti's influence to escape his grasp. The big man was strong, but he was losing ground quickly. He looked at Noa desperately.
Noa gestured. "Let him go. It is not your job to defend my family. I do not hold you to it."
Rishid let Seto go, nodded, and disappeared. Joey, Téa, and Tristan followed in a mad scramble for safety.
Kay Mayer did not move.
Seto shot forward, screaming, but Noa was too fast. The green-haired man leaped into the air, twisted, and crashed onto his adoptive sibling's back, pinning him to the floor. Reaching out, he gripped Seto's arms and held them up, behind his back. "This woman who stands here in this room. She is important to you." Seti stopped his thrashing. "You do not know her, but she is important to you. Continue to threaten the lives of those important to me, and she will be the first to die."
"…You wouldn't dare!"
Noa leaned close. "I'll rip her hair out and stuff it down her throat," he whispered. "I'll tear open her skull and drink her blood from it. I'll take her limbs and twist them into a fucking pretzel." His voice was cold, with no inflection. "I'll take that goddamned hunk of gold in your hand and fuck her with it."
Miraculously, Kay's face remained stoic, composed; she even managed to look amused.
"Be silent! You sniveling insect! I'll submit you to horrors you can't conceive of! You dare not touch her!"
Noa tilted his head to the side and smiled. "…You're adorable."
Seti's voice continued to screech, until Yami finally stepped forward. With absolute nonchalance, he knelt down, and put a hand on the man's forehead.
The world imploded.
Verse Three.
Yugi Mutou was suddenly alone in his own body. The spirit of the king was gone, vanished, and the Millennium Puzzle was just a hunk of metal hanging from his neck.
He turned around, surveying the room. Noa still stood, a statue in the waning light, his eyes blank and unmoving from his elder's crumpled body. Mokuba was sobbing in his chair, hunkered over with his face in his little hands.
Yugi watched Kay Mayer—Kisara—step over with a slow, trance-like gait and put a hand on the child's quivering shoulder. Mokuba flinched violently, and looked up like he expected something horrible to meet him.
Kay's face was gentle, but unnatural. When she spoke, it seemed to be with two—no, three—voices, intermingled in quiet harmony: "Don't be afraid. Everything will be fine." Mokuba stared up at the young woman, confused, frightened, licking at his lips. "I know it's scary," Kay said, "but your brother will win. Your brother always wins…doesn't he?" Kay smiled. It was not her own smile but someone, or something, else's; Yugi felt confident in saying that.
The white-haired woman knelt down, and held out her arms. "Come here, little one," she whispered, and Mokuba collapsed against her. Kay Mayer hugged the boy as tenderly as any mother, stroking back his hair. "It'll be okay," she whispered. "Everything will be okay. Shhh…"
Noa turned his head slightly, acknowledging the affair behind him, and allowed an inkling of a smile onto his face.
His eyes, though, never left Seto.
Verse Four.
Atemhotep did not wear Yugi Mutou's face, or his clothes, or his body. He was sheathed in liquid light, without eyes, without ears, without a mouth. His arms, tongues of white fire, spread out before him, and Seti was thrown backward, off of his feet, with all the effort of an involuntary muscle spasm.
The light extinguished, and the man returned. Yami rubbed his arms, grimacing, and rolled his neck before settling his eyes onto his cousin. He said, "So many things you have said to him, to your successor, I have said to you. Talk of patience, and duty. Talk of powers that cannot be denied. Talk of gods."
He strode forward, his shoes clacking against the marble floor of Seto Kaiba's soul room. They beat like a metronome; slow, then faster, then faster and faster, until Yami finally reached the figure of his cousin and grabbed him up by the collar of the robe he wore, flinging him up against the wall.
"Before me, you are merely a priest," Yami hissed. "The time has passed by for your grievances. You are no longer permitted to take matters to hand. Your chance is passed. He is the one whose path is unfurling. Yours fell off into forgotten history centuries upon centuries ago."
Seti tried to speak, but his voice would not come. His lips moved, his throat worked, but he could not summon words.
"You are not Seto Kaiba, and he is not you. He does not own you, nor you him. The gods have called for Kaiba, not you. You are the servant here. You are expendable."
Seti's glare could have frozen a summer day.
Yami did not flinch. He did, however, glance off to one side, quirk an eyebrow, and smile. The ground shook beneath his feet. Lightning pealed in the distance. He said, "It begins. Now, you will see the nature of these events."
Seti was tossed aside, and Yami turned to Seto, still shackled to the wall of his soul room by Seti's glowing serpent, which had its fangs sunk deep into the young executive's throat. Seto's eyes were wide, betraying an agony beyond mortal description, but he was aware. His lips parted, and he gurgled. Even this wordless cry of pain carried with it a flare of indignant anger.
Yami snapped his fingers.
The serpent vanished, and Seto collapsed to his knees. Breathing harshly, coughing up blood, he immediately set to putting his feet beneath him. Here was a man who refused to stay kneeling for long. He swayed, stumbled, and fell against the wall behind him.
Yami sighed heavily. "Time has not been kind to my cousin. He is unable to remain in check, when faced with a man who refuses to take him at his word; a man like you, who sees no worth in his work. Who must be convinced of all things, whose standards have no time nor place for his devotion to holy missions. It seems, Kaiba, that I have failed again. I did not see my cousin for the angry, embittered poltergeist that he is capable of being, and because of it, your bloodline has been put in jeopardy."
Seto glared hotly at the king for a moment before turning his attention to Seti, who was just managing to reclaim his footing.
"If it is any consolation to you," Yami said, "know that your work has begun. Your family is as unified as any I have ever witnessed. That is the nature of my gifts. Unity. Strength in cooperation. Once I thought you were my polar opposite in this. But then…to think, once I trusted the advice of the fool you see behind me, thinking to murder me with a device I granted to him."
Seti, who held the Millennium Rod up with its blade exposed, was blown backward by a blast of air.
Seto actually found the remnants of his old smirk. "…It would seem I owe you, Mutou. Yet again."
Yami chuckled. "You must be exhausted, Kaiba, to say such things."
Seto raised an eyebrow. "I must be," he said, then he collapsed.
Verse Five.
When Yami came back, Yugi was strangely relieved. It had been odd, having the gambler back, but as time went on he'd grown used to it. To have him disappear was frightening, and to have him come back with so much anger bleeding in him that it tautened Yugi's own muscles, was more frightening still.
He whispered, "…What happens now…?"
Seto Kaiba stumbled to his feet, but his eyes were icy. A smile rose on his face. "Well," he said. He adjusted his coat. "That will be quite enough of that." His voice was quiet, calm, and condescending. He looked at the others who shared a room with him: Yugi, the young man whose courage was tenuous but clear; Noa, the arrogant protector; Kisara, the white-haired woman with a dragon inside her; and Mokuba, the young prince, strong and capable until his beloved guardian left him.
Yugi looked up at Seti's face and smiled serenely. "Congratulations," he said, and Seti blinked at him. "You've won. Seti. I'm impressed. I didn't think anybody could beat Kaiba. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised." He waited, tilting his head thoughtfully. "But…I'm not sure if the others who are watching you right now are all that happy."
Seti smirked. "I know well that the homunculus hates me. He has made that quite clear. And Kisara, my dear Kisara, she will see the truth one day. As for the boy? I have no time for the boy."
"Obviously." Yugi gestured dismissively. "He's just a child. He's like me. What could he possibly do to you? I mean, I can't do anything against you. I don't have any way to fight you." He looked innocently up at the former king, lifting up his Puzzle. "Right?"
Seti scowled. "…You threaten me?"
"No," Yugi said. "I agree with you. Mokuba Kaiba is obviously beneath your concern. Worthless. Sniveling. He'll obviously never be anything important. True greatness is born that way. I mean, you came out of your mother fully grown and magnificent. Surely."
Seti's face twisted. "No. You do not threaten me. You mock me."
"When you were ten, you were already glorious. Right? Sure. You were already a king. Guiding men, protecting your land. Obviously you weren't still learning, because you knew everything already. Because you, unlike Mokuba, are important. You, unlike Mokuba, are relevant. Loved. Respected." Yugi turned to look at Mokuba, who had removed himself from Kisara's embrace and was standing next to Noa. His face was streaked with tears, but his eyes were dry now. "How dare you look him in the eye?" Yugi asked the boy mildly. "You're just a mundane child. You don't have money, or power, or influence, or knowledge or wisdom. You're a waste of space."
Mokuba found a smile. "…Oh," he said. "I should just kill myself now, and maybe my blood will please the glory of Seti I. He hasn't ruled anything for four thousand years, but obviously he's more important than me. He's so powerful."
"Be silent. Child."
Mokuba quirked an eyebrow. "You stole my brother from me. Why would I ever listen to you?"
"Be silent!"
"…No."
Seti flipped the Millennium Rod into his fist again. Before he could take a step forward, but not before Noa coiled his muscles and prepared to spring, lightning announced itself in the tiny room. Honest lightning. Searing their eyes, exploding with thunder in their ears.
The white-hot bolt slammed into Mokuba, and lit in his eyes.
When he spoke next, the sheer power of his voice—voices—drove the spirit of Seti I, wearing his descendant's skin, to his knees. Yugi and Kisara, too, fell. Only Noa remained standing.
The child said: This game is over.
Verse Six.
What part of the mission you were given involved delivering pain to these children?
The voices mingled, whirled, echoed, danced. Mokuba's eyes were glittering orbs of solid gold light, his face was taut and angry. His hands were curled into little fists at his sides. He stared directly into Seti, with an angry sneer on his young face that shouldn't have looked natural but did.
Kisara stood up, struggling to keep her feet, and stood behind the boy's right shoulder. Noa fell into place behind his left.
Seti stared. "…What…?"
Answer the question. What part of your mission involved harming these children?
"You…you cannot b—"
ANSWER THE QUESTION!
The boy's face did not change, did not shift in expression the faintest bit, but the voices grew so loud that they made Seti flinch backward as though pushed. A trickle of blood ran down from the eldest Kaiba's ears. His lips opened, but he found no words. Dawning comprehension lifted Seti's eyes, as he realized what this meant. Something triggered in him.
Mokuba crossed his arms.
…The one chosen to complete this work is the man called Seto Kaiba. You are not this man. You were brought up from your sleep to act as his guide. You were brought to him to help him. You have not done this. You have presumed to know our wishes, assumed that your ways are the expected ways, and that our agent must be tested first, and must do things as you decide. Do you think us stupid, priest? Do you think that we would deliver the Destroyer of Minds to his hands if we thought he needed to be trained? We have trained him for years! We have tempered him! We have watched him act as we wish him to act! You, priest, overstep the boundaries we so very clearly laid out for you.
Seti cried out, covered his ears, and his head fell to the floor.
"I…I-I…!"
Too often, and for too long, the spirits of those who are not part of this world have interfered with this. This is the last time any of them will do so, until the Golden Seven sleep again.
Mokuba held out his arm, pointing at Seti.
So I have decreed. So speaks Heru-pa-khered. This order will not be defied. Too many voices have informed you of your misdeeds, yet you refuse to hear. Do you hear mine…priest?
Seti's lips quivered. He did not raise his head from the floor. "…Yes. I hear your voice."
Will you heed this warning?
"I will."
The boy's head turned slightly, so that his eyes were locked on Yugi.
And you? Gambler?
Yami visited Yugi's eyes just long enough to bow his head. "I will heed your warning, my lord." He sounded quiet, humble, not at all like himself.
Mokuba nodded.
The boy collapsed in a dead faint.
Verse Seven.
As Seto removed his scorched, soot-covered, blood-drenched coat, he glared at the unconscious form of Mokuba, lying on the couch. The boy looked like he was sleeping peacefully, but that did nothing to cool the fire in his guardian's eyes.
Yugi sat nearby, head lowered, hands dangling between his knees. He said, "…Yami wants you to know that he's sorry his help wasn't enough to stop the gods from interfering." He gestured to Mokuba. "He…he knew you wouldn't appreciate it."
Seto's glare intensified as his eyes narrowed; his gaze was a blue, tempered blade. He hissed in reply: "…I don't want to hear it."
Yugi nodded. "I know."
Noa stood off to the side, near the door. He kept glancing out every couple of minutes. Once, he poked his head out and they heard him saying, "S'a'right, champ. We're keeping things in order. Keep an eye out for us, hm? Don't want any surprises. Let me know if you feel…something stirring."
Seto lifted his head as Noa stepped back inside and shut the door. "…Ryou Bakura?" he asked.
Noa blinked. "…Yeah. How'd you know? Did Mokuba tell you?"
Seto barked a laugh. "Mokuba didn't have a chance to tell me anything." He turned to regard his adoptive sibling. "I can feel the damned ring. I can feel all of them." His face, gaunt and dirty and disgusted, twisted anew. "I have no choice. To keep these fucking gods out of this, I have to find them. I have to win them."
Noa nodded decisively. "I agree." Now it was Seto's turn to look surprised. "I went out, while back, found Bakura. The ring spirit, Bakari's what he calls it, had its hooks in him. Killed a man." He glanced fleetingly at Yugi. "Damn near killed Duke Devlin, too." Yugi blanched; Noa turned back to his brother. "That thing is rough. A monster if I've ever seen one. It'll come after you, now you've got the rod, whether you take on this mission or not. Your best bet, and his best bet," Noa didn't have to say who, "is to hit this head-on. Take the power for your own."
"But," Yugi interjected, "Horus! The god! The one that…that…took hold of Mokuba." He flinched at the spasms of fury that met both elder Kaibas' faces. "He said that the spirits and gods aren't going to be a part of this! Not anymore! Doesn't that…doesn't that mean…Bakura is safe?"
Noa sneered. "You told him that once already. Look how well that turned out. It's high time you people stopped lying to that kid."
No one bothered to mention that Noa was barely a year older than "that kid."
It was Kay's turn to speak up, reminding them all that she was still there: "Yugi."
Yugi turned. "Yes?"
"…Tell…Yami…" she began, looking chagrined. "…Tell him I believe him."
Yugi smiled. "He heard you. He says he's glad." Yugi bowed his head with an uncharacteristic flourish.
Noa turned to her. He calculated something, then said, "Miss Mayer. You helped keep Mokuba calm. Protected him. Comforted him. Thank you. I, uh…I'm sorry about what I said. About, uh…" he cleared his throat.
"Violating me with an ancient artifact?" Kay asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"…Yeah. Guess that was uncouth. Anyway. I know if he was awake right now, he'd thank you. So I'm thanking you for him."
"You're not used to this, are you?" Kay asked. "Being pleasant. Being honest."
Noa shrugged. "Guess not."
Seto heaved a sigh. He grimaced as he looked down at his shirt. The sleeves were singed. He rolled them up on his arms. Beneath his bare skin was coiled steel. "You put yourself in the line of fire," he said to Kay. "All of you did. You protected Mokuba when I couldn't. I am…indebted to you." He was better at expressing his gratitude, and his guilt, than Noa; but it was a near thing.
Yugi smiled self-consciously. "We take care of our own," he said.
Seto smirked, but it looked painful; more painful than usual. He reached down, took up Mokuba in his arms, and turned to the door. He glanced at Noa. "You've decided to defend Ryou Bakura."
Noa shrugged. "I'm not as easy to kill as the rest of you sheep."
Seto's smirk regained some of its confidence. "Apparently. Tell him, if he likes, he can stay with us. While you've proven adept at crossing great distances, I don't want you rushing halfway across the city whenever Mokuba is in danger."
Noa nodded. "Fine."
Kay piped up: "You're friends with Detective McKinley, aren't you?"
Seto glanced at her, nodded. "I am."
"Do you think Katie is in danger, too?" She seemed to be masking a concern for her own safety by playing to something that might snag Seto's sympathy. "Should I…tell her? And Renie?"
"Tell them only if you can convince them to believe you," Seto said. "It serves no purpose to warn people of dangers they refuse to see." He paused. "I am…rather disgusting proof of that." He considered for a while. "If you can convince them of this…problem, then feel free to extend my invitation to them. You, also, are welcome to whatever protection my family can offer." He glanced at Noa. "Unless, of course, you think this would stretch you too thin."
It wasn't a question, or a concern. It was a dare.
Noa grinned. "Bitch, please. I was made for this."
Verse Eight.
In the hall, Mokuba's two guards had joined the rest of the security team. Aside from wearing identical suits to the others, all of them wore identical expressions of resigned, grim determination. They watched as Seto carried his brother past them; Noa came up behind.
Seto stopped and swept his glare over the suits and stares. He said, "…I never told you specifically that your protection of my brother meant keeping me from him. Because of that, none of you will be terminated from your positions on my staff. However, the fact still remains that danger was permitted to catch a glimpse of him. Until this matter is resolved, I cannot use you. Go home." He stopped, thought a moment, then added, "You are on paid leave. Effective immediately."
They all bowed their heads.
One man spoke up: "How is the little mister? Is he…is he heard?"
Seto blinked. "What?" he snapped.
"Is he hurt?"
Seto blinked, shook his head. "Thankfully, no. He's just tired."
Silenced reigned until the three Kaibas were outside. As Seto headed for his car, Noa said: "My father would have fired them."
"That's why I didn't," Seto said.
Noa smirked. "We're short-staffed. That's a lot of manpower you just sent on vacation, Aniki."
Seto looked irritated, dismissive. He grunted in reply. Then he said, "…Your father would have killed them."
Noa searched his elder's face, a frown playing at his lips. As they walked, he seemed to consider this very, very seriously. By the time Seto had Mokuba buckled into the backseat of his vehicle, Noa said, slowly, almost painfully: "You're right. He would have. Not…not with his own hands. But they would have died."
Seto, in turn, searched Noa's face. The frown on his lips wasn't playing. He said, "Your instincts tell you to do the same. Don't they, Noa?" It was an accusation. Noa shrugged, looking conflicted. "It isn't enough to keep Mokuba's body safe. If we start rampantly murdering anyone who slights him, what would that accomplish?"
Noa grimaced. He said, "…He'd end up like us."
Seto's eyes flared. "You're better than your father." It was the first time he'd given Noa anything remotely resembling a compliment. "Act like it."
Noa glanced back at the motel; Ryou Bakura stood near the door to Mokuba's room, watching them. He turned back to Seto, and saluted. He headed back to his new charge with a kind of unconscious swagger that was almost a strut. He gave a jaunty little wave to Ryou, calling out, "What's poppin'? You up for a sleepover?" and Seto could see the nervous young man's smile.
He shook his head, rolling his eyes. "I still can't tell if you're a credit to my name or an insult," he muttered.
Noa stopped, as if he'd heard.
Is he heard? Seto thought, and shuddered.
Verse Nine.
When Mokuba opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his brother, sitting at his side, dressed in new clothes. Clean, fresh clothes. Slate-grey slacks and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. He did not wear a tie; the top button was undone, revealing the thin cord of his locket.
His eyes were dark, in more ways than one.
Mokuba squealed and threw himself at the man, clinging to him with a primal kind of ferocity that obviously surprised Seto, who hadn't yet realized his brother was awake—a clear sign that he was out of sorts. Mokuba wrapped his arms around Seto's neck, eyes shut against the tears welling up inside him, trying to choke back the maelstrom of emotions threatening to drown him.
Seto held the boy to him. Mokuba could feel him smile. "Hey, kiddo," he whispered.
"N-Niisama…!" the boy wailed.
A spasm went through Seto's body, and he said, seemingly against his will: "If he took over my body right now…" He somehow managed to keep himself from saying the rest, but it sounded like it hurt.
Mokuba shook his head against Seto's shoulder. "He told me," he said, voice muffled. "He said you—he said you were back…he said he gave you back to me…"
Seto rubbed his brother's back. "…Heru," he whispered to himself. "Horus. Lord of the Living." With a disgusted sigh, he lowered his head. "Damn it, Mokuba. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He leaned back and kissed the top of the boy's head. "I'm proud of you, little brother. You've been stronger through this than I have."
Mokuba shook his head again. "You fought him. You kept fighting him. I couldn't fight. That—god—just took me. I didn't even know he was there."
Seto looked his young sibling in the eye. "You trust this god's word? Do you believe him?"
Mokuba thought, then nodded. "Yes. He was angry. He said it wasn't the way things were supposed to happen. Spirits shouldn't be going around messing things up when people are searching for the…the Golden Seven, he called them. He said, he told me, Seti was overstepping his boundaries."
Seto nodded. "Fine. Then listen to me, Mokuba. I'm going to search for these Millennium Items. I'm going to claim them. It's the only way I can finally put this circus behind me. I can't trust spirits, or gods, or guardians anymore. It's high time I took this into my own hands."
Mokuba smiled. "You'll win, Niisama. I know you'll win."
Seto ruffled Mokuba's hair. "Of course I will." He lay Mokuba back down on his bed. "Get some sleep, Mokuba. I'll see you in the morning." He stood up, walked over to the door, and flicked off the boy's light.
"Niisama?" Mokuba called out.
Seto stopped in the doorway, turning his head. "Yes?"
Even in the dark, he could see the impish little grin.
"…Do I win the bet?"
END.
Heru-pa-khered is the Egyptian name for "Horus the Child," who was transformed by the Greeks into Harpocrates, the God of Silence. In case you wondered, yes. It is very important, and significant, that Horus chose to take Mokuba's body in order to deliver his message to Seti. This story has a lot of layers to it. So many that I worry I might lose track of them.
In any case, though, as I mentioned above, this is the end of Book Two. Starting next chapter, we will venture into Book Three, "Herald from the West," which will detail Seto's quest to find, and take, the Millennium Items for himself.
If the preceding 100,000 words are any indication, the journey will be anything but easy.
But then, he's a Kaiba. He should be able to handle himself.
Right?
Also, if you're wondering what bet I'm talking about, check way back in Book One. Specifically the sixth chapter, "UnWelcome Home," Verse One.
What can I say? Kids bounce back quickly.
Before I go, I'd like to mention that I've recently brought back my FictionPress account from its long, long grave. The link is on my profile, and the first scene of my first original fiction piece, "Max Doesn't Believe in Jesus," can be found there.
If you could do me a tremendous favor and give that little story a shot, I would love you forever. Not in a creepy way, though. Unless, you know, you're into that kind of thing. In which case . . .
I'll just show myself out, shall I?