This chapter has been a long time coming. As the previous chapter was the end of a book, it felt appropriate to let this project breathe for a while before coming back to it. I've been focusing on other things lately. I've done less writing than I would have liked, since graduating from university. Nonetheless, I've been keeping myself busy.

This chapter marks the beginning of Book Three: Herald from the West. Those of you who've read "Shifting Images" may remember that part of the plot involved Seto claiming the other Millennium Items. I believe it was in the fifth chapter that he claimed the Ring. Now, it should be noted that I'm not following the same trajectory this time around. Yes, Seto will still be gathering the Items, but the Ring won't be first.

The point of bringing this up is that, as I mentioned previously, this book's focus is Seto's quest for the Millennium Items. This chapter is a bit of setup, mostly, for later. But we'll get started pretty quickly. A lot happens in this book.

It should also be noted that the title of this chapter translates to "Principles of Discord," and is a reference to an obscure religious text. I chose this title mostly to refer to the chaotic nature of the story as we begin.

So let's begin.

Verse One.

"Look, all I'm saying is, you're ruining an entire franchise with this 'brotherly love' crap."

Mokuba Kaiba frowned studiously, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "You really have to stop starting conversations in the middle."

"I'm a visionary!" Noa Kaiba snarled. "Look, I've made a chart." He lifted a sheet of paper out from within his jacket. "Orphan? Check. Wealthy? Check. Raised by a relative? Check. Messy black hair? Check. Entirely too famous to make logical sense? Check." He glared over at the eldest Kaiba sibling, who was seated in one corner of the parlor and very pointedly not paying attention. "Looked after and protected by a smug son of a bitch who gets away with being arrogant because he backs it up with badassery? Just face it, kiddo." He leered down at Mokuba. "You are Harry Potter."

Mokuba's frown deepened. "I don't have a scar. Did you just compare Niisama to Sirius Black?"

Noa blinked, then sputtered with laughter. "Please. I'm not that pedestrian. Didn't I just tell you I'm a visionary? If anybody's Padfoot in this scenario, it's me."

"Niisama—"

"I'm Snape."

Mokuba blinked, stared, and very slowly turned his eyes back to Noa, looking like he'd just discovered the eternal secret to the universe. Noa, looking smug, gesticulated with his hands like a magician after a thoroughly entrancing performance. From the look on his face, you never would have been able to tell that life at the Kaiba Estate had turned completely upside down in the past weeks.

Not that there wasn't enough room for so many houseguests; there was enough room for each houseguest to have their own bathroom. Nonetheless, in a household used to having only two members—even Noa still hadn't quite settled into the routine; in fact, he seemed to thrive on disrupting the routine—tripling that number still had a demoralizing effect.

On Seto, at least.

Both Mokuba and Noa thought that the reason he hadn't yet lost his perpetual cool and kicked any of them out—Katie and Renie, in particular, seemed to be grating on his nerves; Ryou and Kisara seemed well-versed in the proper strategy of staying out of his way—was because he was full into Research Mode™ and couldn't be bothered.

While Seto was researching, Mokuba was used to seeing him enswathed in books and notepads, colored tabs and multi-colored pens. It was actually rather nice to see, since it meant that his brother was engaged in something that he obviously cared about, and it was usually the closest thing to having fun that he ever allowed himself to do anymore.

When it came to the Millennium Items, however, there was almost no printed information anywhere; most people seemed to think that they were a fringe theory at best, blatantly false mythology at worst, and that meant his only chance to find anything at all was obscure message boards and random speculative Egyptology blogs.

So, Seto was never found without his laptop or smart phone. Which meant nothing at all looked out of the ordinary.

Except for the fact that every new piece of the puzzle seemed to make him more and more irritated. Mokuba wondered what would happen if his brother had a legitimate breakthrough. It would probably involve broken bones and rampant cursing.

"Not to beat a dead horse…again," Noa said, watching his elder type mercilessly on a keyboard that obviously hadn't been built for a Kaiba's anger, "but you ever consider talking to an expert on this particular subject? Couple of 'em might even live here in the city."

"I'm not going to Mutou," Seto growled. "I'd prefer talking to Ishtar. And I'm not going to her, either."

Noa's face soured, and he quieted. Mokuba wasn't sure what had happened between the middle Kaiba and the Ishtar siblings, but it was obviously something less than pleasant because, whenever their names came up in conversation, he got a look on his face that made it seem like he was steeling himself for a particularly dangerous and unpleasant surgery.

Whether Noa was the patient or the surgeon in this particular metaphor, Mokuba wasn't sure.

"Well, then, how goes the independent study, Aniki? Found anything useful yet?"

Seto finally glanced up at his almost-twin, and gave him a sardonic expression that very clearly said: What do you think?

Noa hopped up onto his feet. "I'm gonna go do some studying of my own, then. Keep beating your head against the wall there, Seto-sama." He bowed deeply at the waist. "Sure is nice to see you spending your first vacation from the Kaiba Corporation doing exactly what you always do, except far less effectively."

Seto stared at Noa like he was a new species of goat. "Your commentary is both well-received and warranted. Well done."

Noa beamed. "It's what I'm here for!"

And with that, he left the room.

Mokuba looked at his brother with a small smile on his face. "I'm here to make you feel better about your fruitless enterprises." He reached over and patted Seto's knee. "There, there."

"Your sense of humor is less than appreciated," Seto muttered, and turned back to his research. The young Kaiba stood up, stepped behind his brother's chair, and put his hands on Seto's shoulders. "No use sucking up now. You've ruined your chances."

Mokuba rested his chin on Seto's left shoulder, and looked down at his screen. He was scanning the comments section of a YouTube video. "I love you?" the boy offered.

"I love you, too," Seto said, sounding grudging as he did; he couldn't leave the sentiment unanswered, even when it was meant as a joke. "Now go do your homework. Just because I'm wallowing in 'fruitless enterprises' doesn't mean you get to join me."

"Fine. But do you know what's going on with Noa? Whenever I get ready for my mythology class, he gets all angry and starts sulking."

"Malik Ishtar is responsible for this," Seto said, reaching down into his chair and pulling up the Millennium Rod. "Isis Ishtar prompted me to start Battle City, which first attracted him to Domino in the first place. Considering all that's happened in the past two weeks, my guess is that Noa's confronted them. Likely he's threatened them. He doesn't want you around them, because he's drawn the lines of war. He thinks they may use you in order to even the score."

Mokuba blinked, standing up straight. "…Really?"

"I'd put money on it." Seto looked up from his screen. "There is one person in this city that Noa trusts implicitly. That is you. He is suspicious of everyone else. Their motives, their aspirations, their smiles. He suspects that the Ishtars will hurt you because he suspects that everyone will hurt you, given the opportunity."

"How do you know this?"

Seto turned back to look over his shoulder.

"It's the one thing about him to which I can relate."

Verse Two.

"I can't believe you're letting me use all this."

"It's principle," Noa said as he slipped into the room. He put on a pleasant face and turned it toward Ryou Bakura. The unwilling host for the Millennium Ring was sitting on the bed of the most lavishly decorated bedroom in the entire estate. Not even the master bedroom could match the sheer richness here.

"Whose room is this?" Ryou asked.

Before Ryou had come here, this room had housed spare brooms, buckets, and stools for the cleaning staff.

Noa said, "My uncle Reshi used to visit from time to time. Unlike my father, he didn't believe in asceticism. His tastes were…rich. We've kept his things in order—even though he most certainly won't be visiting again." He chuckled at some private joke. From the look on Ryou's face, he didn't seem to think it was a joke he wanted to hear. "Okaasama was more sentimental than she liked us to think." The middle Kaiba put on his usual smirk. "She'd appreciate using it as a guest room. After all, we so rarely have them."

Ryou smiled nervously.

Sitting idly in front of the K-600m computer atop the oak desk, Noa crossed one leg over the other. "I notice you've been keeping to yourself. That's probably good. Aniki isn't much for dealing with people. That's probably why we don't have anybody around here most of the time, come to think of it." He bumped the computer's mouse with one knuckle, skittered across the keyboard for a moment, then chuckled to himself. "Final Fantasy XI, hm? Good to see you're making the best of things."

"I'm trying," Ryou admitted. He glanced over at the end table, where an old and battered Bible sat unceremoniously in the waning light from the only window. "It's still inside my head. My heart. The ring. It's all…still there."

Noa leaned back in the chair. "I'd be more concerned if he wasn't. You know better than anyone what that creature's capable of. We'll help you contain him. I'll help you contain him. I'm getting rather sick of ancient spirits interfering in this city."

"Are you sure it's safe? For me to be…here? You have so many people here. Your staff, and Miss Mayer, and Miss Eubank and Miss McKinley. And…and your brother."

Noa's expression turned serious. "Don't worry about Mokuba."

"But—but…I know that he's been through so much already. Fear, heartache, tragedy. All because of the Millennium Items. You know…you know that Bakari once had its sights on Mokuba. It wanted to…use Mokuba as its host."

Noa's eyes widened slightly. "I did not know that. When was this?"

Ryou fidgeted. "At…at Pegasus Crawford's island. When he was a body, and nothing else. When his—soul was taken. Bakari thought that it could make easy use of a host with no soul. With no…resistance."

Noa's scowl was sentient. "Is that right…?"

Ryou nodded. "You want to keep him safe. Right? Isn't…isn't that the most important thing? He's…he's the victim in all of this."

"There are a lot of victims," Noa said, suddenly standing up. "It just so happens that Mokuba is the most important of them for me, personally. Yes. But important decisions are never made with only the most important reason in mind. I've made that mistake before. I refuse to make it again."

Noa stepped into the doorway.

He turned, and spoke in a voice that Ryou had never heard before.

It was enough to melt glass.

"You're a victim, too. Ryou Bakura. Enough people have died because of those hunks of golden superstition. I swear to you, as a member of the Kaiba family, that you will not become one of them. Those under our roof are under our protection. There is no compromise. I say this to you, to your ring, and to the spirit hiding inside of it. There is no compromise."

He left.

Verse Three.

Seto and Mokuba were both still in the front parlor when Noa rejoined them. Thoughts kept entering the middle Kaiba's mind inadvertently, without permission, and he wasn't sure what to think about it. He was used to having ironclad control over his own mind, and yet he couldn't keep himself focused for very long these days.

He wondered why. The fact that he wondered why was troublesome. He was used to having answers, too.

Slipping his hands into the pockets of his stark-white slacks, Noa balanced on one foot and twisted his hips in something like a little dance. He looked up at Seto. "Ryou told me something interesting. Y'know back when you two were playing marionettes back on Crawford's island?" Noa mimed the stutter-step of a puppet. Seto scowled; Mokuba flinched. "He says Bakari, the ghost in his ring, had his sights on the little guy. He want hisself a empty vessel."

Seto's scowl deepened.

"Any ideas why he wouldn't go after you?" Noa asked his elder, sounding accusatory; like the spirit's choices were somehow his fault. "All that power and influence you got. Figure it'd be a better fit."

Seto calculated. Then he said, "No one would suspect Mokuba. He has nearly as much power and influence as I do, through me. Yet he hasn't the bad reputation, nor would Mutou or any of his flunkies suspect anything. A psychopath hiding behind a psychopath isn't particularly effective. A psychopath hiding behind a media darling is slightly more so."

"Media darling?" Mokuba asked quietly.

Noa frowned, then shrugged. "Huh. Makes sense. In any case, though, looks like I'm gonna have to keep a closer eye on him than I thought. Shame. Kid's really shaken up about this whole thing, y'know?"

"You've never struck me as the sort to feel sympathy for what amounts to a complete stranger," Seto muttered.

"What can I say? I'm spontaneous." Noa frowned. "Besides, I'm apathetic. Not heartless. He's damn near hyperventilating, here on the grounds with what he figures is a time bomb attached to his chest. You know that ring's actually attached to his chest now? It, like, melted itself onto him."

There was a moment of absolute, suffocating silence.

Noa wasn't sure what he expected as a response to this revelation. He supposed that he'd anticipated some sort of snide commentary about the nature of the Millennium Items, something about the Millennium Ring, specifically, or maybe even something about Ryou Bakura.

Perhaps he thought that Mokuba would gasp, or ask how that could happen.

He didn't expect to glance over at his elder's chair and find it empty.

Noa blinked, and actually did a double-take. "What the…fuck? Seriously, right now? You son of a bitch. I come in here and give you relevant information, and you just ignore me?"

He looked over at Mokuba, who was giving him an odd look. With a start, Noa realized that it was a look he couldn't read. Since when could Mokuba mask his emotions from him? He said, "The hell?"

Mokuba frowned. "Who are you talking to?" he asked. His voice was different. Even compared to what it had been thirty seconds ago, it was different. Darker. Deader.

"Who do you think I'm talking to?" Noa asked, much sharper than he'd intended.

"Look," Mokuba snapped, "I know I'm not some kind of savant or whatever, but I don't need you telling me how to do everything! I'm not stupid!"

What the…hell? Noa's brain recoiled, feeling like it was literally pushing itself into the back of his skull as if trying to escape. When he opened his mouth to speak, he meant to ask what was going on, what he was talking about, and where Seto could have gone, considering he hadn't left his chair in the past seven hours.

Instead, what came out of his mouth was: "You're going to take that tone with me, then? Is that how this is going to go? Did I call you stupid? Don't put words in peoples' mouths, Mokuba. It's been getting you into enough trouble as it is."

"Oh, I'm gonna get in trouble, am I? Oh, no. Whatever will I do?" Mokuba asked snidely, and Noa realized that he could read the expression on his brother's face: it was bitterness. Something so foreign and out of place on the young Kaiba's face that Noa hadn't recognized it from the first, even though it was the one emotion that he knew empirically.

"Cute. We're going through this again."

Why was he saying this? Why did he not have control over his own thoughts? There had never been a moment in his conscious memory when he'd ever said anything other than exactly what he thought. Yet now, his mouth was working without his permission, without his guidance.

For the first time since his second life had begun, Noa Kaiba felt helpless.

"You know what?" Mokuba snarled, his voice a higher pitch than before. "Yes. Yes, damn it, we're going through this again! You think I care about consequences anymore? You think I care about anything anymore?! What is it, Noa? What do you really want to say to me? That you should be good enough for me? That I should just pick myself up by my bootstraps and get over it? Why?!"

Noa turned away, grateful at least that he was able to control his body, if not his speech. He said, "Because you're a fucking Kaiba. You're better than this, you were taught better than this, and I'll be damned if I'm going to watch you spit on that! Yes, I know you're grieving. Grieve on your own damn time. If you expect me to hold your hand and tell you everything's going to be okay, stroke your hair and rock you to sleep, then you don't know me very well. I'm not here to play nursemaid."

"Why are you here?!" Mokuba screeched.

Noa whirled, unbidden by his own commands, and shouted back: "I'm here to make sure you don't fuck upeverything he stood for! He put all of his faith, all of his trust, into you. God only knows why. All you've done for the past month is snivel and bitch. I'm here to put a stop to this. Get used to it!"

Upon seeing the look on his little brother's face, Noa forced his body to obey him, and bolted from the room.

For a moment, just for a flash, he'd actually felt the urge to hit the boy, with all the strength resting in his synthetic muscles. And even in the midst of this confusion, Noa knew what a blow like that would do.

It would decapitate him.

Verse Four.

Noa opened his eyes, and found himself on the floor of his bedroom.

He didn't have a bed in this room, because he didn't need one. He didn't sleep. Yet what else could he call it, opening his eyes like this without any memory of how he'd gotten here? He stood up, straightened his clothing, and looked around.

Someone was standing in the corner of the room.

There was no real form, no substance, to the figure. It was like Noa was looking at his own shadow, lounging around on its off-time. He could tell that this nebulous figure was looking at him.

Noa didn't believe in coincidences. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

There was no mouth, but there was a voice. The figure said, "I'm preparing you."

"Preparing me. And would you care to inform me, for what?"

"You know well enough that the gods have intervened. Your elder's mission to obtain the Golden Seven is about to begin. The only reason I am able to come here, and converse with you, and deliver this dream to you, is because no gauntlet has been thrown yet. He has yet to challenge another."

"I'm sure this is fun to you, but you should know that I'm not interested in riddles. You sound like Mutou. Or Seti. I'll tell you the same thing I told them: don't fuck with me."

"The last thing I intend to do is fuck with you. Know only this: what I have shown you is not a trick. It is not some hocus-pocus, as people in your age are wont to say. I have given you a glimpse of your own future. Prepare yourself for it. You have a part to play. In order for your elder to succeed, he will require assistance from every member of his court. You count among them."

"You're telling me that, in my own future, I'm going to treat my own brother like dirt. You really think I'm going to talk to him like that? Since you know so much, do you have any idea what he means to me? That boy is my lifeline. He's the only reason I'm here. The day I feel the urge to hurt him…"

He couldn't finish the thought.

The figure seemed to be smirking at him. "I know how much he means to you. Enough that you would do what must be done, in direct spite of what either of you would want. That is the only strength you have over your elder. The one thing you can do, that he cannot."

"In what universe is it considered a strength that I get so pissed at a little kid that I want to knock his teeth out? Do I look like Diamun? I'm not petty. I pay my debts. I owe that boy my life. That debt will not be paid with his blood."

"Are you telling me that you can think of no circumstance in which 'tough love,' as you might call it, would not be necessary for the youngling's survival?"

"Whatever. I'm done talking about this. I don't know what you are, but if you intend to haunt me, you should know that I don't crack easily. You're going to have to up your game."

Noa shook his head, blinked, and the shadowy figure was gone. He left his room, shut the door, and tried to ignore what his mind was telling him.

Back in the front parlor, he saw Seto hunched over his laptop, growling incoherently at something only he could see. Mokuba was huddled in one corner of the couch on the other side of the room, reading.

Mokuba looked up. "Hey, Noa," he said, positively chipper. "Find anything?"

"Yes," Seto muttered, staring up at him with a look that could curdle milk. "Do impart your wisdom."

Noa drew in a breath.

"…Ryou told me that Bakari, the spirit in the Ring, once had his eyes set on Mokuba. He's worried." Noa ruffled Mokuba's hair. "Might make him feel better if you went 'n talked to him, kiddo." Then he looked up at Seto. "I'm supposing I should keep watch, just in case our resident poltergeist gets any fresh ideas. But I gotta talk to you about something. Whenever you're done, let me know."

Seto frowned, looking confused for a moment. "You're uncharacteristically grim."

"What can I say?" Noa murmured somberly. "I'm spontaneous."

END.

Verse Three was a dream sequence. It might be that that isn't specifically clear, since it starts off normal and just kind of transforms into something weird halfway through. There's not going to be much in the way of an explanation, but know that it will make sense . . . eventually.

That said, I hope you enjoyed this installment, and I look forward to sharing the rest of this book with you. Some of my favorite plot points from "Shifting Images" will get the full treatment here.

'Til next time, all.