/Text/ Spirit to Host

/Text/ Host to Spirit

Chapter 20: Shadows

Yugi and Hermione, still sitting in the common translating sheets of runes from their morning class, were surprised to see Seto return to the tower before they had all gone to bed. He stormed through the portrait hole, and if it hadn't been for Yugi calling out his name, he would have crossed the common room and disappeared up to the dormitory without speaking to anyone.

"Kaiba," Yugi repeated, and held out some parchment. "These are the notes we took and a practice assignment from Professor McGonagall."

Seto looked them over; giving a slight nod that Yugi took as the closest he would get to a thank you.

Hermione smiled meekly and pushed across the table a prepared bowl of murtlap essence. "It looks like you need it."

Seto closed his eyes, sighed, and sank down in the chair opposite Yugi. He rolled his shirt sleeve up before sinking his hand down into the murky liquid, feeling the immediate soothing relief to his irritated skin.

"Why didn't you say anything to Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore? You just let her do this to you?" asked Hermione, "They wouldn't let this continue."

Set phased out of the Millennium Rod, arms crossed beside his host. "It's a matter of pride. Seto is unfortunately too strong-willed to ask anyone for help. This was a battle of wits, and there was no way he was going to show any vulnerability to anyone – least of all her."

With his left hand still submerged in the bowl, Seto reached down with the other and pulled his Charms assignment from his bag. "Believe what you wish about me," said Seto coldly, glaring at the spirit from the corner of his eye. "You don't know anything."

Hermione watched them. There was something going on behind the scenes that she and Yugi weren't quite privy to. Did Seto and Set still not get along? "She didn't give you another one, did she?"

"No."

"I don't understand what giving you lines is going to prove, to be honest," said Yugi, "It's not like you get on her bad side on purpose, all the time."

Seto shook his head and dropped his quill onto the desk. "You don't get it. None of you," he added, turning angrily to Set. "Like the last time, I had a choice. I could sit there and write lines until my fingers fell off, or I could play her ridiculous game of Twenty Questions to find out her angle." He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at Yugi. "Do you want to know why she's been taking her wrath out on me? For something so incredibly minor it's laughable? Face it; you and Bakura caused more mayhem with that boggart than I did with that one phone call. Did she give either of you detention for that? No. Haven't you wondered why that was?"

Yami phased out of the Puzzle behind Yugi. "Why?"

Seto focused his glare at the Pharaoh. "You. And the pest living in the Millennium Ring. The majority of the questions she asked me were about you two. Maybe if you didn't freak her out with your little spook show she would have gone after her answers directly. But she doesn't think I have the same…problems as you and therefore safe to interrogate to her heart's content."

Yami nodded thoughtfully. "The Millennium Rod – she doesn't know you have it, or Set. She probably has you pegged as an entitled rich snob used to getting his way all the time."

Seto rolled his eyes. "I didn't realize you thought such nice things about me."

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "So…how much information did she get?"

"She didn't get anything," Seto snapped, "And unless she gets over her fear of Yugi and Bakura's Items, she won't by grilling me."

Yami chuckled. "She obviously had no idea how much of an iron will you have."

Seto lifted his hand out of the bowl and twisted it around so Yami could see how red it still was. "I didn't put up with torturing myself just to be difficult. This isn't just about my pride. This is about survival. You can't trust Umbridge with knowing about the Millennium Items any more than any other adult in this school. She knows now she can't get information out of me, so unless she sits you down in her office, she's going to have to be a lot more tactful with how she investigates."

He glowered at Set. "You think I didn't say anything because this was a battle of wills? You don't know what sort of damage she might have caused just by knowing what those Items do. Quite frankly, it may have been a mistake to even come here in the first place."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "What? How can you say that – Professor Dumbledore is offering you protection!"

Yami thought back to their original encounters with Dumbledore. "He wanted to protect us…while giving us the chance to fight wizards on their own terms."

"Look how well that's going so far. In one month, how much protective magic have we actually learned. And don't pull the whole 'new student' garbage," he said, more to Hermione than anyone else, "Professor Umbridge isn't going to teach us anything of value. She's doing more or less everything you said she did last year – only now she's added to throwing dark creatures at you under the expectation that you can fight them off. It's nothing new, technically, since you've seen them all before."

"You're right…but it's hard to imagine her doing anything else," said Hermione.

"Dumbledore's not a perfect saint either," said Seto, "Despite not giving us a reasonable way for us to learn defensive magic, he's also prohibiting us from using the magic we already know. What's the point of us coming here to be able to protect ourselves if we're cut off from all the ways to do it? We could have stayed home and would have been no worse off than we are now."

"So what do you expect we do?" said Yugi.

Yami pointed towards Yugi's wand, sitting beside his Ancient Runes homework. "Perhaps Harry will still be willing to teach us. We'll just have to find a suitable time and place where we won't get interrupted."

"Then ask him in the morning," said Seto irritably. He stood up from the table and gathered his things together. After a quick nod of thanks to Hermione for the bowl of murtlap, he stalked upstairs.

Professor Umbridge didn't bother them for the remainder of the week, something Ryou was quite thankful for. She wasn't anywhere to be found at the breakfast table Saturday morning, so hopefully that meant she wouldn't be sneaking up on them again. It didn't stop him from sitting angled slightly so that the main entrance to the Great Hall would be in his sights.

"I don't see why you're so nervous," said Ryou, "The hard part is done – you've made the Quidditch team…well, sort of."

"I know," said Yugi, "But it's the first practice of the year. What if I'm complete trash?"

"You did alright in tryouts though," said Ron, "And just remember – you're a relief. Harry's letting you in on practices, but you probably won't make it to the first game of the season – not unless one of the chasers either bows out or gets hurt. There aren't any substitutions while a match is in progress, so if someone gets hit by a bludger and they go down, the team will just be a man short."

Yugi frowned around his toast. "Maybe I would feel better if I wasn't using one of the old brooms. They really do seem to have a mind of their own…and I don't think they like me very much."

"Eh, they didn't like me either," said Ron, "I remember my first year's first flying lesson. The broom just rolled over on the ground before it finally jumped up and almost broke my nose."

"Maybe you can buy one next weekend at Hogsmeade," said Hermione. "I think there's a broom shop there. Harry and Ron could probably point out what are the better brands to get."

Yugi nodded. "I'm looking forward to going. Maybe there will be something there I can send home to Joey and the others." He turned to Ryou. "Are you going to come out and watch the practice?"

Ryou blinked. "Am I allowed?"

Harry nodded. "I can't seem to keep the Giggle Squad away, so you won't be an issue." He sighed over at the group of fifth-year Gryffindors a little ways down the table. "So long as you stay up in the stands, you should be safe."

Ryou nodded, glanced to the side and then leaned forward a bit to whisper to the others. "Does it seem like those girls are hanging around a bit too much recently?"

Hermione sighed. "That one there, with the brown curls? That's Romilda Vane. Ginny's been telling me she's got massive crushes, and that she's got a decent supply of love potions stashed in her trunk, courtesy of Fred and George. Remember? I told you about her during Quidditch tryouts."

Ron snorted. "Who's she got the hots for?"

"Originally? Harry. Although…there are rumors she has her eyes on you and your friends, Ryou," said Hermione. "Best to avoid them altogether."

Ryou bit his lip. "I don't think I want to be alone out on the Quidditch Pitch then, if they're going to follow me out there."

Bakura snorted. /Don't tell me you're afraid of a few girls. I remember this foolishness happened back at home, too. Why does this worry you?/

/The ones at Domino High only got so dangerous – but these girls? They have magic at their disposal! What if they drug my food or something when I'm not looking, or jinx me in the corridor!/

Bakura rolled his eyes. /Do you really think I would let something like that happen to you?/

Ryou tilted his head, thoughtfully. /I don't know, Spirit…I think you would find that quite funny./

/I would, don't get me wrong, but I have no intention of letting you make a fool of yourself that way. Why don't you go bug his High Holiness to sit out there with you, so the two of you can suffer together?/

/I couldn't ask that of him, Spirit, that wouldn't be fair. Kaiba surely has other things to do./

/Fine. Sit out there all alone, with your collection of stalkers down the row. I'll just sit back and watch with no interference./

"Why don't you ask Kaiba to join you outside?" asked Harry, as if he had read Ryou's mind. "That way you won't be alone."

"I'm sure he has his own agenda for the day," said Ryou, "Wherever he is."

"I could use the Map to find him before we go out," said Harry.

Hermione looked scandalized. "Harry!"

"What?"

"Perhaps he disappears all the time to the library or unused classrooms because he wants to be by himself. And you're just using that as an excuse to stalk Malfoy – who, by the way, is sitting over there at the Slytherin table. For once, why don't you just leave that Map back in the dormitory?"

"It's ok, really," said Ryou quickly. "You don't have to do that, Harry. If I wanted to find Kaiba, I could use the Ring and track down the Millennium Rod."

Harry shrugged. "Alright. Ready, Yugi? Ron?"

Yugi nodded and downed the rest of his pumpkin juice. "I think so. Catch you later, Hermione!"

"Bye," she smiled. "Have a good time at practice."

Ryou turned to her. "So what are you going to spend the time doing?"

"Professor Vector gave us a ton of Arithmancy homework this week, so I want to get a head start on that before our Transfiguration essays. I'll probably spend my day in the library."

Ryou grimaced. "That doesn't sound too much fun."

Hermione shrugged. "At least the subjects are enjoyable. If you get tired of watching their practice, come find me, and we can work on McGonagall's assignments."

"I thought you didn't like Ron asking you for help with the essays."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "No, Ron abuses my help. If you or Yugi, or even Seto asked for my assistance, I'd gladly give it, because I know you three won't ask me to write the essay in your stead. Ron's been cut off."

Ryou laughed and got up with her. "Oh, I see. Well, I'll know where to find you."

.

.

Set phased out of the Millennium Rod and looked around the newest unused classroom Seto had chosen to hide away this time. His other half had set himself up at the table at the front of the room, far enough away from the door on the side that the noise from the corridors was muted out.

"What was wrong with the last room? The chairs looked more comfortable than the one you're sitting in."

Seto barely spared him a moment's glance as he looked over documents from a packet received in yesterday's owl post. "I didn't want to be found. Unless someone looks in every classroom on this wing of the castle, no one would know I'm here."

"No one knew you were in the last classroom either," said Set, "And if someone truly wanted to find us, all they would need is Bakura's Millennium Ring to track us down."

Seto twirled his pen between his fingers and turned the page of his report.

Set rolled his eyes. "Are you worried someone is looking for you – or watching you? Is that why you change your hiding place every day?"

Seto huffed, "I don't like being predictable."

Set snorted. "Predictable? You, my dear host, are such a creature of habit, that if someone opened a lexicon looking for the word 'predictable', your photo would appear next to it."

Seto put the papers down and shot Set a dark look. "Is there something you actually needed, or are you just bent on annoying me this morning?"

Set shook his head. "No, nothing in particular, though, I do wonder when you will pick up our lessons again. You haven't tapped into the Rod's power since the summer at the Weasley's home."

"I've chosen not to," said Seto, returning to his work, "And it's not like we're allowed to do anything related to the Millennium Items under this roof anyways. We're allowed out of the school so infrequently, there's almost no point to continue."

"You're not allowed to summon the Shadow Realm," Set corrected, "And to be honest, you wouldn't have a reason to in any normal circumstance. Just being in the realm itself becomes a drain on your stamina if you aren't accustomed to it. Even Yugi Muto was deeply affected by his first trips into it."

Seto looked up. "How would you know that?"

"You don't think I twiddle my thumbs all night while you sleep, do you? The Pharaoh and I talk quite a bit. I had been curious of some of the adventures he had been on before our minds linked; of who else he had met with Millennium Items besides Bakura."

"Why?"

Set opened his mouth to speak, but paused. He closed his eyes briefly instead and then looked down at the floor. "You will think it ridiculous, but I was looking for the others."

"Who are the others?"

Set smiled sadly and held up his transparent version of the Millennium Rod. "The other Sacred Guardians. The Pharaoh locked away his soul to stop the darkness from destroying the lands millennia ago, and with it went his memories. I don't know why my soul, or at least a piece of it, was kept inside the Millennium Rod, but it has to be because the Pharaoh will need my help to keep the darkness from returning."

"You don't remember though."

Set shook his head. "No, I don't. I assume my memories are blocked to protect the same secrets the Pharaoh sealed away, but unless they return, I have no way of knowing for certain. But…there were six of us all those years ago. And..." He sighed. "If the Pharaoh had to seal himself away because it was the only way to stop the darkness – to stop Bakura – then obviously our combined efforts were not enough. How can we be expected to stop him again if I am the only Guardian to aid him, aligned with a host that won't even use his Millennium Item, or at the very least, grant me the ability to do so in his stead?"

"You still seem sure that Ryou's spirit is going to turn on all of us," Seto leaned back in his seat and put his papers down. He really didn't know what kind of run-in Set had with him in the past, and perhaps it was because Bakura didn't hang around Yugi as much as Joey Wheeler and the other cheerleaders, but the Spirit in the Millennium Ring hardly seemed to be as extremely dangerous as Set kept making him out to be.

"And I've said before, do not underestimate him. As he has said on more than one occasion, he is here purely for his host's benefit. We have no way of knowing just how much he remembers of his past life. Just by his reactions to the Pharaoh and myself, it is clear he remembers some things, as do I. But if he remembers everything, then he will be continuing his quest for the Millennium Items as he had done once before."

Seto snorted. "I've told you more than once - I'm not afraid of him, and could probably take him with relative ease." When it came down to it, Ryou wasn't nearly as tall as he was, and he definitely wasn't built for a fight like his friends Wheeler and Taylor.

Set moved to stand right in front of Seto's desk. "In our current state, Bakura would overpower you in a heartbeat. He will fight dirty, and unless you know how to use our Millennium Rod to fight back against him, you might as well make things easy and painless and just hand it over to him once he comes for it, and he will come for it. It is only a matter of when."

"So your push for me to play your part as a modern Guardian isn't just to kick Voldemort to the curb."

The spirit gestured to Seto's wand sitting idly beside the open briefcase. "Your extreme proficiency with learning this type of magic will be fine against Voldemort, I'd imagine," said Set, "Despite our differences, I do agree with Bakura's statements that even if this Dark Lord of Britain managed to obtain a Millennium Item, he could hold no power over it. The Millennium Items had found their modern counterparts. My insistence on this subject is purely for the inevitable standoff with Bakura."

Set curled his hand into a fist before releasing it. "And…while he may seem surprised at the events like we all are…I believe he is truly the one behind your nightmares."

At this, Seto narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, clasping his hands on the table. "What makes you say that?"

"It is the only logical explanation," said Set, "If it were just your memories brought to the surface in your dreams, we could accuse some wayward wizard to being behind it. But you are seeing flashes of my own as well, and on more than one occasion at that. Whoever is behind it is obviously is searching for something, what I don't know. But the only one with anything to gain from doing that is Bakura."

"Not Yugi's alter ego?"

"By now, the Pharaoh is aware that unlocking his memories and completing his destiny involves the three Egyptian God cards and the stone tablet. He would have no reason to attack you. Bakura must remember enough of his past that there is something he is missing, and believes that we hold the key to what he seeks. Whatever it is, we need to protect it at all costs."

"And you expect to do that by lecturing me on how the Millennium Items work," Seto said, scowling.

Set leveled his reincarnation an identical frown. "The only way to fight a Millennium Item is with a Millennium Item. If you were more open, more accepting of your ancient heritage, then you would be able to stop these attacks as they happen. You can type on that computer without looking to see if your fingers hit the correct buttons because it is second nature to you. I need you to treat the Millennium Rod the same way."

Seto glared at him.

"I'm not asking you to use it all day," said Set, "But when the time comes, I need you to be prepared, or the Pharaoh has no chance of winning his fight."

Seto groaned and rubbed at his temples.

"I know this isn't what you want, but it will be necessary."

"Fine," Seto snapped. "When do you expect me to start this up again?"

Set shrugged. "The sooner the better, of course, but I dare not rob you of your previous engagements. I know your coursework and company come first. We will have to make time around them."

Set then fidgeted. "Eventually, we will have to continue during your weeks spent at home. You will have to become adjusted to the Shadow Realm, and I dare not risk summoning it here where someone might discover it."

"If you're going to wait for that, then this is never going to go anywhere," said Seto. "Half of the rooms in this castle go unused all the time. There has to be someplace we can hide away where Dumbledore or Umbridge won't notice."

"And how do you expect to find it? You may trick Umbridge, but it seems the Headmaster knows everything that goes on under this roof."

"I'll ask the experts," said Seto, glancing over to the window. An owl was sitting on the outside sill, tapping its beak against the glass.

"Experts?" said Set. "You mean Harry Potter and his friends?"

Seto shook his head and made his way to the window. The owl hopped inside a step and dropped an envelope into his outstretched hand before flying off towards the Owlery.

"Who is the letter from?" asked Set.

"Ishizu Ishtar," said Seto, frowning. He ran his thumb under flap of the envelope and yanked the letter out.

Yugi and company–

I apologize for the shortness of this letter, but I fear this method of communication can no longer be trusted. The owl arrived safely, but somewhere between your school and the museum; the message had been intercepted and read. The envelope had clearly been opened before reaching my desk.

I was able to find more information for you, but I dare not include it here. I understand that Seto Kaiba returns home semi-frequently. I can relay the news to him personally if he is scheduled to travel back soon and willing to come see me. Otherwise, we must visit an alternate method of communication where there will be no prying eyes or ears. The details are quite sensitive.

Please contact me at the museum to make arrangements.

Stay safe,
-Ishizu

"That's not good at all," said Set.

"The phones work now, so we don't have to rely on owl post anymore," said Seto. He returned to the table and began packing his paperwork back into the briefcase. "But I have a bad feeling about all of this."

The man – if he could still be called one – sat in his chair by the glow of the fireplace, looking in amusement at the piece of a sword that was brought to him weeks ago. It sat suspended, rotating in the air in front of him. It was only a fraction of the blade; the rest of it was missing, still probably lost in the desert sand. He gazed curiously at it. Why, of all things, was this brought to him? What could be so special about a broken weapon, dulled by time and exposure in the harsh elements?

Voldemort leaned forward in his seat. The Death Eaters that brought it back from Egypt had said they detected magic within it, but it looked so…so ordinary. There was no decoration along what was left of this piece of the blade, nor did it seem to be made of any special metal. It was just a broken relic.

Of course, that didn't stop him from sending those same Death Eaters back to the desert to scope for the rest of the pieces. Perhaps if there was truly magic in these fragments, they needed to be brought together. Maybe this was just a puzzle, waiting to be solved.

Voldemort reached out and finally plucked the blade from the air and turned it over in his hands. It looked just as unremarkable in his hands as it did in the air, although he raised it closer to his eyes. Was that dried blood on the end of it? It looked almost fresh – or, relatively fresh, considering its age. The blade itself was no longer its initial metal color, having been buried in the sand for who knows how long, but the dark reddish stain on the one end looked as though it was preserved in time from the moment it dried there. Interesting.

He had turned it for examination for the third time when it suddenly began to glow a dark reddish-purple hue, despite the color not appearing on any part of it, and Voldemort immediately let it drop from his grasp onto his lap.

The dark glow began to drag itself off, away from the blade and into a shape before Voldemort's armchair. It seemed to take the rough outline of a person, though one much taller than the average man. It would have towered over him, had he been standing. Its features did not fill out, so the figure remained a complete shadow, except for the one golden eye that appeared out of the void where the head seemed to be.

After 5,000 years…I am free at last…

Voldemort sat frozen in his seat, eyes darting between the still-glowing sword fragment resting on his legs and the looming figure in front of him. This shadow, that seemed to have no face or any other descriptive features may appear to be tall and intimidating, but he has spent years among all manner of dark and dangerous creatures. He would not let himself become afraid of this…thing, especially of something with only a harsh voice but no physical presence.

"What are you?" Voldemort clasped his hands together. "You are not a ghost, at least not in the traditional sense. You seem like a shadow, but I cannot see through you."

What am I? I should ask you the same, for you appear just as human as I. It would appear we have much in common.

Voldemort tilted his head and stared up at the figure. It was hard to focus on it since there wasn't really a face, so he kept his gaze on the golden eye. "And just what do you know about me?"

Our souls have both been violently shattered to the winds, though our causes could not be more different.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "You know nothing about me."

I know much about you, TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE."

Voldemort stiffened. "I am Lord Voldemort."

Ah, yes. The chosen name, one that strikes the utmost fear to the people of this region. I have read your mind, and peered deep into what remains of your soul. You are not the first to quest for power and control over a region's people. Mankind has been doing so for thousands of years. I have watched as empires rose and fell to the tyrants of the day. You will be no different.

"I know of the people and events of this day and age," said Voldemort, "I will not fail. The war has only just begun, and I am already winning." Who did this shadow think he was? No one has been able to breach his mind before, and his 'treasure hunting' over the decades all but assured he would not fail in this war – not again.

Your thoughts do not stay hidden, Lord Voldemort. Your feeble mental defenses are no match for me. I have been trapped, with one half lost in the Shadows, and the other as broken as the blade in your possession, watching…waiting…and growing in power for thousands of years. The magic you possess is powerful, yes, but does not stand up against the same kind gifted to me by The Dark One himself.

Voldemort rose from his seat and slowly began to circle the shadow. "If you are so powerful, then why did you only appear to me now?"

I have been preoccupied with other tasks that require much focus to complete. To come before you now takes a great deal of energy. I needed a conduit powerful enough to draw power from – alone I could not manage this. I have been drawing from you this entire time, though not enough that you would feel anything hazardous to your health.

Voldemort paused. "You are using me as a leech."

If you wish to think it that way, then yes. It is a temporary solution, until your subordinates find the rest of me.

Voldemort continued to pace until he was facing the golden eye again. "I take it the 'rest of you' are the remaining fragments of this sword. What happens if they find it?"

I will be one step closer to regaining a body of my own, and then our work will begin.

"Our?" Voldemort said curiously, "It seems you are in need of me, not the reverse. What need would I have for you?"

For a brief time, I held the power to glimpse the future. I saw the events of today 5,000 years ago in a temple that now stands as more or less a ruin. Your quest for the destruction of your enemies and control over this land will end in failure.

Voldemort waved a hand dismissively, "The future can be changed."

Yet there is that prophecy your mind continues to cling to. I have seen your rise to power, and I have also seen the fall. But…as you say, the future can be changed. Restore me, and your demise at Harry Potter's hands can be avoided completely.

"What would you have me do?"

While one piece of my soul escaped the Shadows where I had been trapped, the rest remains scattered amongst the other fragments of this sword. Only upon restoring it will I be able to escape. In return, I will provide your effort with the powers granted unto me by the Great Evil God, Zorc Necrophades.

"What's to guarantee you will hold up your end of this agreement once you obtain your body?" said Voldemort suspiciously, "What is to keep you here?"

It would appear your interests align with my ultimate goal. You seek the seven Millennium Items to give you an insurmountable advantage in your game of war. I seek them as well. While you are new to the stories of the Millennium Items and Shadows, I have already been once touched by the Shadows. I can find them for you with relative ease. We are better allied than as enemies.

"What do you seek them for?" asked Voldemort.

I wish to continue the path I started to forge in life, only to be thwarted in death by the Pharaoh. He walks this land again, as will I. He will not best me a second time.

"Harry Potter's death at my hands is only a matter of time," said Voldemort, "With or without the Millennium Items. But I do wish to see the Items' power for myself. Very well. If you are to help me find the Millennium Items, I will return your body to you."

A wise move.

Voldemort returned to his chair. "You already knew my name. What am I to call you?"

I am the High Priest of Darkness, also known as the Great Shadow Magus. But you may call me Aknadin.