Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Aeternitas ❯ Shadows of the Past ( Chapter 4 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

AoA: Well, I was going to do a dislaimer, but I thought why should I waste my own breath when I can get someone else to do it?

Bakura: *grumbling* You are as mad as Shorai, you know this, right, woman?

AoA: *chuckles* Of course I do, 'Kura-chan ^_~ Now do the disclaimer!

Bakura: *more grumbling, muttered curses* This crazy woman does not own YuGiOh! And if she did I would waste no time in banishing her to the Shadow Realm... of course, I'm not quite sure what's making me stall right now.... *sneers, begins to grab for his Ring*

AoA: *sweatdrop* Now now, 'Kura-chan... no need for that! *runs off screaming*

Bakura: *cackling now* Don't forget to review! *runs off after me brandishing the Millennium Ring*

Bakura stretched out amongst the pale blue pillows that were scattered across his bed. It was soft and comfortable, delicate even. Much like he was lying on clouds. The materials were unidentifiable, soft as chenille and slick as silk. It lulled his brain as his head sunk deeper into the pillows and he found his eyelids drooping. Ever so slowly he allowed himself to succumb to sleep, mind flitting in and out of dreams as he did so.

Flames licked at the buildings around him, Pharaoh Akunumkanon's army stormed the streets killing all they could find. Men, women, and children alike fell to blades and spears. But there he huddled in the darkness of an alley, begging not to be found. Although he had been taught long ago that emotions were something of a weakness, he was only an eight year old child and tears tumbled their way down his cheeks. How had this tragedy come to be?

A fight among the gods, that had been it. One would think it was something serious that they were warring over, but even at his tender age he knew it was most likely something trivial. However, due to this bickering Egypt was falling out of the Pharaoh's control and he needed to do something drastic. Something like sacrificing this entire village to the gods in hopes of appeasing them.

Now, here he was, compressed against the cold stone of the building, hoping they wouldn't find him. The sudden spear shoved towards his face told him that his hopes were in vain. "Come out," a gruff voice ordered from a face painted in black and gold, although it had been smudged by sweat and just a little blood.

At first he contemplated not listening, but figured that would just make his death slower, more painful. So he hauled himself to his feet and looked defiantly at the soldier in front of him.

"Not another child," the soldier muttered. "I can't kill these children." The edge of his spear dipped towards the ground. "Run, little boy. Get out of here as fast as you can."

He didn't have to be told twice. As fast as his short legs would carry him he raced for one of the village's exits. Kuruelna had massive walls built around it, a blessing before and now a horror. All the escape routes were blocked by soldiers pouring in with torches, spears, swords, any weapon they could get their hands on. The citizens were fighting back, many of them as skilled as the soldiers and perhaps more cunning due to their lives lead mainly as criminals and thieves. Even this little boy, at his delicate youth, knew how to fight and use a blade. If he'd had one with him, he might already have used it.

Suddenly an explosion ripped through the building he'd been standing not a hundred feet from and the blast threw him in a shower of debris and smoke. He tumbled head over heels for several feet until he finally came to rest on his back, sprawled over the lifeless body of a soldier. He pulled himself up looking about dazedly, blood trickling down the side of his face, some into his eye, some from another wound just below his right cheek. Curses slipped from his tiny mouth, but he grabbed up the spear that had fallen at this soldier's side and began running again for one of the exits.

Several warriors were taken off guard as this child came tearing at them, spitting curses left and right and wielding the spear almost expertly. Two he killed before the spear's head snapped off, lodged in the chest of one of them. The others seemed too surprised to even chase after him and he ran off into the desert, eyes filled with tears, angry mutterings still coming from him. Only when he was sure he'd gotten far out of the line of fire did he turn back. Pillars of flame burned towards the sky, thick gray smoke licking slowly upwards. The boy slipped down to his knees, finally allowing himself to sob, but his voice was lost to the dead night air of the desert.

He shot up in his bed, rubbing his cheek as if when he pulled his hand away it would be crimson with his own blood. A growl escaped him. Violently he shook his head back and forth until the dream began to fade away. "Ra bedamned!" he shouted, planting his face in his hands, squeezing shut his eyes and gritting his teeth. Except he could feel the tears in his eyes as they threatened to spill over. For so long he had suppressed this memory, driven it from his mind like the plague. He did not understand why it chose to show itself again now.

However, Bakura did not have any more time to think. At that moment someone appeared in his doorway. For just a few moments he thought it was a normal servant until he saw that she was colorless. Everything from her clothes to her hair and skin was a dull, ashen gray. The woman bowed deeply to him, mouth pressed into a tight line until she came back up and said, "Aeternitas requests your presence for dinner."

Bakura ogled this sight in disbelief before nodding his head dumbly. Then he stood from the mass of azure pillows and left the room behind her.

****

The grand dining room stretched out before them in a magnicifent display of the uses of creamy white marble. More Ionic style columns, accompanied by just a few Doric ones gathered about the room like massive arms supporting the high, oval domed ceiling. There at the top, through several large panes of glass, the sky could be seen, dimming to a dusky violet now that the sun had finally set. Despite this, the room was somehow brightly lit, though neither Bakura nor Malik could find any source of this glow. No light fixtures, no fire.

Abruptly, the two servants that had fetched them ushered them to their seats at the table, a long low slab of cherry wood fitted with six legs and several empty chairs. Bakura and Malik were situated across from each other at the very end of the table, where three different chairs were situated. They were of a paler wood than the table and high backed with thin cushions sewn into the seats, covered in the same material as the pillows from Bakura's room. As the servants disappeared through the doors from whence they came, Bakura and Malik regarded each other over the table. Neither said a word though wonder was evident on their faces.

From somewhere on the other side of the immense room the sound of someone clearing their throat caught the two men's attentions and their heads swiveled to find the source of the noise. There they stood in all their glory, Aeternitas, looking upon the two with a mixture of curiosity and mirth. Bakura found his eyes widening as he took in the three figures, instantly recognizing the tumbling red locks of the Future. Across the table, Malik's mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

The three had fancied themselves up a tiny bit for their company, dressing a bit grander than usual, hoping to fit their impressive reputations. Konomae was adorned in a long flowing robe of jade that spilled down her graceful figure and pooled delicately around her bare feet on the marble floor. Her eyes twinkled merrily as she looked upon their guests from beneath lightly emerald shaded eyelids. Pale golden loops hung from either earlobe and a thin golden chain draped loosely around her throat.

From beside her, Ima had chosen something with more cloth and less skin. A tunic of deep crimson fit loosely about him, teasingly creased against some of the supple muscles of his chest and came to an end around his knees. Wrapped from around his waist and up over one shoulder was a thin flow of ebony fabric pinned to the shoulder with a small silver clasp. The same flimsy chain as before graced his neck and this time his soft leather sandals were black instead of brown.

And last, Shorai stood at Ima's left, pale pink lips twisted in a smile. Like Konomae she had chosen a the long robe to envelop her, only instead of the pale green, she had chosen a shade of lavender similar to Malik's own eyes. A gauzy, pale violet wrap swept her hair from her face, tied somewhere underneath her auburn tresses at the base of her neck. A diamond earring glittered from each ear and a silver chain hung around her throat. Underneath the spill of her robe at the floor she too was barefoot.

Between the two women, Ima finally spoke, breaking the delicate silence that permeated the room. Wonderment greeted him from the faces of their guests, Bakura's eyes wide and Malik's mouth still hanging open. "Allow us to introduce ourselves," Ima said, his voice a gentle rumble on the air.

Although the boys said nothing, the look of anticipation which suddenly flowed into their faces was enough.

With this, Konomae stepped forward, bowing her head briefly before saying, "I am Konomae. I curl my fingers through the flow of the past and weave my will throughout." Her voice reminded Bakura of his very distant past, soft like the desert winds with the potential of something dangerous.

Now Ima spoke again, head barely tilting in acknowledgement. "Ima, my heartbeat pulses though the present and all who hear it heed me." Like before, he spoke with the gentle purr of distant thunder.

And finally, Shorai stepped forward, closer to her brother's side. An apologetic _expression mingled with her smile as she began to honestly introduce herself, for it was painfully obvious that she was not the "Destiny Blair" that had shown up on their doorstep hours ago. "I am Shorai, I whisper my bidding into the ripples of the future, and it is done." Then she too bowed her head before looking back up at the two men.

It seemed they were rendered speechless. Bakura's _expression now one of awe, he finally dared to say something. "Not Destiny Blair." A silent curse went through his mind, asking him "This is what you have to say after meeting the three most powerful beings ever to grace the earth?"

A chuckle left Shorai and she shook her head. "No, I'm not Destiny Blair... although you could call me 'destiny' and technically be correct." Another giggle like the trickle of water in a brook.

With a snort, Konomae shook her head and then she and her siblings made their way to the head of the table. She settled down to the left of Ima, on Malik's side of the table, while Shorai took the seat nearest Bakura's.

"Before any business is conducted we shall eat and talk lightly." This from Ima.

At this remark several of those gray servants appeared, all of them holding a tray filled with several dishes, some exotic and others more mundane. They bustled about serving the five who occupied the table and when everyone had something in front of them, including tall goblets filled with some sort of drink, the servants melted back into the shadows leaving them in peace.

With an approving glance around the table, Ima smiled and nodded. "Now, we eat."