Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Ryou Bakura: Time Master! ❯ Aftermath: The End ( Chapter 30 )

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Takahashi does, and he's shocked that this is the last chapter to my Ryou saga. So am I. It's hard, but I finally made it.

 

Shimbou had to admit that when Ryou had called him, he wasn't entirely sure what he should've been expecting. But when they left that day and went directly to Nesce, he began to see the idea. And he hadn't objected. In fact, with Yugi joining them the day after, they began to work enthusiastically, with Sith coming to help however she could. At first, Ryou was reluctant. She was, after all, the queen. But her knowledge had always been invaluable to him, and he knew she'd know exactly what needed to be done for her palace. After all, she had lived here for many years before going to Egypt to help Yami. The tools and amounts of ore were something she could help with. And it certainly became apparent that Mello wouldn't be of much use; he had told Ryou that the ore Sith requested wasn't even in his own world. Ryou wasn't sure if that was just an excuse not to help him. But he didn't utter a complaint.

 

The going was slow at first. The first few days were spent in Sith's chamber, debating what was needed. Human tools, she said, weren't strong enough to cut through even the most flimsy of the crystal in Nesce's deep caverns and many caves, and that was precisely where their first problem was. Neither Ryou nor Shimbou knew how to use Esper tools. But Sith offered a solution; her uncle did. And while he had died thousands of years ago, he was still able to at least tell Ryou what tool did the chipping and what one did the harvesting. Ryou was surprised to find that the weapons were amazingly light; Shimbou, however, knocked himself off-balance when he swung one. Mello never hid his amusement at that, and Sith herself would merely shake her head and turn away, grumbling irritably.

 

When the spirit was confident in Ryou's skill, he let the boy begin harvesting adamantine ore and crafting it, at first making just small trinkets until Ryou was used to the feel of the ore. By that time, four weeks had passed since Ryou began his first job in Nesce. And despite his many hours of time in the Hall of the Blessed, where the crumbled remains of the old statues lay, he heard commotion beginning to stir outside. One such day, he put down his tools and went into the hall. Mello was walking down alone, and when he noticed Ryou peeking out, he stopped. His grin was easy, as usual.

 

“Well, why aren't you working, Ryou?” he asked, his tone amused and somewhat mischievous, “Decided to quit for the festivities?”

 

“What's been going on? Everyone's getting really restless,” Ryou explained curiously, tilting his head, “What festivities are there?” Mello's smile vanished and he stared at Ryou flatly. Then he blinked slowly, and his lips thinned just a little as he glanced and saw a dwarf of an Esper running with what looked like a banner with Sith's insignia on it. Ryou's brow rose.

 

“Katt's wedding is in less than a week,” Mello reminded him, and Ryou's mouth dropped. He'd nearly forgotten all about that! And that part was clear, for Mello let out a great laugh and shook his head in disbelief. “You've forgotten.”

 

“Has that much time really passed!?” Ryou exclaimed, unable to believe it himself, “My father must be worried sick! A whole month here!?” Mello laughed again. To him, Ryou was more than old enough to strike out on his own. Then again, Mello had been living alone since he was fourteen. His grin returned as he put a hand on his hip.

 

“Relax. Sith knows you have a life out there,” he said casually, “She's written to your father. He's actually happy you're doing this. Something about building character and shit I never cared about.” He waved a hand loftily, and Ryou's cheeks flushed. He should've expected that reaction from Yaten, but at least the man wasn't fighting with Sith. He snorted softly, and half-smiled despite the embarrassment.

 

“I guess he's glad I'm finally out of the house,” he said offhandedly, and when Mello's brow rose, he said, “I didn't do too well the first few days after getting back into my world.”

 

“I'm not surprised,” the older man stated, no longing mocking Ryou, “What was more shocking? Lack of magic or Sith actually being gone?” By the tone, Ryou guessed Mello had gone through a similar feeling when Sith left him the first time. His smile grew a little weaker.

 

“Sith,” he replied, and then quickly changed the subject, “How is she doing? I don't see much of her these days.” Mello's grin returned, but it wasn't smug or overconfident. It looked almost warm as he glanced out the window. Already he could hear Sith reprimanding a servant, and didn't want to know who the poor flop was. Ryou bit his lip to hide his laughter; it seemed as if Sith was perfectly fine.

 

“She's tired and annoyed, but she'll live,” Mello answered, and his tone became amused once more, “She'll probably be better after our wedding, but with an assistant like Matt, she might get even more irate.” Ryou didn't know who Matt was, but he must've been efficient with annoying Sith. Mello sounded pretty serious on that note. He took a breath, and when Ryou didn't return to his work, he asked, “Stopping for the day?” Ryou nodded.

 

“I doubt it would hurt. The statues won't be moving,” was the reply, and Mello bowed low at that. Then he put an arm around Ryou's shoulders and they began for the audience chamber. They turned the corner just in time to see Sith crossly storming in, with Gustave and the three bards running after her. Ryou could only imagine what actually happened outside, and was glad he was inside to miss it. Likewise, Mello shared a similar opinion.

 

Ryou spent the evening with Sith, Katt, Mello, and Malik. Shimbou had come in for dinner, but had asked to go back to Domino City to visit his mother. Sith generously granted it, and sent for Captain Piett immediately. For the most part, the conversation was about Katt's wedding, but every so often, Sith would ask how things went on Domino's side. Ryou could only grin and tell her everything was `normal.' Sith didn't entirely appreciate the joke, but Mello and Malik both had a laugh at it. Matt, Ryou learned, was actually Mello's friend, but had been appointed as Sith's caretaker in spite of that, and he learned Sith had been against that very strongly. And when he saw Matt, he easily saw why. The man was no more than twenty, and barely taller than Sith herself. He was quiet and easy-going, but it was clear he didn't enjoy too much company. And he smoked nearly constantly. When Ryou greeted him, he barely nodded toward the younger but taller boy, and that was his only acknowledgement.

 

“Do you have any more attendants?” Ryou whispered as he sat down next to Sith, and she knew exactly what he was getting at. She laughed, and if Matt himself heard, he didn't give it away. She shook her head.

 

“I need very few,” she replied honestly, and smiled sharply, “Three thousand years has taught me to take care of myself well.” Ryou didn't doubt that, but he didn't question further. As they began to serve themselves, he looked at Katt this time. Obviously, the excitement did well for the woman. Her skin practically glowed, and her eyes were bright and sparkling. It was an almost startling contrast to Sith, who had looked tired every time Ryou saw her. She beamed as she spoke to Malik near constantly.

 

“Looking forward to marriage?” Ryou asked, as Malik tried to escape just long enough to grab a roll. Katt turned and nodded vigorously. She had never truly looked happier.

 

“Oh, I know that it'll be a great union, Ryou!” she exclaimed, and it was hard to imagine that she was so grim-faced about Sith's marriage to Mello, “I couldn't be happier!” Ryou risked a glance at Sith, and saw the woman was frowning deeply. To her, that was a blow. Katt had, after all, destroyed her happiness long ago, and she still hadn't truly forgiven her sister for it. Nor would she do anything herself, however. Ryou gave Sith a sympathetic smile and turned to Katt again.

 

“I'm happy for you, Katt,” he replied gently. Mello put down a chicken leg just enough to wipe his mouth and grin.

 

“Me too, even though you destroyed our union,” the man added, putting an arm around Sith, “No worries. I won't be crashing this wedding… probably not, anyway.” Ryou snorted and shook his head, but a warning glance from Sith told Mello clearly that his wife wouldn't take any of his shenanigans. He coughed and went back to eating his dinner. Sith turned to her sister, her smile small and serious.

 

“As am I, Katt, but I do have concerns,” she stated, and by the look on the younger woman's face, they had clearly had this discussion already, “Don't give me that look. You've not said a word of your arrangements when you leave! I would like to know where my sister will be, if it so conveniences you.” Katt winced a bit at the severity of Sith's words; the woman sounded both serious and a little hurt as well. Malik grinned.

 

“Relax, Sith. We're staying with Isis and Rishid until I find a place for us,” he assured her. But for Sith, that wasn't assurance. It was a foreboding to what would be her next assassination, should something bad befall her sister. Her eyes narrowed flatly as she regarded him. Ryou could tell she wouldn't be accepting him as part of her family anytime soon, even if he agreed to take the Winchester name. Ryou wasn't sure he had.

 

“You'd be better off staying here,” Mello commented in that smug way of his, “Sure, aristocracy's a bitch, but what's better than the castle?”

 

“You aren't helping!” Sith hissed, and Mello gave a hardy laugh as he patted her back. Katt snorted and gave a smile that said she actually agreed with Sith on that one, and Malik shrugged it off as he sipped his wine. It was crisp and way too rich for him.

 

“Yeah. I hate royalty, so that makes me want to leave even more,” Malik added, but that only made Mello's grin widen. Nothing ever seemed to pop his self-amusement.

 

“Where do you plan to live?” Ryou cut in before an argument could start. Everyone turned to him, but only Sith gave him a grateful smile. Katt's lips simply thinned.

 

“Domino, of course,” Malik answered with a creased brow, as though that answer was obvious. Sith blinked slowly, as though unable to believe that. Then again, she did have loyalty to the place herself; she'd lived there for years. Mello, however, clearly didn't like that answer. He tossed the chicken bone easily into the fireplace.

 

“Why?” he asked curiously, “That place is a dump whenever I visit it.”

 

“It'd have helped if you hadn't created total havoc when you did visit,” Katt retorted flatly, and Mello just gave her a satisfied smirk as Sith let out a harsh laugh. Malik's face paled and he remained silent, partly because he was insulted. Ryou could only watch, unable to say much of anything himself. Mello was more than half the reason the place was attacked at all, he had guessed. And Sith hadn't exactly denied it, either. Sith gave Malik a warm smile, and that eased his fury.

 

“Whatever the case, I do give you my blessings on it,” she said calmly, though there was still a hint of laughter to her voice. Malik just nodded with a slight blush.

 

“Thanks, ma'am,” he replied, and for the rest of the dinner, not much else was said.

 

A week passed too quickly, and the wedding had been a marvelous one. Everyone Katt knew had shown up, and the festivities were quite large. Larger than Sith's coronation, Ryou had to be sure. How Sith had managed to hold such a party, he didn't know nor did he ask, but she did it. Katt and Malik were married `under the eyes of Roris,' and Katt had taken Malik's surname, much to Sith's frustration. But the queen didn't react when the priest announced it. The ensuing party seemed to last forever to Ryou, but then it ended too quickly. And by two days past, Katt and Malik departed for Domino again. And two days later again, Ryou resumed his work among the statues when Shimbou returned with Yugi and Jou in tow. All three of his friends were more than willing to help with the rebuilding and crafting of the statues, and Jou even assured him that Honda was coming as soon as Miho was well enough for the travel. Ryou was grateful for that. He needed all the help he could get.

 

“So, how many of these things are we building?” Shimbou asked, as he and Jou moved a large piece of coppery-looking ore to a crafting table, whereas Ryou picked up a hammer and pounded away, the magically enchanted tool chipping it like thin glass. Inside the ore, brown light shone resiliently against the wall. This would make a wonderful statue of Meredith, a wraith who had mastered Earthen magic long ago, legendary even among the Espers. Wiping his forehead after six swings, Ryou smiled.

 

“All twelve of them,” he replied calmly, but the other three stared at him in complete disbelief. Twelve statues! And they were very large ones, at that. They didn't know what possessed Sith into thinking humans could build those, but Ryou hadn't complained and he worked tirelessly, it seemed. Jou's mouth dropped open.

 

“Twelve!?” he exclaimed, and shook his head, “We're going to die before this is done!”

 

“Aww, try to have some faith, Jou,” Yugi said cheerfully, collecting the shards Ryou had split and putting them in a giant mortar to heat and melt for later use, “Sith will probably take care of us while we work!” Ryou snorted. Yugi's resolve for Sith must've shaken a bit since her departure. Sith had promised to help them as they helped her. And even if she was insane, she kept her promises. Besides, with her own wedding coming up soon, there would be feasts nearly daily, no doubt. But he didn't share that with Jou. The man would slack if he found out there was another ceremony.

 

“If not, then I'm sure that husband of hers will look in, too,” Shimbou added with a shrug as he brought another coppery ore to match the first, “He's not such a bad guy once you get to know him.” Ryou had mixed feelings on that, but he did admit Mello wasn't so unbearable now that he was married to Sith… almost. The king himself even helped to build the statues occasionally; he was much stronger than Ryou and the head of Meredith was made in only one night because of him.

 

“He's not,” Ryou agreed, and then went back to his work. They worked tirelessly for days, and Sith eagerly provided them with lodging and food until they asked to leave. Jou was the first, asking to leave three days later to check in on Shizuka. Yugi was next, wanting to make sure Yami and Suguroku were all right. But both Shimbou and Ryou stayed. By the end of the first week, they had made three of the statues flawlessly. Ryou was very good at his work, and even Mello admitted that freely. Sith was pleased beyond anything she had even been before.

 

The weeks marched on, and the statues were slowly resurrected. Ryou left the hardest ones, Fenrir and Bahamut, to be done last. He noticed that now, with weeks of wielding the large hammer, his muscles grew corded and strong. Shimbou was affected similarly, though both men kept their slight frames. Both could lift the hammer easily now, and if it wouldn't have killed them, they'd have practiced swinging it for melee. But Sith had caught Shimbou once. It nearly had him imprisoned for endangering her. After that, he and Ryou both agreed the hammer was for working, and fighting should be done when Mello came to annoy them both. Which was, surprisingly, growing more and more infrequent as his wedding grew closer.

 

Finally, it grew to be nearing six months since Ryou left home, and while he wrote to his father three times a week, he began to miss his family sorely. It was now March, and the winter season had long since settled into the Aeroglyphian kingdom. The snow was thick, often coming in blanketfuls before the last storm melted even a little. The palace seemed quiet and muffled, and very empty whenever Ryou woke up in the early morning, walking with Shimbou down to the Hall to continue his work. The only ones up enough to greet him were Sith and her bodyguard, Matt. And even then, they exchanged just brief greetings before the woman was whisked to her throne. Ryou would just shake his head. Ruling was a hard job.

 

But on this day, he wouldn't be working. Sith's wedding day had finally come, and even at the early hour, guests were arriving to find seats to the ceremony. Ryou stalked around curiously, not knowing what his station was supposed to be; he seemed to have been demoted since working on the statues, even if Sith had never said anything to the effect. But when he reached the entrance hall, he heard Mello's frustrated, annoyed voice boom across the hall.

 

“Ryou!” he called, and the crowds parted to let him through, “What the hell are you doing!? Why aren't you dressed!?”

 

“Dressed?” Ryou repeated dully, at first not knowing what Mello was yelling about. Mello stopped short and stared at him in utter disbelief. To him, this was the most important day of his life.

 

“For the WEDDING!” Mello snapped angrily, brows creasing sharply in irritation. Ryou's eyes popped, and he looked around. Even in his best suit, he'd never compare to the lords and ladies that were attending. He blushed in embarrassment.

 

“I'm still allowed to come?” he asked, and if Sith hadn't been nearby, Ryou was sure Mello would smack him. Mello's good eye twitched as if he looked upon the stupidest creature that could've been spat out of Oblivion. In his eyes, he very well may have. He grabbed Ryou's wrist.

 

“Come!? You're escorting my wife, you idiot!” the older man yelled, pushing through the crowds, “Come on, we have to get you ready before Sack-o-Scales out there has a conniption fit.” Ryou didn't even try to protest, knowing he was thankful Mello still let him attend. They pushed onwards, but even with Mello's authority, it still took a good ten minutes before they even reached the spiraling staircase that led to the common bedrooms. Ryou was relieved to see no one was about the staircase, and from then on, Mello kept their pace at an impatient run. Within the span of two minutes, they were from the staircase to the doorway into Ryou's chambers, and even then, Mello was already taking Ryou's shirt off and handing him the appropriate linen and armor befitting a knight. Ryou dressed quickly and quietly, though he heard Mello was still speaking even as they worked. The poor man seemed frantic, Ryou thought.

 

“…and I certainly don't want Sack-o-Scales having any reason to drag me away again,” Mello said grimly, as Ryou pulled the chain mail over his shirt and then strapped on two armored shoulder pads, “Come on, come on!” Ryou grumbled, wishing Mello would stop rushing him and let him dress, but finally he was ready. He took only the briefest glance in the mirror at himself; Mello barely allowed that, and he couldn't believe what he saw. He looked like a warrior straight from one of his RPGs. But the armor was real. It certainly felt heavy enough and was shining enough. He would've laughed, but right then, Mello pulled him by the wrist out the door. Ryou yelped, but found he couldn't stop the man from going straight to the ballroom. He'd have had to let his arm be ripped off.

 

The ballroom was packed to the gills with people as Ryou stood waiting at the doorway to escort Sith to the altar. Mello had left to stand at his place, waiting anxiously, but with his confident grin still intact. Katt, Anzu, and Miho all stood as maids of honor, and Ryou saw that Matt, whom he thought would be with Sith, was the best man. He blinked. Without Sith there, it felt awkward. But the organs began to play in the background, and he felt someone walk up behind him. As he turned, he saw it was Sith. Her wedding gown at his ceremony had been beautiful, but now she looked immaculate. The gown flowed around her, sparkling with pearls and diamonds and reflecting the light from the sconces. The bodice was well-fitted and lace sprang up her neck and down her arms, to end in a white choker and two satin gloves respectively. But her veil was what drew Ryou's attention. It was long, flowing down to the floor and beyond, and it hid most of her hair, save for a few stray black locks and her bangs. She had removed her glasses for now; only her green eyes contrasted the color of her gown. In her hands were three white lilies. Ryou felt the blush creeping onto his face.

 

“Are you nervous?” he whispered to her as she stood by his side. She glanced at him, and nodded, giving a weak smile.

 

“Twenty years of waiting and we'll see what makes of it,” she replied, and at that, Ryou nodded. Then, he offered her his arm and they began to walk into the ballroom, toward the altar. Bahamut stood, though he had taken his guise of an old man for the day, and when he saw Sith, he smiled warmly. Ryou saw Mello's eyes widen, and couldn't help but laugh in his head. Obviously, Sith had caught his attention as well. When they finally reached the altar, Ryou let go of Sith and stood beside Matt, watching as Bahamut made a gesture over Sith's head. Then he opened an old tome and looked down into it.

 

“We are gathered here today to witness the spirit of matrimony between Sith Winchester and Mihael Keehl,” he began, and Ryou was surprised that his voice sounded as raspy as it did, “Sith Winchester, do you swear to stand by this man, to take him as your husband, to love through sickness and health?”

 

“I do,” Sith replied solemnly, and the old man turned to Mello.

 

“And do you take this woman as your wife, to love through sickness and health?” he asked. Ryou half-expected Mello to come out with a smart-assed remark, but Mello nodded seriously, looking at Sith.

 

“I do,” he replied. The old man seemed to smile, but just for a second as he looked around the large crowd in the room. It had grown silent since Sith walked in, and Ryou couldn't help but wonder what the old man was waiting for.

 

“If anyone has reason that these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Bahamut said, and everyone now turned to Ryou. Even Mello risked a quick glance, and Ryou turned red in embarrassment. He shook his head quickly, and Bahamut smiled wryly as he said, “Then I pronounce you man and wife.” Cheers erupted from every corner as Mello bent and kissed Sith. Even Ryou cheered for them both, though not as much as everyone else seemed to, since his sword kept threatening to overbalance him. But Sith seemed pleased enough, and when the cheering stopped, the dancing portion of the celebration began. Traditionally, the bride and groom were the ones to start the first dance, and this was no exception. As Sith and Mello moved across the dance floor, other couples began to slowly come out from the sidelines as well. Among them were Malik and Katt, as well as Kaiba and Anzu, and Ryou smiled at them all. But when Mello suddenly brought Sith over, Ryou gave the king a quizzical look, wondering if there was a problem.

 

“Something wrong?” he asked with a raised brow. But Mello just snorted, and his usual cocky grin spread across his face. If he came to mock Ryou, he was going to be speared.

 

“No, but custom dictates that gentlemen of the court dance with the queen,” Mello reminded him with a tone of amusement, “And since you're of the court…” Ryou's eyes widened, and clearly this was news to him. Sith almost laughed at his wild confusion, but she held it. Likewise, Ryou looked from her, to her husband.

 

“You're serious?” he whispered, and Sith nodded, even though Mello was the one who spoke.

 

“Hey, if you don't want to dance, I'll keep her,” the man stated simply, but a warning from Sith kept him from saying anything even more offensive. Ryou just smiled and offered his arm, which Sith took.

 

“It'd honor me,” Ryou told him, and with a wave, Mello let them be off. They went toward the middle of the dance floor, but no one really seemed to take notice. That was fine with both of them. Quietly, Ryou said, “I'm really happy for you, Sith.”

 

“Thank you,” the queen replied kindly, as he twirled her slowly, “For the first time in my life, I'm happy for me, too.” Ryou hummed as she said this, finding that to be a little more than disturbing to him. She had lived for a long time. How much regret did she have? Ryou asked her that, and after a moment's thought, she spoke again, “I've done many things, Ryou. But not once was it ever for myself. This was entirely for me.”

 

“…why did you listen to Katt?” he asked her after another moment, and now his voice took on an almost monotonous sound. The question obviously caught Sith off-guard. She stopped suddenly, but before anyone noticed, she continued. Her movements, however, were slower.

 

“What else would I have done?” she countered, and Ryou saw her half-smile, “Ryou, when you have no idea what's right and wrong, sometimes you make choices that harm everyone when you think you're doing the right thing. I made that choice for you and for her.”

 

“You didn't want to hurt me,” he concluded, and she nodded.

 

“No one said I was perfect at preventing it, though.”

 

“But you weren't happy,” Ryou reminded her, but again, her tone sounded completely calm. Her grin grew.

 

“Not particularly, but who of us can say we're truly happy?” she asked him, and now he found himself stumped, too, “Would you have been happy? Were you?” Ryou looked down, and Sith didn't need his answer. The truth had been, neither of them were. Only Ryou was too afraid to admit that. He shook his head.

 

“I see your point,” he conceded, but it was with good nature, “So then, what will you do with your newfound happiness?” Sith just laughed at the question. If only Ryou were as old as she, he wouldn't have even asked that. He seemed to guess the premise of her answer. A sly grin rose on his face too.

 

“Same as I've done before: whatever I wish, most likely,” she answered frankly, “I won't stay in the palace forever. And I love drinking too much to never leave this castle again.” Ryou's smile dropped a bit, but only because his expression went flat. He had never particularly liked Sith's drinking habits; more often than not, it was what sparked some of her most brilliant fights with Bakura. Knowing his unease, she changed the subject, “What of you? Any plans to your future?”

 

“None yet, but when I return home, I might take up ironsmith,” he said, and when she rose an amused brow, he said, “I've come to like it. And I'm good at it, too. What!?” He saw she wasn't entirely convinced of that. She laughed again, shaking her head.

 

“I meant starting your own family, or pursuing your own happiness,” she replied, “You helped me find mine, and I want to help you with yours.” Ryou blushed a bit, but he snorted. That was like Sith. He shrugged, not really having put any thought into it. Truth be told, he had thought he'd have been married to Sith for years before ever considering leaving her. He didn't say that, though.

 

“Six months isn't exactly a lot of time to go finding a new wife, Sith,” he said bluntly, and noticed Mello had been close by. And unfortunately, he had heard them both, too. He walked toward them with his grin still on his face.

 

“Why not? It was enough time for me,” the blonde man said smugly, to which Sith's cheeks went crimson.

 

“Mihael!” she scolded, but as usual, all that did was elicit a laugh from her husband.

 

“Sorry that not all of us are as perfect as you,” Ryou stated pointedly, but Mello either didn't understand the sarcasm, or ignored it entirely. He shrugged his shoulders as Ryou gave him Sith's hand.

 

“Not everyone can be, my friend,” he said with absolute sincerity. Ryou wanted to say that it was Mello's entire belief that he actually was the best that made everyone hate him, but he didn't feel up to fighting. He shrugged, and just let the man be. They'd come to a truce; there wasn't a need to break it yet.

 

The party ended. The ceremony was done. Time continued on, and before Ryou knew it, he had all of the statues fixed up, and was now celebrating his nineteenth birthday in less than a week. By that time, Sith had said it was more than due for him to return home, and he was grateful to go. He loved Nesce. He loved Sith, too. But now his work in Nesce was done; the Espers had repaired most of the lost kingdom while he whittled at the statues. The farewell was a short one. Both he and Sith felt it was better that way, but she did allow Bakura through to bring him back. And after a small talk with Sith, Bakura was now leading Ryou out of the passage and into the Lion's Gate. Sith had been generous enough to see them both that far. As they went through the dark, damp tunnel, Bakura was aware Ryou was glancing at him.

 

“What did Sith need?” the boy asked him, and Bakura frowned slightly. Then he shrugged casually.

 

“She's sad to see us go, but she wanted me to know she's going to look into setting up a gate that'll take us directly into Aeroglyph's courtyards if we need her,” Bakura replied. Ryou sighed in relief. That might just come in handy, but when it would was a long way off. The Mystics were gone now.

 

When they stepped out of the tunnel, it opened up into a sunny, warm shoreline where cliff faces stared back at them like stony sentinels. The sky was a clear blue, a somewhat stark contrast to the cloudy days Ryou had seen in Nesce. It was a welcome sight. Bakura continued to chatter, by now going aimlessly to how he could abuse Sith's newest gift for them, but Ryou had stopped listening. He turned back toward where the gate was. It was a simple cave that crawled up from the ocean on his side; he guessed that Sith had used a bit of power to make the remains of what had once been their connectors a little less conspicuous. But as he looked up, he saw, just very faintly, a shimmering outline of where Nesce had been, when it had been stranded in his world.

 

That was the last reminder he needed. Nesce had long since been removed from his world, though the concentration of the old citadel was still strong. But it wasn't real anymore; it wasn't in his world any longer, and if anyone tried to go near the sparkling mist, they'd pass right through it. A reminder; that was all it was now. He glanced at the grotto he and Bakura had stepped out of, and found that the passage was black as night now. The portal was closed for now. He knew he wouldn't be going back any time soon, or if even at all. He and Sith had both done their parts for each other's lives, and each had saved the other's world in different ways. Taking a breath, he saluted to the faint mist. And then he turned and followed Bakura toward the road home. He didn't look back even once.

 

---

 

Five years later…

 

Ryou's life had settled back to being as normal as it could've been. Now twenty-four, he had found a place of his own, and had started a small shop where he sold trinkets and figurines that he carved from ore. He hadn't kidded with Sith when he told her ironwork was his trade. And as she had promised as always, she helped him. Trade had boomed between many different worlds, with Rath dead, and Kaiba had done well to keep up with Sith. As a result, Ryou had a multitude of ore to choose from. Which meant he had a very robust business.

 

The trinkets he made were all from memories of his life concerning Sith. He felt everyone needed to know what had happened; his world had been affected most brilliantly by it, and people had begun taking an interest in the stories that Bakura told as Ryou carved their requests. Many thought it was for show, but some did believe it. Ryou didn't truly care either way. As long as he could put a little bit of Sith's ordeal, of her magic into them, he was happy. But on that day in particular, he had finished a carving he'd been working on since what would've been her twenty-eighth birthday. It was a small, delicate figurine of Sith herself. He had worked carefully; it was no more than six inches tall, and the ore he used for her was very delicate and chipped too easily. But he was good at his trade. Every detail was exactly as he remembered her: the wave of her hair, the flow of her overcoat, how her eyebrows looked, and of course, her sly smile. And when he finished, he could only smile. It looked ready to come to life.

 

“True piece of work there, kiddo,” Bakura said proudly, patting Ryou on the back, “There's a customer out front, though.” Ryou put down the rag he used to polish the statuette, and walked toward the front of the store, the statuette in his hand to put in the display case. There was a little boy, perhaps ten, standing and looking at all of the artwork.

 

“May I help you, little one?” Ryou asked with a chuckle, as the boy obviously had been nervous about coming in here. He turned and looked up at Ryou with bright eyes.

 

“I want a trinket!” he declared, and Ryou smiled warmly.

 

“What one?” he asked, and the boy looked around carefully. There were dragons, and large felines, and all sorts of monsters Ryou had seen before. But inevitably, the boy's eyes fell on the one in Ryou's hand. He pointed.

 

“Her!” he said cheerfully, “I want the lady!” Ryou frowned slightly, looking at the statuette. He made it for Sith. But then he looked at the boy again. He seemed so pleading, and he wanted the statuette. Sith would've given it to him; she wanted children to be kept safe, and if the boy believed it could do that, she'd have handed it over. He smiled warmly, and handed the statuette to him.

 

“Take good care of her for me, okay?” he said, and winked, “She's magical, and magic needs to be protected.”

 

“Just like Bakura says!” the boy exclaimed, and Ryou laughed. Bakura had become well-renowned for his storytelling, as exaggerated and sometimes untrue as they were. But Ryou just shrugged. At least he was getting people interested in magic again. He nodded.

 

“Just as Bakura says,” he repeated quietly, and waved as the boy ran out to present the trinket to his mother. Then he let out a sigh. Bakura had come out and laid a hand on his shoulder, but neither said a thing. Just like that, Sith was gone again. But again, she'd be going to a place she belonged. Ryou smiled. And then he turned and went to the back to begin another trinket.

 

---

 

One thousand years later…

 

Sith had never planned to go back to Domino City. After leaving that world, she vowed and swore on her life that she would never go back to bring the horrifying after-effects of magic to that world ever again. But one thousand years was a long time, and Bahamut was still in much need of her even then. And, she had not forgotten what Ryou had seen, one thousand years ago, when he and Malik traveled to the future. She didn't think she would have, but nor had she thought it would happen. They had changed the course of history, she was sure. They had defeated Rath, the greatest source of evil that could've plagued any of their worlds.

 

And yet, the cataclysm happened. It washed out all forms of life save for a scant few, bringing with it an uprising of the undead. They hadn't changed a damn thing. Defeating Rath held it off, but did nothing more. And when Sith received the frantic message from the three bards explaining that Domino was at the end of its life, she knew immediately why. She left Aeroglyph on the double with Mello, Aeon, and Matt.

 

And now she stood there, at the cliffs of Mount Domino, overlooking what had once been a sprawling, beautiful city full of humans and Espers alike; what had once been her own home, long ago. But now it was a desolate region of nothingness. The cataclysm wiped it out in a flourish of fire and destruction, and nothing had survived. Only the scantest ruins of the old city remained. The only saving grace was that Ryou and the others were not alive for any of it.

 

“Never once had I thought I'd return here and find the city like this,” she whispered, unable to believe that, after all of this, the world was destroyed nonetheless, “Everything… destroyed.” Mello had walked behind her and laid a hand on his wife's shoulder. She let out a long sigh, lowering her head as she said, “And once I had thought I saved this place.”

 

“You did, lady Sith,” Aeon replied calmly, looking down beside her, “But no one, not even I, saw that the cataclysm would come back. Rath isn't the only evil in Oblivion now. We know this.”

 

“The question is, what do we do about it?” Mello asked grimly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the wasteland below. There was a breeze that stirred the dunes of sand and ash, but the smell of death was still strong. Fighting would be done here that night, they all knew. Sith's lip quivered as she realized what this meant. She had sat on her throne long enough, and Oblivion still needed her. She unsheathed her sword.

 

“We do as we've done before,” she replied calmly, and looked up at him, “We fight off the horde.” Mello gave her a grin. In his thousand-year life in Aeroglyph, it hadn't faded, and was as cocky as ever. He was as cocky as ever, and the vanity gained from immortality made it more so.

 

“To the death?” he asked her in sly amusement. But her nod was stiff.

 

“To my death, at least,” she joked. But no one laughed; Sith was the only one among them now who could still be killed. Aeon was immortal since the beginning of time; Matt and Mello had both died in their own worlds already. Sith was old, but not undefeatable. Mello shrugged, knowing she was more serious than she let on, and turned, putting an arm around Aeon's shoulder as the two spoke briefly about what the night would bring. But Sith stayed for a moment longer. And looked down. There was a sparkle in the sand, something that caught her eye, and bending down, she uncovered it. It was a small statuette of her, with perfect likeness, even down to the miniature sword on her hip. Head tilting in curiosity, she examined it. It was masterfully crafted, and when she looked at the bottom, she found an inscription in Esper: `To you, Sith. R.' And slowly, she smiled. The statuette survived the cataclysm, but its maker had died long before. She turned back to the city, and smiled warmly, pocketing the statuette. The battles about to be fought here would be trying, but she would save the world again, as she had one thousand years before. She raised an arm in salute.

 

“Rest in peace, Ryou,” she whispered, “I'll see you on the other side, my friend.” And then she turned to join her husband and closest companions. She did not expect to win this round of battle anymore. But with all of her friends, and even her husband technically dead, it no longer mattered. She would fight to the bitter end, just like she always did, and she always would do. If she managed to live.

 

-----------------------------(End story)

 

And so, the saga depicting Ryou's friendship with Sith, and the struggle against the evil of the Mystics is now done. Thank you for reading the entire saga. Your support means more to me than you know. And remember, above all else, to click that Review button.