"Hello?" Ryou wandered into the store, lowering the hood from his head. There weren't any customers and Malik Ishtar and his adoptive brother Riishid were his friends, who knew about his white hair anyway. "Masa'a alkair (1)!"

"Ryou! Ya aziz (2)! Over here!"

Malik shoved a thick curtain, separating the store from the workshop, out of the way and closed the distance between him and Ryou by taking the latter in an embrace.

"So good to see you! You've been to Azzamehmid?"

Ryou nodded. "It was a bit boring, but he's a great teacher."

Unlike Yugi, Malik was more of Ryou's height so he didn't need to look down. The Egyptian's blonde hair was an unique feature, but combined with his lavender eyes and the excess of golden jewelry he always wore, made him really stand out. Malik had a lavishly use of kohl, not only around the eyes, but also a typical line that went a little bit over the cheekbone. Ryou had never asked about the origin of those lines; he just assumed it came from some ancient tradition of Malik's family- the one he wasn't talking about. Despite his striking features, Malik was just a commoner, working as an apprentice goldsmith, together with Riishid. Ryou knew that it bothered Malik, but he didn't know exactly how much- he knew about the hopes and dreams of his long life friend, and those didn't compass working at a hot furnace in Thebes. Ryou was far more moderate with his ambitions, and even though Malik made a pretty composed and calm impression, there was something simmering under his bronze skin; smoldering, waiting for the right spark to ignite.

Malik eyed the bags Ryou was holding. "You went shopping?"

"I had to stop by the temple to get some more incense," Ryou answered.

"Yugi's grandfather?"

Ryou nodded again. Malik hopped onto one of the benches and shoved some tools of his trade aside.

"I can ask my sister to pray for him or to consult her Tauk, you know."

"I'm sure Yugi'd appreciate it, but Solomon is an old man and frankly… though I don't want him to go, he's had a good life. He's at the end of his line now, and there's nothing we can do about it. The only thing we can do is to relieve the daily discomfort. The incense alleviates his coughing, so…"

"How's Yugi doing?"

"He doesn't want to see it. He denies… he denies that it's soon time for his grandfather, and then… I don't know how he'll cope."

"Yugi's strong. He'll pull through. It'll be a tough time, but that's hardly surprising. The man's his only family."

"We're his family too."

Malik smiled. He wasn't that close to Yugi as Ryou was, but they were certainly friends. Their friendship would've probably been stronger if they could meet more often in person, but Malik couldn't leave the shop behind and Yugi didn't venture out much because of his striking resemblance to the Pharaoh.

"Malik! I thought I heard… Ryou, what a surprise!"

"Riishid," Ryou greeted the tall man, who entered the shop via the curtain. He was Malik's adoptive brother and a pretty good goldsmith. Ryou often wondered how Riishid could work with the fine precious metals; nothing was small or little about this man, and certainly not his hands.

"Malik, Ryou, do you want something to drink? Are you staying for dinner?"

Malik looked with anticipation to Ryou, and hid his disappointment when his friend declined.

"Thanks for the offer, but I have to go home. Yugi'll want to have the incense as soon as possible."

"His grandfather?" Riishid inquired. Ryou answered affirmatively.

"Thank you for stopping by," Malik said. "Come see us again soon. Won't you come over for dinner, sometime? Take Yugi with you."

"That'd be wonderful," Ryou answered. "I'll keep you posted about the situation."

"Sure. Bye!" Malik and Riishid said and waved their friend goodbye.

"Ryou thankfully doesn't change," Riishid said, while busying himself with cleaning some of the tools. Malik had picked up a broom. "He's sure grown up to a kind, compassionate young man."

Malik snorted. "How admirable those traits might be, they won't come in handy if he really wants to be a judge. He'll has to apply the regular laws and regulations, and won't be able to do justice with his heart."

"The legal system will be too harsh for Ryou. He'd make a fine Priest though," Riishid said.

"He certainly would," a female voice chimed in. "We can always use a stable, restful person who can keep his head straight."

"Aishizu!" Malik fairly screamed, and dropped his broom to charge at the slender woman, and embraced her so tightly she started to squeal.

"Malik.. brother… I need air!"

He put her down, apologizing for his rough treatment. She smiled, but her eyes quickly scanned the store, darting from left to right.

It was common use that family ties were severed when one became a priest or priestess; after all, he or she belonged to a different social class. There were classes amongst priests themselves, almost forming a little society on their own. The priests of the temple were very much different from the ones of the Royal Palace, who fulfilled more an advisory task to the Pharaoh and kept high ranks in military or political factions at the same time. The position and function of the temple priests were shrouded in mystery; and because of their vocations, the common people kept them in high regard. Most of the time, temple priests were all but worshipped because of their knowledge and power, and they did nothing short but keeping up that mystified position.

"Who was that boy?" She asked, while she took off her coat. Malik looked up.

"Huh? Oh, that was Ryou. He's studying for becoming a scribe."

"Remarkable…" The young woman said, while staring at the door where Ryou just left through. She shrugged uncharacteristically and quickly went to embrace Riishid. She held great love for both her brothers, supporting them in their decision to leave the extensive Ishtar family. She knew how much it hurt them; even though their branch of the family was far acquainted from the most 'pure-blooded', direct descendants from the main Ishtar line, the traditions and rules of the Tomb Keepers clan wasn't something easy to leave behind.

The Priestess knew much about her family, knew about the most horrid initiation ritual the son and heir was exposed to, and was thankful that this didn't have to happen to Malik. Her vocation for Priestess made it more easy to leave the family, and at the day she left she appropriated the Tauk herself. Only in her deepest nightmare she'd admit that she was ashamed that she took the Item herself, but she also knew which Item the son and heir of the Tomb Keepers had taken and she knew about the hate and anger that flowed through his veins.

"Malik, you need to listen to me."

"Sister, please sit down, I'll get you something to drink…"

"There's no time. Riishid, stay, please, you need to hear this too."

"Something wrong?" The tall man's face scrunched up in a worried expression. "Aishizu…"

"Riishid, Malik, we share the same background. A blessed and a cursed background. I've come to tell you that our family name will come to haunt us once again."

"What? Are you implying that the family wants us back? But.. but they told us they'd leave us alone! I'm too far at the bottom of the line of direct descendants for the.. the ritual!"

"Malik, please, calm down." Riishid came to stand next to Malik, as the protective brother he'd always been. "Let your sister finish."

She shook her head. "The Tauk granted me visions… visions of the future, in which the Ishtar family will come closer and be torn once again. We're going to play a great part in this future- and not a very good one, I'm afraid."

"Aishizu…"

"I've seen so much hate, so much golden hate. I don't know what to make of it. I've seen you in my visions, Malik. You were in the middle of something gold, and there was something resembling a big, no, giant bird, almost dragon-like. I think, no, I'm sure… I'm sure that you're the half of a soul, Malik."

"What?"

"You have to find your Dark half," Aishizu continued. "The other half of your soul. You have to find it before it's too late. I don't know how much time there's left…"

"Sister, that prophecy was old before long," Malik interrupted her. He knew what she meant with her saying 'being blessed and cursed'; the Ishtars were renowned and famous for their historical knowledge and obsessive love for books and their collection of old artifacts. The blessed part was that the Ishtars had access to and formed large networks of extensive knowledge. Through one of these networks, Aishizu once had learned what Malik had dubbed "the Dark halves prophecy", though from what the Priestess had gathered, it looked more like a rumor, a fable, to him than a prophecy.

"Don't, Malik, just please, don't." She looked up, her blue eyes filled with determination. "Don't do this to me. I know it's true, and I know it's going to pass. All the Dark halves and the Light halves are present and close to each other. They're here to form the wholes of a being that's going to put a stop to the Shadow Realm and its monsters."

Malik bowed his head. He'd heard the rumors on the streets, and knew that the reporting of monsters was more and more common. Both he and Riishid knew to distinct fantasy from reality; the threat of the Shadow Realm was real.

"The Pharaoh is wise in his decisions, but he's blind in the dark and doesn't know which way to take. He's going to need every bit of his strength, every helping hand he can get. I have to talk to him, warn him, and make him clear what's about to happen. These are going to be dark times, Malik. Promise me, that whatever happens… you'll believe."

"I believe, I promise," Malik answered her, sounding very young and childlike. Aishizu smiled, a pained expression flashed over her face.

"I have to get back to the Palace," she said, barely a whisper. "I'll pray for you, my little brother. I'll pray to every deity to protect you in these dark times."

She was gone as fast as she'd entered, leaving the two Ishtars baffled. It was until now that Malik realized he held a death-like grip onto the broomstick. As if he was burned, he dropped it to the floor.

"Riishid…"

"I know."

He turned around and left for the workshop, chores forgotten. Malik gritted his teeth. He'd promised to his sister, but what was there to believe? Those bits and pieces of her visions, granted to her by a golden object, that was not to be trusted from the beginning? It was because of those cursed Items that the Ishtar family broke up and that caused so much grief. If only he had one of those Items himself… he shook his head. He was already glad he didn't have to subject to that Tomb Keepers initiation ritual he heard so much about; that was only 'destined' for the son and heir of the clan. Malik wondered for a slight moment.

Dark halves, dark times.. Aishizu really was a pessimistic person. His sister could be pretty gloomy because of her duties and tasks, but she'd always maintained a calm and levelheaded attitude. These visions must've gotten more to her than she wanted to let on.

---

Atemu carefully rolled up the papyrus and put it back in its small, clay container. The last notes and diary entries of his father still puzzled him; he was sure that a lot of answers were hidden in Akunamukanon's writings, but he just couldn't find them, nor figure out the cryptic references. He refused to believe his father was insane or impaired in any other way when writing this down – Atemu had intensively studied the notes, comparing them to Akunadin's writings and his own discoveries concerning the "Shadow Realm", again and again. Someone coughing politely next to him interrupted his train of thoughts. It was a servant.

"Pharaoh, Shimon Muran and priest Mahaado are here to see you."

"Finally!" Atemu almost spat into the face of the poor servant, who shrunk back from his Pharaoh. "Send them in!"

"We're already here," Shimon said and motioned the servant to leave. The elder advisor sat down in a teak chair, fanning himself, while the priest remained standing. Atemu wasn't used to see a pained and distressed look on the face of his most loyal priest. Mahaado was, as one of a very select few, intensively trained and skilled in wielding magic; pure, unaltered magic- the same magic that enabled him to deal with the current influx of monsters. He was also very convinced of the existence of a Shadow Realm, as soon as he heard Shimon's theories and speculations about it- Mahaado had always believed in the presence of multiple realms or 'planes', some visible and some invisible to the human eye. It was suffice to say that Seto wasn't that fond of Mahaado and his realms either.

"You look tired, Mahaado," Atemu tried to break the ice.

The Priest nodded. "My Pharaoh, sightings and reports of the monsters are increasing at an alarming rate. The streets are filled with more and more panicked rumors, upsetting and confusing the people. I can't deal with all these monsters myself; it drains too much of my magic."

"Shadi and Karim are assisting you wherever they can, aren't they?" Atemy asked.

"Yes, my Pharaoh. Together with their Items, they're of invaluable help," Shimon answered. "With his Ankh, Shadi can stabilize the monster and with his Scales, Karim can determine whether it's a good or a bad monster."

Atemu snorted. It was only recently that Shimon had told him about his theory that, even in the ominous Shadow Realm, there were good monsters and bad monsters- Atemu had chosen not to react, as the idea of a war among those monsters was really too much for him to comprehend. Still, Shimon had been very adamant about it.

"Mahaado is the only one with effective power and magic to put a stop at these creatures. If only we had the other Items, or knew of a way to connect them…" Atemu mused.

"I'm sorry I can't help you with that," Shimon said, low in his throat.

"It's not your fault, Shimon. My father didn't involve you in the process, though I'd give up half of my Kingdom for the other Items, or at least for the proper knowledge how to stop this threat."

"My Pharaoh, I've been sensing these strong currents lately," Mahaado said, in his usual, calm voice. "Bad currents. Something is shifting in the magical plane, like the Scales going out of balance. There are so many powers in this world that we don't understand, Pharaoh. Some of these powers are manifested in the monsters we've seen lately… and I think there's more to come. Some of these powers is heading towards us, one way or the other."

"Can you… probe or something, if this magic is good or bad?"

"From what I sense, my Pharaoh, this power is divided into multiple torrents. I can't really express what I'm feeling. From what I've gathered, it feels like strong pride, determination and hatred; a very bizarre mix of emotions. All I know is that it doesn't feel right."

"Hatred? That reminds me of what Aishizu said: "We're in for a very tough time, Pharaoh. A tough time that's going to demand sacrifices from us, and giving nothing but sadness and torture in return. I've seen blue skies, red blood and golden hate. I'm sorry, so sorry."

"Blue skies, red blood and golden hate?" Mahaado repeated the words. "I don't get it…" He shifted from one foot to the other. "Why would there be so much hate?"

"May I remind you that Aishizu's Tauk has always worked perfectly, and that we have to take this vision of her very seriously?" Shimon mentioned. As the eldest advisor, his word held much power, much to Seto's infuriation. The tall High Priest had an unhealthy dose of aversion to anything the elder man said, certainly if it pertained to the monster sightings and the Shadow Realm.

"How serious can we take a vision of blue skies, red blood and golden hate, and feelings of anxiety and danger? There's something coming our way, and there's nothing we can do! I want to protect my people, and I don't know what from! From those monsters, that keep appearing and disappearing, from that Shadow Realm of yours that somehow seems to exist. How serious do you want me to be when talking about beating something that I can't see?"

Shimon looked defeated. Mahaado clenched his fists.

"My Pharaoh, you have my word that I'll do everything in my power to help you and to put an end to this!"

Atemu pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, Mahaado, I know. It's not your fault- it's not anyone's fault." He looked up. "Shimon, you must tell me everything that you can remember from what my father told you about the Items."

"I already told you everything I know, my Pharaoh. Your father mostly spoke with priest Akunadin- I was only an advisor, and my advice wasn't requested for this issue. He took this matter in his own hand, decreasing the number of people involved; probably to prevent the news from leaking out or arousing panic or suspicion. I don't even know where the rest of the Items are and how they work. We miss the Rod, the Ring, and the Eye- the most powerful ones, besides the Puzzle , and we haven't succeeded in tracking them down, even with the help of Aishizu's Tauk. It really is a shame. I'm sorry Pharaoh, but-"

"'I'm sorry' doesn't help me!" Atemu raised his voice. "Call the Priests together. We're going to look for those Items and figure out how they work ourselves. If need be, we test them out and learn from our mistakes. If this Shadow Realm needs to be contained, than contain it we will."

Mahaado looked shocked at the outburst, but changed his expression to one of determination. "I will warn the others."

"Aishizu is not here at the moment," Shimon said tentatively, eyeing Atemu. "She went out… to…"

"Visit her younger brother," the Pharaoh filled in. He knew about the unwritten tradition of severing family ties after the initial vocation, and couldn't blame his only female advisor to get family sick. He decided to let it slide. It was a dumb tradition to him anyway; one of the many he wanted to adjust or abolish. It were moments like these he wished he wasn't surrounded by elder advisors or priests, but with friends he could count on no matter what, or a younger brother himself, for talking to. If only father and mother hadn't died so young and left him with this nation to reign- he put an end to these thoughts and shifted in his chair.

"You're excused, Mahaado. Shimon, stay a while."

The priest took a bow, his headpiece slightly revealing some strands of his long, chestnut hair, and turned around to leave the room. Shimon made himself comfortable in the chair, digging up papers from his robe and putting them on the desk. Atemu bit his lip, took a deep sigh, and helped the elder man spreading out the papers.

---

It was silent in the bedroom. Akeifa traced lazily circles on Mariku's chest. Even in sleep, his Egyptian friend seemed tensed and plagued by the anger and hate he'd felt his entire life; Akeifa couldn't remember for the life of him if he'd ever seen Mariku really relaxed or free from any worries.

The cotton curtains moved in the faint early evening breeze, filtering the setting sunlight to an impressive palette of golden and orange colors. Clothing was strewn all over the marble floor, and one particular item caught a glimpse of the golden light. The peculiar rod with the sphere and the tipped wing blades caught the thief's attention. This item was a part of the infamous Millennium Items. Seven Items, and he already had one- the Ring. The thief wondered what was so important about the Items. Mariku had mentioned opening the Gates of Hell, and that something called the Shadow Realm didn't settle with him well either.

On the other hand, that much money would settle him for the rest of his life, a comfortable, luxurious life. Akeifa had been fleeing and running his entire life, and a mansion and settling down sounded nice to him. If he asked Mariku for advice, maybe he could set up a business like him. The idea of the King of Thieves becoming a 'honest' tradesman made him snort. So many gold for the Items. They were obviously important, not to mention the Gates of Hell and that Shadow Realm thing... Akeifa grinned. Maybe he could use the Items for himself. Knowledge was power, and half of Mariku's empire was built on exclusive knowledge, available to the highest bidder.

Mariku shifted and moved his head a bit to the left. Absent mindedly, Akeifa played with the long strands of sun bleached hair. For some reason, Mariku's thick hair never felt smooth, but always coarse and unkempt, even more so than his own. Akeifa buried his hands in the hair and tugged a little, but didn't get a reaction.

The one thing Akeifa appreciated most about Mariku was that he never asked questions, never whined and never moped about being alone or being left out. Akeifa knew that they didn't share much but the occasional night together and he sure as hell didn't feel anything for Mariku in terms of love or commitment. Still, he owed the Egyptian much. After the destruction of his birth village Kuru Eruna, and walking around with much hate and anger on his own, Akeifa had nowhere to go and nothing to eat or to live for until Mariku found him and took him to his own house, underground.

"You know, I can hear you think."

"At least I'm thinking."

"Ha ha." Mariku turned around to face him. Bland violet eyes rested upon the King of Thieves. "Something the matter? You look worried."

"No, not worried." Akeifa forced himself to look Mariku straight in the eyes. That was the one thing he appreciated the least about him- his eyes. Mariku's lavender eyes bore no pupils, and always wore the same lifeless expression. It made it very difficult to read his expression, and dangerous to boot for the thief, who judged his predicament by the look of one another's eyes. He believed that anger and pain had burned out every single emotion in Mariku's eyes, about the same time the young Egyptian had to undergo his Tomb Keeper initiation.

"Not worried," Mariku repeated. He darted with his tongue over his lips. "Why the worried look, then?"

"Those Items… they weren't forged from only gold, now were they?"

"No. They needed another sacrifice to make them work. The same sacrifice that's going to work against them."

Kuru Eruna. A whole village was slaughtered and sacrificed to forge golden Items no one knew even the purpose of. Akeifa looked at Mariku, who just stared back at him.

"The bastards."

A small smile showed itself on Mariku's face, before he promptly got up and moved so quickly out of the bed he matched Akeifa's speedy skills. He picked up a robe from the floor and threw it around him. No matter what position, Mariku never showed anyone his back or allowed touching it. Akeifa was aware of the heavy scars, carved into the tender flesh at a young age. He moved out of the bed on his own, looking for his sandals.

"Your father was really weird, you know that?"

"I'm well aware of that. Why else did you think I killed him?"

Mariku's smile was nothing short of outright creepy. Akeifa shuddered. He prided himself in being one of the greatest thieves- he didn't wear the title of King of Thieves for nothing- but he never killed before. Threatened to kill, knocked some people unconscious, broke a few limbs of those standing in his way- but never killed in cold blood.

"I'll do it."

"I knew you'd do it."

"One gold bag per item, one extra for the Pharaoh's Item."

"Deal," Mariku said. Akeifa grimaced. His suspicions were confirmed. If even Mariku agreed with the insane amount of gold for those Items, there was much more going on than he imagined. The thief started to dress himself- skirt, hooded robe, maroon cloak, and sandals- and started donning his jewelry.

"I need some time to prepare. One does not walk into the Royal Palace at night."

"Ask Bobasa for supplies. We have everything you need, and if we don't, I'll make sure we get it."

"I'll see him right away."

"Won't you join me for dinner?"

"Sure." Akeifa turned around. Mariku only wore the robe, hardly covering his body. "Dinner and more."

The satisfactory smile on Mariku's face pleased him somehow and he left the room in search for Bobasa. He felt those violet eyes bore into his back, for a long time to come.

Footnotes:

1) Masa'a alkair good afternoon

2) Ya aziz very informal way of saying "My friend", implies affection