DIS: Hooray. Twenty-three pages for this chapter. Can I get a ‘whoop-whoop’! More Anzu and less of Yami’s boring, worried hero personality, as Bakura would say, lol. Enjoy. Please read the note at the end of the chapter.

X

The Fairest Lady: Chapter Eight

Anzu woke early in the morning, before the sun had even risen. For a long moment, she lied in the bed, staring ahead of her in the darkness, listening to the quiet sounds of the forest outside. There were no sounds in the house that she could hear, save for her own breathing. Sitting up, she swung her feet over the bed and pulled the smaller quilt around her, cuddling into it and wincing at the cold that hit her feet as soon as she set them on the floor. Limping across the room, she slid her feet in the soft slippers Seto had provided for her to use until her foot healed and left the room.

Pausing in the corridor, Anzu once again listened, but there were no sounds from either Seto’s room or the new room that Bakura had created for Malik to sleep in. She wondered when he would retrieve his clothes, if at all. Pulling the quilt up to her chin, she slid down the stairs and then into the den where a fire was crackling low in the hearth. Spotting some firewood beside it on the brick layout, she tossed a log in and then settled in front of it, curled in the quilt. For it being so early and sleeping so restlessly, Anzu was not at all weary.

Bakura is horrid, she thought, half closing her eyes as she watched the glowing fire, comforted by the heat. He enjoys threatening me, like a cat playing with a mouse before devouring it. When is he going to kill me? He hates Yami so much, so why keep me alive? She sighed softly to herself, folding her arms over her knees and closing her eyes briefly, the quilt sliding down her back. A slight chill from behind her made her shiver and move to pull it back up. There was a slight sound behind her that made her freeze and whip around. In the doorway that led to the entrance hallway was Bakura, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed on her. When he saw that she had noticed his presence, an unpleasant smirk curled his lips upward. “Isn’t it a bit early for you to be awake?” He queried in a low tone, tilting his head slightly. She clutched the quilt tighter to herself, wondering just how long he had been standing there.

“I...couldn’t get back to sleep,” she feebly said. She didn’t have the energy to start a fight with him, let alone when there was no one else about. She felt slightly safer with Malik or Seto in the room. When it was just the two of them, her heart raced with fear. She had learned in the short time that she had been here that Bakura had near to no scruples. Killing her, ravaging her, beating her to a barely-living pulp – all were highly likely, knowing the type of man he was, except that he would make it ten times worse by using his sorcery. “Why are you awake?”

“I haven’t been to bed yet,” he answered calmly, seeming as unwilling to start an argument that early as she was. He paused. “Hmm...I suppose I will have to put a fireplace in your room to keep you from wandering. I’ll do that later.”

“I didn’t come down here because I was cold,” she stiffly said. “I didn’t want to stay up in that room, awake. I had a bedwarmer in my bed all night anyway.” One of his eyebrows rose sarcastically and she could see the snide comment on his face. For some reason, he did not voice it. Only when she peered at him carefully did she see how exhausted he truly was. She refused to feel any pity for him, though, especially since he had only just threatened to kill her the day before. Not even she would show pity to this monster. “Maybe you should go to bed,” she suggested blandly, so he did not mistake her statement for kindness.

“I have more important things to do than sleep,” he said. “But I hardly want to enjoy your loathsome company for another instant. I only came to see who was awake. Now that I see that it is just you, I’m returning to my room. Don’t go nosing about,” he added as an afterthought before turning and leaving her to stare after him, her face twisted into an ugly expression of hatred.

The man doesn’t know what his own opinion is! She snarled in her mind, turning and pulling the quilt over her head securely, glaring into the fire. I don’t have as fickle of emotions as he does, though. I knew I hated him when I first saw him and I most definitely still hate him and will always hate him! She threw another log into the fireplace and then toddled over to the divan, settling herself on it, huffing as she stared across at the fireplace. Even though I have a fire going and am wrapped in a quilt, Anzu thought a moment later after her anger had subsided, I feel so utterly cold. I miss Shizuka and Jounouchi and especially Yami. Any conversation here consists of threats, insults, and sexual innuendo. At least with Yami, he would tell me what he was thinking and let me help him figure it out. I’m alone now except for my thoughts. I can’t wait until my foot heals. I hope Seto’s plan works...

Closing her eyes, Anzu released a sigh, meaning to simply rest her eyes that felt as if they were burning from gazing at the fire too long. She never opened her eyes again, falling into a deep slumber, curled up on the divan. Behind her, Bakura crept from the corridor and frowned down at the sleeping princess. Releasing a sound of disgust, as though he knew exactly whom it had been that dwelled in Anzu’s last thoughts, he turned away from her and this time he did return to his chambers.

He hardly had time to deal with a forlorn princess. As he had told Anzu, he had more important things to think about. Bakura rarely had use for his old instruments from when he had been in the palace now that he was safe and had, more or less, mastered the Dark Arts. Most of the instruments that he used while working as court sorcerer were for rituals and Shaping objects, trapping dark magic inside of them so that they remained functioning. The cottage was Bakura’s most impressive object that he had Shaped through the Dark Arts. The barrier around it, contrary to his other house guests’ beliefs, held no defenses at all, but was made up completely of offensive Dark Magic. The animals knew better to approach the barrier. Any number of attacks would be directed at them through the magic endowed in the barrier. Bakura imagined himself to be rather clever from developing such a mechanism.

But the cottage, the barrier, or his companions were the last concern on his mind, although Anzu was proving to be rather mouthy for a princess. No, he was troubled by his apprentice in Kraion that he had so insulted. He had insisted that Mai was not responsible for the animals for a good reason. The animals were infested with their own magic, that of nature, which humans were originally gifted with from the Nature Spirits. There was no way that Mai could have manipulated the magic to such a deep level of corruption. Bakura had not bothered with explaining this to either Malik or Seto. Malik, Bakura was sure, had been taught this in Hoshäi at some point in his schooling and Seto would have to know something about the magic of the Spirits and beings that dwelled entirely in nature. That neither of them had thought about it annoyed Bakura.

However, he was inclined to believe that a djinn from the other realm or a similar creature had corrupted the magic in the Forest of Dim. Bakura could sense it, as any sorcerer or sorceress ought to, but it felt the same without the corruption. That was the only reason Bakura was willing to forgive his male companions’ idiocy.

While that clearly was not Mai’s doing, Anzu’s sudden appearance in the forest could only be because of the Princess of Kraion. After being forced to admit that Mai might be the reason for this entire situation, he began to consider over where he might assume she would start in her Dark Arts and came up with an unpleasant, but accurate, conclusion. He knew Mai better than her family. He spent his entire life observing people, recording their actions under different levels of emotional stress in his mind. Mai relied on one thing to keep her happy: power. Beautiful as she was, she had power over all men except for Yami and their father.

If she wanted more power, Bakura thought as he raised a hand, flames rising high on the wicks of his candles, than she would do as I did and contract a djinn from the other realm. This would explain how she was able to get Anzu to the Forest of Dim, but with a heavy price from Mai. It would have been simpler to kill Anzu in her sleep rather than drain herself so that her djinn could leave ritual space. Bakura watched as the flames flickered dangerously before lowering a bit. Mai will naturally use ritual every time to see her djinn. I have simpler ways of doing things...But I am not going to contract another djinn. The last one was trouble enough.

He leaned towards the flames and reached into the space between the flames, his hand disappearing as he groped thoughtfully for a moment. “What a nuisance,” he muttered, flinching as he jerked his hand back and the candles lowered to their regular height. “She’s more cautious than I would have anticipated.” He frowned down at his hand that was steadily turning from lavender to a violet and slowly to black. “Putting spells around her djinn...Clever. Most sorcerers don’t bother with protecting their djinns that way.” He smiled and waved a hand, all of the candles going out. His right hand was still black. He would seek Seto out first thing in the morning to deal with it.

Mai has no idea just who she is playing with. Malik, I’m sure, will be more successful in this. But for now, I want to experiment a little and see where my capabilities can get me. He smirked. And besides that, Mai doesn’t realize that I have Anzu with me, the one person she wants dead. I’ll be able to take both her and Yami down using the Princess of Siruean.

“Ahh...,” he sighed, collapsing in a chair and grinning rather disturbingly to himself. “Finally a reprieve from my dull existence.”

He had every intention of enjoying this, regardless of his or anyone else’s suffering.

X

A knock sounded in the quiet cottage, rousing Malik from his comfortable sleep. For a moment, it echoed in his dreams of Hoshäi and made his brow furrow in puzzlement as he stood in the middle of a desert, a curved war blade in his hand, dripping with blood. He turned from the corpse that was slumped in the sand and was faced with a door, much like the one that was on the room that Anzu slept in. There was another knock, more insistent, and he reached out with his empty hand, twisting the knob. For a moment, there was nothing but darkness and when he stepped forward, a ghastly face loomed from the black, hissing, “You abandoned me, brother.”

Malik’s eyes flew open just as his door swung open. He jerked to a sitting position, terrified. His heart rate slowed in relief as he saw that it was only Bakura who was outside his door. Perhaps he sensed Malik’s distress, for his eyes narrowed on him and then he shut the door behind him. Malik turned his face away and rubbed it, resting his hand on his forehead for a moment. His heart had not yet returned to its original beat. Since Anzu had arrived there, he had been able to escape the nightmares of his family in Hoshäi. She had occupied him with her drama. Now that she was settling down to rest, though, there was nothing to fill his mind whilst sleeping. “Is there a reason you woke me up?” He finally asked Bakura, raising his head. There was a brief moment when he feared Bakura might ask him if he had slept poorly. Malik knew that each of them had their problems and reasons for accepting their exiled state without much of a fight. Malik had once told Seto that Bakura had his reasons for being as he was, yet Bakura had never confided in him. Out of all of them, he upheld the flippant attitude that constantly masked whatever lied underneath. Malik could control himself in front of the other two sorcerers; however, there were simply some times when he needed to be alone and allow himself some weakness.

“I prefer you to be awake before Seto,” Bakura said after a pause. “Besides that, I’m going out into the forest to get a few things before breakfast. The girl is downstairs on the divan, sleeping. I don’t trust her, nor do I trust Seto to wake up and not sneak behind our backs to scheme with her. Do me a favor and go down there and make certain that she doesn’t do anything stupid. She’s a little too headstrong for my liking. Princesses are supposed to prim and proper. Hell, women aren’t even supposed to act the way she does!”

“Sexist, are we?” Malik queried with a dry smile. “I’ll watch her, Bakura. Go do whatever you need to do.” He rubbed his forehead and then frowned, staring at Bakura’s side where his hand was lying. He moved to stand up and see what it was that had happened to his hand, but Bakura seemed to foresee his intent and stepped back, pressing his hand behind him. “What have you been doing? It looks like you got into a fight with one of the creatures from the other world.”

“Do you honestly believe I am that stupid?” Bakura snorted, turning and opening the door. “Go downstairs and watch the girl.” He shut the door and Malik sat in bed, the covers spilling around his waist as he glowered at the door. It was so like Bakura to avoid a question by getting pissy and ordering him about. It was no fun when Bakura was always threatening Anzu or else she might actually be able to deflate his ego a bit. As it was, she feared him, along with hating him. Neither of those things made it easy for things to go smoothly between the two.

Sighing heavily, Malik got out of bed and shuffled across the room, ignoring the bite of the cold from the floor. He continued out of his room, along the corridor, and down the stairs. By the time he entered the den, Bakura had already gone and Anzu was sitting up on the divan with the quilt around her, staring around, disoriented by her surroundings. When she turned to look at him, she cast him an equally confused look and then her eyes dropped a bit and turned into saucers. She sputtered for a moment and then snapped, “Put some clothes on, would you?!” Her face reddened and she pulled the quilt up to her face, hiding it from him. He gave her a blank look.

“I do have my clothes on, thank you,” he responded. “Men tend to notice if they are naked far more easily than women do.”

“I meant go put a shirt on!!” She screeched from behind the quilt, lowering it to glare at him. He almost gave a pompous smirk when he noticed her gaze travel downward again, lingering on his chest. Living in Hoshäi, where enemies were numerous and the old ways of survival were imperative to one’s lifestyle, it was only natural that one must be in shape. And Malik was in very good shape. His slender, muscled chest and arms proved that much. He subdued the urge to gloat and tease her a bit, instead shrugging and moving back upstairs to grab a long-sleeved shirt and returning shortly afterward. She glanced at him, her lips pursed. “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

“Anything for you, princess,” he mockingly said.

“Please...I get enough sarcasm from Bakura. I really would prefer not to receive any from you, too.” He grinned at her and then settled on the divan next to her, tugging on the quilt. Reluctantly, she unpeeled it from its wrapped position about her body and allowed him to tuck himself underneath it, as well. He neither wanted to sleep nor stay awake; he did not want to return to the nightmares of his deceased brother, but he did not feel as though he had gotten enough sleep.

“I suppose you woke from Bakura?”

“I’m not sure,” she said thoughtfully, looking to him questioningly. “Did he leave? I don’t remember anything waking me up, only suddenly being awake. Why are you awake?”

“Because I woke up,” Malik replied serenely, his tone a good indication that this was not a topic to be discussed. He felt her gaze on his face and ignored it. She sighed and pressed her chin into the quilt, staring ahead into the fire. She did not look as though she had slept well, either, by which he was not particularly surprised. Anzu, he had learned, was stubborn yet knew her limits and when to be cautious. Because of her new settings, she was choosing to be cautious and having trouble adjusting. Malik knew, simply by how she spoke and acted, that she was wondering why she was being preserved rather than killed. It was only a matter of time until either Seto told her or she realized it on her own.

“I’ve been having...strange dreams lately,” Anzu abruptly told him. “Well...Bittersweet, I guess, more than anything.”

“Ah,” he sighed, understanding immediately. “About Yami.” He might not ever have loved another woman, but he knew the human mind very well, not to mention the female mind. Her nod confirmed his assumption. “What a nice way to live. Bound to someone that you love. Sounds boring if you ask me.”

“I do love him...and I miss him. It wasn’t at all boring with him. I don’t care what you or Bakura or anyone think about him,” she added passionately, her eyes sharpening, “but he’s always confided in me and trusted me like nobody else but my brother and father have. My mother never did and none of my friends did. You can’t possibly imagine what it’s like being completely different than everyone else, being the misfit in your entire kingdom, and having nothing to give to your people. Everyone who has met me wants someone delicate like my mother. I’m not delicate. Yami treats me like I am while making me feel like I’m needed.”

Malik felt a rising, bubbling anger that he had to push down before he could truly rationalize with himself. The girl was clearly frightened and lonely. When women became like that – or any person, really – they became selfish and that was the truth of it. She was focusing entirely on herself without giving any thought to how much of misfits the three sorcerers in that cottage were. Malik considered lashing out on her, informing her just how wrong she was, how he had always been different than the rest of the Hoshäi people. He had never told anyone why he left Hoshäi, though, and did not intend to start with this pampered girl to whom he had no connections, friendship or otherwise.

“Do you love him or do you love how he makes you feel?” He asked instead. She turned her wide eyes to him, seeming to not understand the distinction. “There are people that you love, that you want to cherish and hold to you forever and could never part with, but then there are the people who are not special at all. They treat you special, different than everyone else, and make it so that you trick yourself into believing that you love them rather than the feeling they give you. Why do you miss him? Do you miss his company or him making you feel like you’re needed?”

She clearly had not been expecting to find any wisdom on love in the Forest of Dim - from a dark sorcerer, no less. Malik stifled a bitter smile. He doubted anyone would believe him if he said he was capable of love. He had loved his older brother dearly, more than anyone in the world. He had loved his sister, but she held him back, caused him to abandon his brother, and he felt nothing but hate for her. It was hating her that was the first step to his loathing all women and their ways. Anzu reminded him too much of Isis, with her conviction in what she felt was right and her intelligence in things she felt were dangerous.

But he did not hate Anzu, strangely enough, even though reason suggested he ought to hate her. Instead, he felt nothing. He was completely neutral, even more so than Seto. The life of one princess meant nothing to Malik. He had seen too many lives be annihilated in his short lifetime, most of which by his own hands.

While Anzu mulled over his words, Malik stared broodingly in the fire, rubbing his hands beneath the quilt. No amount of soap would help him. At least some soap could chip away at the blood on Bakura’s hands.

Malik knew he was not so lucky.

X

As soon as Bakura entered the cottage, a delectable smell greeted his nose. Intrigued, he gave a cautious sniff and kicked the door closed, seeing that it was Malik cooking while Anzu sat and chopped up lettuce and vegetables for a salad. No matter how many times he saw the princess in such domestic, common settings, it still unnerved him. She slowed in cutting a radish, meeting his gaze mildly. He still had not slept and if he involved himself in any kind of argument with her, he would lose his temper and as he was supposed to be getting her to trust him, that would be the last thing to do. His original plan was not the best, either, but he rather preferred it over Malik’s. He wasn’t interested in becoming distracted by lust. That was one thing all three sorcerers had in common, at least. “I’ll put the fireplace in before breakfast,” he told Anzu when she said nothing but stared at him.

“I don’t – ” she began to say and then stopped herself, a slightly puzzled expression on her face. His eyes narrowed, his arms full of plants and bottles of things he had collected in the forest. He waited a moment longer for her to finish her sentence, something that she never did, choosing to mutter, “Breakfast will be done soon.”

“Yes, it will,” Malik confirmed, turning from the wood stove. “Seto hasn’t come down even once yet. If you’re going upstairs, would you get his ass down here, seeing as how he’s content to sleep in today? I don’t care if he usually is awake by now. He’s been acting like some kind of lethargic drunk lately.” Anzu paused in her cutting, turning slightly in surprise at the description. Bakura merely raised an eyebrow and then met Anzu’s gaze as she turned to look at him. Her mouth pursed and her gaze snapped downward. He stifled a smirk. She was already breaking under his feigned kindness.

“I’ll do that,” Bakura said at last, adding as he moved through the den, “But you’re forgetting Seto has always acted like a lethargic drunk.” He heard Anzu say something to Malik, likely a disagreement on Seto’s character, but ignored her and moved to his chambers, setting the herbs and bottles on his desk. He shed his cloak and dressed in more comfortable clothing before leaving the room and moving upstairs. He knocked on Seto’s door and opened it without waiting for a response. He had expected the sorcerer to be sitting at his desk, rather than in bed. Bakura’s frown deepened when he saw Seto glaring at him from his bed, his arm tossed over his eyes to shield from the light that spilled through the glass of the window.

“Get the hell out of my room,” Seto snapped peevishly.

“Well, someone is having one of their times of the month,” Bakura sarcastically commented. For a moment, Seto just stared at him and then his expression blackened to one that seemed fairly murderous. Bakura wondered if he might be able to persuade Seto into attempting to kill him if he continued in this manner.

“Get out!” This time he threw the blankets away, rising to his feet threateningly. Bakura calmly backed out of the room, seeing that Seto was clearly not in the mood for his taunts.

“I didn’t come up to deal with you, anyway,” he said snobbishly. “Malik wants to know what you’re doing up here and to get your ass down there if you want food.” Seto made a violent slashing motion with his arm and the door slammed in Bakura’s face. He tilted his head, scowling at the door. He would have to do something about his attitude, as well. It seemed the princess was rubbing off on him. Hopefully by the time Seto’s temper rose to its full potential, Anzu would be calmed and dancing in the palm of his hand. It would be a bit problematic if he had them both raging against him. He doubted Malik would assist him if he were put in such a position. If anything, the Hoshäi native would be laughing throughout it all.

Dismissing Seto from mind, Bakura continued down the hall to the room that Anzu was sleeping in, stepping in and crossing his arms over his chest, surveying the room. It was smaller than most, with very little space for a fireplace. He could certainly enlarge the room, but he couldn’t have any occupants on the floor and as much as he disliked Seto, he didn’t want to kill the man. He tapped his fingers on his arms and then stepped further into the room, dropping his arms to his sides as he looked around again. Although not traditional, he could most certainly put a fireplace in the corner rather than flat upon a wall. The hearth would be smaller, yet deeper. Unbothered by that small fact, he decided upon the corner near the door and raised a hand and drew an image of what he wanted the fireplace to look like before drawing symbols in the air with his other hand, holding them there in the air until the walls began to distort. Only then did he allow his hands to drop and he folded his arms again, watching the process to ensure that nothing was out of place. A few minutes later, there was a lovely, brick hearth in lieu of the corner. Satisfied, Bakura left the room and returned downstairs.

In the kitchen, Seto was sitting at the table with Anzu, looking as petulant as he had earlier. Bakura rolled his eyes at his mood and then helped Malik take things to the table. He noticed that his companion appeared wearier than usual. Unlike Seto, Malik seemed to be accustomed to losing sleep and was as cheerful as always. After setting the food on the table, they sat down and after a gesture from Malik, the four of them ate silently.

Halfway through the meal, Anzu cleared her throat uncomfortably and addressed Seto, “Is there anything wrong? It’s like you’re in a bad mood.” Her smile was uncertain when he turned his eyes towards her, pausing in his eating. Bakura watched the interaction interestedly while Malik continued to eat. He was unreasonably irritated with Seto, something he attributed to his lack of sleep. Naturally, he thought, she latches onto Seto after he takes care of her foot. I knew something went on in the room when Malik left.

“No,” Seto replied at last, turning back to his food. “I had trouble sleeping.”

“Oh...It seems like everyone did,” she said. Malik glanced up at her sharply, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Let’s see...” She held out her hand and ticked off her fingers with her fork. “Bakura hasn’t slept yet, Malik and I woke up early, and you’re sleep was restless.” She dropped her hands, a puzzled frown crossing her lips. “Is that too coincidental or is it just me?”

“Glad to see you’re acting more like a princess and less like the annoying brat you have been,” Bakura drawled. She scowled at him, a subtle warning that she was not in the mood for his insults. As it was, Bakura did not care for how she was warming up to Seto. He would prefer her to do that with Malik, who Bakura at least knew was loyal to him. Seto was more conniving than Bakura and would use her amiability for his own designs. Such designs would surely bring ruin to Bakura if he knew the sorcerer as well as he did. “Allow me to remind you that you are not a princess here, but a mere woman who needs to be treated as only that. No matter what your upbringing may be, you are only a brainless female of no consequence.”

“And yet you keep me alive!” Anzu snapped.

“I’m sure one of us will find a use for you soon,” he said, smiling unpleasantly, his eyes sliding to Malik suggestively. She glared at him fiercely and then whipped her head around to turn her eyes to Malik, who simply stared back at them innocently, his fork in his mouth. He smirked, sliding the fork out slowly. Anzu’s eyes turned into her saucers and her eyes dropped down to Malik’s chest for some reason. Her face burned red and Malik laughed. Bakura, however, was confused as to what exactly that was about. “In any case,” Bakura continued as though nothing had happened, “it is none of your business why I keep you alive. Just know that neither Seto nor Malik care what happens to you. If you want to remain alive to see your beloved fiancé, I suggest you try and get in good graces with me.” He flicked a look to his plate and found that he no longer had an appetite for the remainder of his food. “But you did make a nice salad, so perhaps you’re worth something after all.” He stood up and took his plate, cup, and utensils to the sink. “I have things to do. I don’t want to be disturbed today.”

“He’s in a bad mood,” Malik told his companions with a grin after Bakura had exited the room.

Obviously, Anzu thought. “I’m done myself.” Malik waved a hand as she stood up to return it to the sink.

“I’ll get it. I don’t have much to do today, anyway.” She smiled and nodded and returned upstairs to her room. She had asked Malik to heat her some water so that she take a bath after breakfast. Stripping off her clothes, she stepped behind the screen and slipped into the warm water. It was not as hot as it had been when it was first heated, though that did not bother her much. She sat in the water for a long while, her legs drawn up to her chest as she rested her cheek upon her knees.

Why does he have to be so horrible to me? She wondered. Is it just because I’m Yami’s fiancée? Anzu’s brows knitted together as she recalled how Bakura had said ‘fiancé’ with such contempt. But he had been speaking of Yami and her feelings for him. None of them really like him, which I can’t understand. Malik did offer me advice, though, and I don’t know why, but I felt that he knew what he was talking about. What he said has only confused me about my feelings. I don’t know if it’s Yami I love or how he treats me and makes me feel. For all our life, we’ve only known each other. That’s how long we’ve been betrothed. What should I do? I still miss him dearly and want to return to him. I just wish I understood my emotions better than I do. Anzu sighed, closing her eyes and relaxing in the water for a moment before beginning to wash. The water was cold by the time she was done. She dried, dressed, and then drained the marble tub.

After drying and then brushing her hair with a comb she found in the armoire, she limped downstairs and put the loose shoes on that Seto had found her. She had no intention of escaping, instead settling on a pile of logs near one of the sheds, leaning her elbows on her thighs and staring out at the forest thoughtfully. She looked to the house and saw that she could see inside the kitchen through the window. Turning back to look at the forest, she released a small sigh of boredom. While her foot was healing, there was very little that Seto or Malik would allow her to do. It was strange, because she would have thought, as exiled sorcerers whom were involved in the Dark Arts, they would care nothing for how she treated herself or what she did. She was increasingly seeing that what she was told about such sorcerers was incorrect.

“It isn’t wise to be unaware of someone behind you,” a cool, neutral voice said behind her. Jumping in alarm, she turned to look at Seto. He simply gazed back at her, unapologetic. “Bakura is up to something.”

“Do you think...?” she began hesitantly. He shook his head as she trailed off.

“No, Bakura is not so clever. Malik, perhaps, but he would have said something to Bakura if he guessed correctly. Bakura has his suspicions, I assume. Whatever he is working on in his chambers is occupying him enough that is paying me no mind.” Anzu gave a weak nod, worried in spite of herself. Seto’s calculated answer calmed her nerves. She was becoming to like his blunt way of speaking to her. It reminded her of Yami. She experienced a pang of guilt, hastily assuring her an instant later that she did love Yami, that it was not his manner of speaking to her that she enjoyed. At least, not entirely.

“Have you ever been in love, Seto?” she queried, turning to look at him. She saw his jaw tighten. “How do you ever know that you truly are in love?” Anzu was not stupid, although she was sure Seto would have preferred her to be such. He was good at remaining completely blank and emotionless. If she had not been watching, she would never have seen the subtle clench of his teeth. He had been in love and something had happened. She was uninterested in his past at the moment. She did not think it was her business, having known him for only a short amount of time.

“You don’t think about it,” he said after a pause. “There is no question of whether you love a person, you simply do. You might struggle with it, deny it, but you never ask yourself if you do love a person. You just know.” Anzu stared at him, willing him to look at her. He did, yet she could not see anything but his usual expression. “Should I once again ask you whether you love Yami?”

“No...I do,” she firmly said, her eyes drawing to the side as she bit her lip. “I do,” she repeated, more to convince herself than him. “I have to love him. He’s the only person I have that has treated me so well. How can I not love him?” She dwelled again upon the questions Malik had posed to her that morning: “Do you love him or do you love how he makes you feel? Why do you miss him? Do you miss his company or him making you feel like you’re needed?”

“Simply because you are betrothed,” Seto calmly told her, “does not mean that you must love that person. Yami loves you, but you are still trying to figure that out. I suggest you come to some kind of conclusion before I return you to Kraion, Anzu. If you do not love him...” He stopped a moment, appearing to debate with himself whether to finish his sentence or not. He continued cautiously, “...then I would find another man who you love.”

“All the good advice I’ve gotten about love has been from people who are supposed to be heartless,” Anzu quietly said. “Even my best friend did not want to accept that I might not love Yami. What does that say about society?”

“What does that say about the people you choose as friends?” he countered. She looked at him and then turned away to stare at the trees again. She knew, without having to look, that throughout the time she sat there, he stood beside her. She smiled sadly. He seemed to realize that she was in turmoil both mentally and physically. She wished there was something that the sorcerers would let her do. As though he knew how restless she was, he said, “I’m going to prepare a brew for you to help the healing process. Neither Malik nor Bakura will care what you do. Come with me and I’ll teach you some of what I know.”

“The Dark Arts?” Anzu warily asked him, moving to her feet and following him to the shed that she had purposely avoided being near.

“No,” he answered, sounding slightly amused, “just magic.”

X

Malik stood at the counter, drying a plate and watching as the door to the shed swung shut. It was strange enough that Seto had been the one to approach Anzu when she was out there. Even stranger was that he would take her with him into the work shed where they brewed most of their potions. Malik generally spent most of his time there, as his potions were far more potent. But, as with his magic, his healing potions and anything that helped, rather than hindered, never came out right. Seto was the only one who could make those potions. So, it did not surprise Malik that Seto was in that shed. It was Anzu’s presence with the sorcerer that caused his suspicion. What is he thinking? he wondered. -He finished drying the plate and then set it in the cupboard, tossing the towel on the counter and moving through the den, down the hall, and to Bakura’s chambers. He had asked not to be disturbed, but somehow he felt that this would be something Bakura would want to know.

He knocked on the door and waited patiently until the door swung open and Bakura glowered at him. “Yes, I did hear you when you said you wanted to be left alone, but a problem has come up.” Bakura’s glare turned murderous and he admitted Malik inside. Seto was not aware of this, but Bakura had his own quarters behind his bedchambers for his own brews. The smell of herbs and the tingling sense of magic drew Malik’s interest. He knew better than to ask Bakura about his private doings, as his friend had never inquired into his own business. It seemed only fair that he reciprocate that respect. “I think Seto is going to charm the girl far before you ever do.” Bakura blinked, astonished at how the conversation had begun. “He was with her outside and just now took her into the shed where we brew our potions. I’m not sure if he’s looking to get her in bed or simply being nice. There’s something definitely going on underneath our noses. I don’t really care myself – she’s not a part of any of my plans – but you might want to do something about this, Bakura. She already trusts Seto. I have yet to discover why or what the hell he did that was so special.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Bakura grumbled, frowning as he pushed his unwounded hand through his dirty blonde hair. “She trusts you almost as much as she does Seto. The only one she hates is me and that’s because as soon as a person goes into Kraion, they come out a day later with my life story. Everyone is taught to hate and fear me. You and Seto are completely unknown to her, especially you.” He fell silent for a few moments, deliberating over something. “Yes, this is a problem...Seto doesn’t seem the type to try and get a woman to warm his bed. She could be his particular flavor, though, in which case...”

“We’re going to have a whole other round of problems,” Malik finished grimly. “What should we do, then? I could probably hold him off, keep them from getting together privately. That usually never works and only makes a girl want what she’s being denied worse.”

“Agreed,” Bakura said, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Do this instead. Watch them, see how they progress. Seto might not be engaging in an affair with her at all and has other plans that we’re unaware of. If that’s the case, then we’ll know by you watching them. Try and listen to them, if you can. I’ll deal with whatever arises. I have tricks up my sleeve, some of which even a woman that despises me will fall for.”

“Are you sure they’re in your sleeve or are they in your pants?” Malik asked with a smirk.

“Well, some of them might be.”

Malik laughed. “I have yet to witness any of your superior seducing techniques. I almost hope that Seto does slip up so I can see what you’re so cocky about.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bakura assured him, “I can be quite impressive.”

X

Yami looked up as Jounouchi exploded into the dining room. He was poking at his lunch half-heartedly. His father had chosen to take his lunch in his chambers that day. Yami suspected he was in one of his stranger moods. Instead, he had Otogi, his future brother-in-law sitting at the table with him. He almost stabbed himself with the fork when his friend flung the doors open so violently. He grabbed the fork and found that Shizuka was running after her brother. She turned a pleading gaze to Yami and then he knew that Jounouchi, with his usual hot-headedness, was about to say something rather rude to either him or Otogi. By the fire in his eyes, Yami was inclined to believe that it would be towards Otogi. He shifted nervously and opened his mouth to say something, but Jounouchi knew exactly what he was doing and spit out, “He’s nothing more than a whore in the disguise of a noble!” and thrust his finger towards Otogi. Yami closed his mouth and slowly turned his head to stare at Otogi. The prince’s stare was bored as he looked at the finger that was being pointed at him. “He’s been trying to seduce my sister!”

“Jounouchi!” Shizuka gasped in horror.

“Well – ” Yami began diplomatically.

“He’s been asking her to go to his room instead of the random list of servants that serve him,” Jounouchi continued passionately, apparently very willing to sacrifice his own good position to ensure that his sister’s virtue remain in tact. Shizuka, however, was growing red in the face from embarrassment, her eyes wide as she held her hands to her mouth. “Why the hell does he want her to serve him? Why can’t he just take whatever servant that comes? He’s revolting! His sister’s missing and he’s trying to lift some servant’s skirt!”

“That’s rather rude,” Otogi pleasantly responded. “Calling your sister ‘some servant.’ And you say that I am revolting?” Jounouchi gawked at him in disbelief. “Besides that, you are mistaken in the belief that I would do anything while Anzu is missing. It would be a more interesting pursuit for after I have found her. After all, I would hate to feel guilty about being with her friend and taking advantage of the poor girl.” Jounouchi’s face filled with rage whilst Shizuka covered hers, shaking her head. Yami stood in the midst of all of this, looking a bit lost and unable to control the situation. “Please obtain some sensibility, can’t you?” Otogi sighed, his mouth turning into an irritable scowl. “I’m not such an asshole to go after someone’s sister just for a good time in bed, especially if Anzu is good friends with her. Since you insist on being meddlesome, I have been asking for her so that I might have someone to talk with and whose company I can actually enjoy. Imagine that. A man can actually talk to a woman without having his hand between her legs while doing it.”

“Could we please refrain on the vulgar language?” Yami said desperately, seeing that both men had forgotten Shizuka was in the room. Knowing the girl, she had likely never heard people speaking with the type of innuendo that Jounouchi and Otogi were content in doing. “There is a lady in the room.” Otogi glanced at him and inclined his head respectfully. Yami sighed and put a palm to his forehead. He knew that Jounouchi’s concern was genuine; he never would have spoken to a prince of another kingdom in that way if not. Nonetheless, he wanted to remain selfish and worry only about his fiancée. He wished that sunset would come earlier, yet it seemed like the day was dragging on forever. When he raised his head, he started in surprise to see his sister standing in the doorway, looking wan and unhealthy. He hadn’t been aware of how the dining room had gone so silent until then. Beside him, Otogi was tense. Holding a hand out, he murmured, “Steady,” and then raised his voice so that he could be heard by Mai, “Is there something you needed, sister?”

“Yes,” she replied and moved down the length of the table to stand beside him. Jounouchi and Shizuka stepped back, as was necessary. She barely looked at them before saying to him, “I need something from you.”

“What is that?” he queried politely, inwardly suspicious. Up close, she looked even more ill than she had further away. There was still a beauty about her that most women could not obtain, but the effects of her earlier sickness still lingered. She seemed so frail that it made him think if he put his hand around her wrist that it would snap in his hands. The thought unnerved him. Mai had always been so proud and stood with dignity and strength. Seeing her in this state disgusted him a bit.

“I would like to be moved out of the palace, to the royal suite in the gardens.” He blinked.

“But...that suite hasn’t been used in ages! It’s probably falling apart from neglect.”

“I have checked already,” she told him wearily, “and the furnishings and building are in fine condition. I am not asking much, Yami, and seeing as how father does not answer when I call on him, I have to ask you.” Her tone had cooled considerably, the area around her eyes tightening when she spoke about their father. Yami did not disagree with her claims, considering over it for a moment. He could not outright demand that she tell him why it was that she wanted to move there and by what royal law dictated, he had no reason to deny her the request. He willingly deceived himself by thinking she might want some other place to rest with the palace in chaos over Anzu’s disappearance. He had a feeling she was getting sick of hearing about his missing fiancée, more than anything. He doubted she could do anymore harm. If she wanted to kill him or Otogi, it would be better for her to be in the palace.

“Of course,” Yami carefully responded. “No, it’s not much of a request at all. No one is using the suite, so I see no reason why you cannot take residence there. I’ll send some servants there to tend to it.”

“I would prefer to be alone, but thank you for the offer.” She turned then, leaving the dining room. While watching her, Yami could not help but be suspicious of her intentions. It seemed that she wanted to be somewhere where no one would see what she was doing. He could not think of why, though, when Anzu was lost in the Forest of Dim and he and Otogi were here in the palace. She could cast some sort of sorcery on the palace, he supposed, to get rid of them, but he did not think that likely.

“She is too beautiful of a woman,” Otogi said in a dark voice.

“It is a good way of hiding things,” Yami vaguely replied, poking at his food again. “Shizuka, Jounouchi, please sit. Help yourself to lunch.” They settled on his other side, across from Otogi, without hesitation and filled plates with food. Yami had often invited them to dine with him when his father was not present. Naten was more traditional in the way that he viewed those below him, just as Mai was. Yami was less like this and he had heard that his mother had been kind to those of the lower classes, as well. She had never been friends with them, though. Yami was glad for his friends, who were not nearly as deceptive in their intentions towards him as those of the nobility were.

“She wants to do something in that suite,” Otogi said as Jounouchi and Shizuka ate. Jounouchi was still sending him evil looks, all of which he ignored. “Should you have given it up to her?”

Yami said nothing.

X

Anzu sat quietly in the chair at the far end of the work table, something in which Seto was grateful. He had once had an apprentice who never shut up, always asking questions – inane ones, at that – and wanted to make conversation of all things! Anzu had asked very few questions thus far and never drew her eyes from his hands except for when he asked her to hand him something. If he did not know better, he might have assumed that Anzu had some magic in her blood. However, as he well knew, she did not. Magic was not common in Siruean, so he was unsurprised that the princess did not have any, let alone any of those in her family. Besides that, he could not sense any in her and both Malik and Bakura had validated that fact.

“Here is your brew,” Seto said in the silence of the work shed, taking a deep, metal spoon and pouring the steaming liquid from the cauldron and into a cup. She took it from him carefully and then blinked when she realized it was not hot. Seto turned from her to pour the brew into other containers for later. He had only made enough for the following three days. The brew was potent enough that her wound would be healed by the end of the third day. Seto expected to have her out of the Forest of Dim by the night of that day. If all his plans went as they ought to, there would be no complications. He might have some problems the next morning, but he could handle Malik and Bakura easily enough. “It will help the healing process be quicker so that we can leave the Forest of Dim to Kraion in three days’ time.” He glanced over his shoulder to see her drink the last of her brew and set it on the work table. He took the cup to wash it in the basin in the corner and returned to stand in front of her, a hand braced on the counter.

“And Bakura and Malik won’t know anything?”

“No, I don’t expect they will. To be safe, I want you – ” The shed’s door snapped open, startling them both. Malik was in the doorway and his eyes moved interestedly from Seto to Anzu and back to the sorcerer, his eyebrows slowly rising. “Malik...Did you need to use the shed?”

“Only if you are finished in here,” he chirped in response, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “I suppose you would want some privacy other than the house, wouldn’t you?” Seto’s jaw tightened, aggravated, as he stared blackly at the blonde settled comfortably in the doorway. Anzu gave a blank look, completely oblivious as to what he was speaking about. Her eyes slid to Seto, who pointedly ignored her. He was running through all the things that he could do to Malik and then all the spells he could cast on him to keep him quiet until he wished for him to speak. The very last thing he needed was Malik running to Bakura, telling him that he was engaging in trysts with the princess in the work shed. But then, Seto could not be sure that Bakura did not already suspect him of that. He knew that his position had not looked entirely innocent, either, which would only complicate matters.

“No,” he bit out, “we don’t need privacy for anything.” Malik’s eyebrows rose in amusement, a subtle hint that he did not believe it for one moment.

“In any case, I have some things I need to make if you two are quite done. Bakura is absorbed in what he is doing in his chambers and if I know him, he’ll be a stubborn enough ass and not sleep. He seems intent on keeping himself busy, so I need to make him a regenerative brew.”

“A regenerative brew?” Anzu spoke up. Both males glanced at her. “Er...should I not ask?”

“No, that’s fine,” Malik replied after a thoughtful pause. “Simply surprised by your interest.” His eyes narrowed slightly and then he shrugged carelessly. “Most regenerative brews – or at least the basic ones – are made to avoid weariness, but I never learned any basic magic, as you might imagine. Those in Hoshäi learn the best of everything. The Dark Arts are not made up entirely of evil things and there are many brews and spells that can help a person. The Dark Arts are also the most advanced of all magic. As Hoshäi is ruled by these Arts, all the spells are advanced. The regenerative brew I’ll be making was originally used for those lost without food, water, or any other necessities.”

“So...Bakura wouldn’t even have to eat and he would be fine?”

“Correct. He’s rarely ever focused so intently on something as he is now, but when he gets this way, he hates being disturbed and even more does he hate having to interrupt himself to nourish his body. This brew will at least save him time and he won’t need to cook anything and simply drink the brew. He won’t lose any body mass whatsoever and be completely healthy.” He smirked in a rather conceited manner. “I suppose you were not aware that the Dark Arts could do such things.”

“No,” she admitted, “but it makes sense that it has both the offensive and defensive aspect. As they say, a good offense is a good defense.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Seto frostily stated, having stood there listening to them for the past few minutes. He picked up the containers for Anzu’s brew and indicated for her to take the remaining one. “Make your brew then. I have better things to do than be educated on your kingdom’s views of the Dark Arts.” Malik chuckled and pushed away from the doorframe and stepped aside to allow them to pass. Seto ushered Anzu to go first and once she was a few feet from the shed, Seto paused in front of Malik and glared down at him. “Don’t make assumptions, Ishtar. I’m not in the mood to deal with any piss fit of Bakura’s.”

“Bakura doesn’t give a shit who does what with her,” Malik said, raising a shoulder in a shrug. “Frankly, neither do I. You just don’t seem the passionate type.” His eyes slid past Seto to Anzu, who was waiting for Seto, her brow wrinkled in concern, seeing that their interaction was not a friendly one. “But she’s Yami’s girl. Neither of us have had enough personal interaction with him to understand his actions, to really gauge his next move. That is something that Bakura is the better expert. It’s the only reason why he’s daring enough to keep Yami’s fiancée here, why he’s keeping her dancing on her toes. If you’re doing anything with her, then you need to be careful because if Yami ever finds out – ”

“I’m not,” Seto interrupted curtly. “And, even if I were, it would be none of your business if you or Bakura don’t care about what she does so long as she stays here.”

“No, but we will have to deal with the repercussions. Bakura is eventually going to let Yami find us. When he does, if he realizes that Anzu has been warming his bed, he’ll freak. Any man would. That could cause problems that none of us want. Personally, I don’t envy Yami for having a girl like Anzu. She’s more trouble than a woman is worth.”

“That, too, is a matter of opinion,” Seto calmly answered. “Some women are worth a lifetime’s worth of trouble.” Malik’s expression darkened slightly and then he quickly regained a blank mask. Seto eyed him suspiciously for a moment and then turned to meet Anzu, saying, “Good luck with the brew.”

“What did he say?” Anzu asked once they were inside the kitchen and had set the containers on the table. Seto shook his head silently and moved to the sink to wash his hands just as Bakura strolled lazily into the kitchen, his mouth taut. For a moment, Seto wondered if he and Malik had some sort of telepathic exchange. However, he soon realized it was pain that caused the expression on Bakura’s face. There was the slightest bit of sweat on his forehead and he was clutching his right wrist. Anzu, too, had noticed and there was the slightest bit of concern on her face. She stepped towards Bakura and then stopped herself, clenching her hands at her sides. Bakura glanced at her from beneath his fringe of hair and chuckled.

“This is nothing you can help me with, princess. Go find yourself something productive to do. I need to talk with Seto privately.” She frowned, but willingly left, casting a look to his blackened hand. “Damned, nosy woman,” he muttered and then collapsed in a chair, releasing a sigh. “I let this go for longer than I had been expecting. A protective spell around a djinn,” he elaborated as Seto leaned over to inspect his hand. “Do you have anything on hand to take care of it with?”

“...I might, but it’s in the shed and Malik is in there,” Seto answered, brushing Bakura’s left hand away, pushing the sleeve of his shirt from the wrist. “It’s spreading upward too rapidly for my liking. It’s past the wrist. If we don’t get it taken care of now, you might be one less an arm.”

“Fuck Malik then. I’m not going to let my arm fall off.” He stumbled to his feet and hit the table. The clank of glass drew his attention. With his good hand, he picked up one of the containers and moved it from side to side, the brew sloshing around inside. “What’s this?”

“A healing brew for her foot,” he shortly said. “We don’t have time to make conversation, Bakura, especially if I don’t have a potion pre-made.” The latter sorcerer set the container back on the table in silent agreement and followed Seto outside to the work shed. Without knocking, they burst in to see that Malik had only just begun on his own potion, cutting up a plant on the counter. His feathery brows knitted together in mild confusion. Seto ignored him, shoving past to the shelves in the back of the shed, groping through them before finding the desired brew. He popped the lid off and took a metal rod from a wooden box with gold clasps, stirring the brew. The dull, gray liquid shifted with the rotations of the rod, turning into a brilliant orange, emitting a lively glow. “It’s still good. Soak your hand in this.” He thrust the container towards Bakura. After he had taken it, he cleaned the rod and replaced it.

“I don’t suppose anyone is going to tell me exactly how that happened?” Malik asked, having remained respectfully silent throughout their intrusion.

“A protective spell.”

“Hmm...On what?”

“A djinn.”

“But...” Malik trailed off, seeming to understand that it would not be too likely that he would receive any straightforward answers from either man. Bakura had shoved his sleeve up to his elbow and had half his forearm and hand submerged in the liquid.

“Keep that in there for ten minutes,” Seto ordered Bakura, “and don’t take it out even once. It will eat away at the dead flesh and will be tender for the rest of the week since you’ll be missing a few layers of skin. I wouldn’t suggest getting involved in the other world until you are prepared to take the necessary precautions against your person, Bakura.”

“Your advice has been heard, Seto,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Thank you, but I am aware of my blunder. I hardly need you to inform of something that I already know.” He clasped the glass container more securely against his chest and glanced at Malik, who was drinking in their conversation without a word. Satisfied, he turned and left the shed without so much as a sincere ‘thank you’ for Seto’s help. Malik shook his head and returned to cutting his plant. Seto stifled an irritated sigh and also left the shed, shutting the door behind him to give Malik his privacy. Sometimes he wondered why he even saved that buffoon’s life if all he was going to do was recklessly throw it away time and time again. He supposed it was the sliver of loyal honour that he had retained after his unbearably long life.

X

Isis could feel the eyes of the people of Kraion pointed towards her. In the capital city of Kraion where the castle was located, there were only the best of people who lived here. They had the most money and the majority of them were in the king’s court. Isis Ishtar felt nothing but disgust for them. In her home of Hoshäi, there was no such thing as a person above another. The wealth was distributed equally because opportunities were distributed equally and everyone knew the same things as all others. Although there were some more skilled than others in the Dark Arts, they were not sneered upon. Instead, they were seen as prey. Those that were weak in Hoshäi did not survive to suffer. Here, the poor suffered from inequality.

Leading her Appaloosa up the hill to the castle gates, Isis allowed her gaze to roam from the curious and hostile stares of the Kraion peoples’ to move along the gray walls of the castle. They extended beyond her eyesight and the massive castle seemed to loom over the capital city. It was almost as though the structure was a subtle warning to those below. It was yet another aspect of this kingdom that she did not like. It was no wonder Kraion and Siruean were not nearly as famous in her kingdom as Hoshäi was in theirs.

The men at the gate stepped threateningly towards her as she approached the gates. She stifled a derisive snort at their failed attempt at intimidating her. She knew that she looked foreign to these men with her wispy off-white outfit. She kept her shawl around her head, but pulled down the part that was covering her mouth and narrowed her eyes at them. In turn, their grip on their swords tightened. This was not any way in which she liked to be greeted. She raised a hand and the men froze, their faces distorting into terror. “I would suggest, gentlemen,” she told them in her low voice, “that you greet a guest of your prince’s more politely.” She breezed past them, only their eyes being able to move to watch her. Past the gates, the castle grounds were virtually empty with only a few soldiers and servants mingling in the open, green landscape. She stared around her for a moment and then moved further into the grounds before releasing her spell from the men at the gate. After she did, she heard them hurrying to follow, shouting at other soldiers.

Before they could try to lay her down, a blonde male darted out and started swearing at all the soldiers, threatening beheadings and other less friendly things to certain parts of their anatomy. The men paled and scurried away, with only the sentries hesitating, glancing from her to the blonde. The male in question glared mutinously, causing them both to hurry backwards, stumbling over their feet. Isis could not help but smile at the entire scene. It was all too comical. “Sorry about that,” the blonde huffed with a grim twist of his mouth. Isis surveyed his face and concluded that this must be the captain. Despite his display of anger, his face hinted at a gentle personality, perhaps even a man with a warm heart. In Hoshäi, he would be considered weak. But here, she could appreciate such a man. She appreciated Shadii despite his tenderness towards her, something people would look down upon if they knew that side of him. “I’m Jounouchi,” he introduced with a lopsided smile. “Yami – er – the prince told me to look out for you. You’ll be Isis Ishtar, I guess? Man, we’re sure glad to have you here. Guess no one else was willing to come? Well, I don’t blame them. Those idiots don’t know how to treat a lady right!” He beamed at her and ushered her forward, towards the castle. “I’ll have my sister take care of your horse. She’s good with animals.”

As he said that, two others came to join them. One was a man that walked with a natural swagger. At first she thought that he might be the prince of Kraion. However, his expression did not imply that he was, nor did the hum of magic he was emitting. She suspected this was Otogi, the sorcerer the prince had spoken of when convening with her. The girl beside him had no magic, but held the same welcoming expression that Jounouchi did. “Hello,” she greeted Isis in a sweet voice. “My name is Shizuka. I’ll take your horse to the stables and get it settled in if you don’t mind.” Isis shook her head and handed the reins to the girl. Her horse did not become fussy as he generally would when a stranger touched him. “Does it have a name?”

“His name is Maelstrom,” Isis answered with a dry tilt of her mouth. “Not a name I chose for him.”

“Ah! Well, he’s beautiful,” Shizuka said, running her hand over his nose. She guided Maelstrom away, waving at Otogi, who smiled in return. Isis watched as Jounouchi’s expression turned dark with irritation. The sorcerer ignored him.

“Alright, we’ll take you to Yami,” Jounouchi gruffly told her, shooting daggers towards Otogi. Isis inclined her head politely, pulling her shawl back up to her mouth to hide her smile. Otogi walked beside her, a step behind as was respectful, while Jounouchi led the way into the castle. She memorized the path they took and how many turns there were in order to get to their destination. They went up stairs and down corridors until they arrived at a door. Jounouchi knocked and then pushed it open, stepping inside to gesture Isis in. She walked cautiously, something that was in her nature, and Otogi soon followed. The two men remained behind her, something she was uncomfortable with. In her experience, baring one’s back to another person was not acceptable. She shifted her position so that her back was facing the wall and she could keep them in her eyesight. Only then did she look at the prince of Kraion.

He was not quite what she was expecting. Based on his voice, she had expected someone large with harsh features and a constantly glowering expression. Instead, he was slender with a face that was kind, yet impossibly sad. There was clear weariness in his eyes and seemed to weigh his body down. The loss of his fiancée was more troublesome to him than she had originally thought. He truly did miss her and seemed to love her just as dearly as he had implied. He rose to his feet from his seat and offered a smile that was surprisingly genuine. “Welcome to Kraion, my lady,” he greeted, holding out his hand, palm up. She glanced at it and then placed it on his. He bowed over it and then, with her hand still in his, directed her to a seat across from him. Otogi took a seat beside Yami while Jounouchi stood beside him. “Thank you for coming, even if you were unable to bring others.”

“Nobody else was willing,” Isis replied, removing her shawl altogether. Otogi’s eyes moved from her face to her hair without either lust or interest. There was a hard look of disbelief in his eyes. She could see that he did not trust her. “I will be honest with you, something that is rare among my people. My reasons for helping you are not entirely selfless.”

“Oh, but of course,” came the sorcerer’s caustic remark. Yami held up a hand to silence him without shifting his gaze from her. The latter cast him a dirty look, but said nothing more.

“Three years ago, my little brother left Hoshäi and abandoned me and his people. Our family has been known to have excellent skills in the Dark Arts. My brother, Malik, was one of the best in the more violent side of the Dark Arts. He can do no defensive skills, not even create a potion that would help a person. He can only make things for bad. He killed without reservation in Hoshäi. Normally, we do not care who dies or who kills, but...he went too far, I suppose. Our eldest brother, Marik, was just like this and was brutally murdered by our own people. I held Malik back and he has never forgiven me. He ran off shortly after our brother’s death.” She paused, noticing that Yami suddenly held a shuttered expression. Otogi said nothing, staring across at her, lacking expression. “I have heard rumors to the effect that Malik is in this region. When you said there were sorcerers in the Forest of Dim, I had hoped that one might be Malik. It’s been too long for me to identify his magic, but if he is in there, I need to see him.”

“And what of my sister?” Otogi demanded angrily. “Thank you for sharing your sob story of a life, my lady, but you’re not the only one who has had sibling problems. Yami’s sister is a lunatic! She’s probably after his life.” Isis blinked, turning her gaze to the prince. He did not deny it, but neither did he acknowledge it.

“If Anzu is not in the Forest of Dim as we think,” Yami spoke, “then she is dead. I will not rest until I find her, dead or alive. I can’t stop thinking that she is being tortured by that damn Bakura in the forest. If that is how her life is right now, then I would rather have her dead.” He sighed, closing his eyes briefly. “I must find her, Isis. I love her, just as you love your brother if not in the same way. Not only that, I must consider the political aspect to this problem. Otogi has already told me that the people of Siruean are pointing the finger at me and my father. Our diplomatic situation with Siruean could be torn apart. There is too much at stake here...”

So she is the princess of Siruean...Then Otogi must be the prince. “I understand,” Isis calmly replied. “She is my first priority.” She hesitated. “This man, Bakura...He is involved in the Dark Arts?”

“Yes,” Yami replied, frowning. “What are you thinking?”

“Malik is not stupid. He will be an asset to Bakura and having an ally will be beneficial to Malik. Where we find Malik, we will find Bakura and therefore find your fiancée.”

“But that means that two damned sorcerers will have put my sister in danger!” Otogi exploded, leaping to his feet in outright panic.

“No...She is in no danger from Malik,” Isis musingly said. “He began to hate women because of me.”

“And as for her virtue, I do not think that Anzu is danger with Bakura,” Yami reassured Otogi. “For as long as I knew Bakura, he was never with a woman. It was almost as though he was too preoccupied to bother himself with it. As for her being alive or unharmed, that is what I worry about most.” He returned his attention to Isis. “How long do you think it will take you to come up with a plan, Isis?”

“I expect we will be able to venture into the Forest of Dim very soon. I do not suggest you enter with us, though, my lord. Only the prince of Siruean and I shall go - for obvious reasons. One who is without magic will only hold us back.” Yami nodded, but it was clear that he did not like to stay while they put themselves in danger for him. “We are capable of it, I assure you.”

“Man!” Jounouchi suddenly spoke up in the silence that fell. “A bunch of bloodthirsty men ready to beat a woman and I can’t even do anything with them!”

Yami chuckled, shaking his head. Isis smiled.

Sometimes laughter was needed even in the grimmest situation.

X

DIS: Congratulations to Sakura Takanouchi, I will be contacting you shortly. As for my silent readers, thank you for reading and thank you for putting my story on your favorites/alerts, but if I don’t hear from you this chapter, this story is going on a permanent hiatus until you get it into your heads that I don’t appreciate such rudeness from people.

With that said, a few questions: How do you think I’m doing building on the relationship between Anzu and the sorcerers? Is it fairly realistic in her type of situation? Do you think I should lay off the drama and add some humor to lighten it up and do you think it would work without rushing the relationships? Am I doing alright with Anzu, Bakura, Malik, Seto, and Yami’s characters? How about the minor characters, Shizuka, Isis, Otogi, Jounouchi, and Mai?

Please leave a review on your way out, maybe answer some of the questions I’ve posed? I really want to know how I’m doing, people. Ciao!