Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Distance ❯ Pact ( Chapter 5 )

I'm not sure if I said this, but chapter three of this fic has been edited with an extension that might be quite important (well, actually, it is important). So if you haven't read it yet, I suggest that you do because it includes quite an important plot device.

Thank you all once again for your generous reviews! They are what keep me up until two in the morning typing these things up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, unfortunately for myself but fortunately for the parents and non-fangirls, because otherwise Yami and Seto would be dueling in a　completely different sense in that show. This chapter contains graphic violence, blood, and gruesome scenes of suicide. Proceed with caution.

Chapter 5-Pact

One blue eye peeped open as sun shone into the small room through a window that was dug into the wall. Soon, the twin of that beautiful blue eye opened as well, and the owner allowed them to blink, focusing them. Seth sat up on his bed, his body bucking slightly from the pain that tore through his back when he made a motion, the wounds threatening to reopen. Hissing, Seth looked around and realized that his bed was covered in dried blood, and his tunic was in shreds, hanging only by some threads and on his belt. Panic went through him as he wondered if people would come in here and start questioning him about what happened that got this whole mess here in the first place, and he quickly yanked off the sheets off his bed. He tore off the rest of his tunic, pulled on another one, and headed for the kiln that the artisans kept burning for their pottery.

Just as he shoved his stained sheets into the kiln, Yami walked up to him. "Seth!" he shouted, running up to his friend. "What are you doing?" Taking a step back, Seth turned and looked at Yami, trying as hard as he could to keep his expression passive and cheerful, like the way he usually was in front of Yami. He shook his head as an answer and averted the question all by itself. "Nothing much," he said, "What are you doing here?" A sheepish snicker escaped Yami's lips and he kicked the sand beneath his feet, sweeping them into small clouds. "I had to get a new urn to replace the one that I broke last week from hiding in," Yami explained, his big toe digging into the sand as he drew swirls into the sand with his foot. Seth smiled lightly, knowing how Yami had a habit of hiding from Shimon for classes he didn't like such as arithmetic, and his favorite hiding spots were in the huge vases or urns that littered just about every corner of the palace. Those urns, however, were like Hell for Seth, for he had attempted to hide himself in them once, or rather, Yami had lifted and stuffed him into one, and he was quite stuck. It wasn't until Yami finally realized that Seth's kicking and screaming wasn't a joke that he went and got Ishisu to help him out. At the sound of urns now, Seth just seemed to cringe and wrinkle his nose, and that's exactly the face that he was giving Yami at the moment.

The prince laughed and tugged at Seth's hand, not knowing that he was tugging at the inflicted arm that had been dislocated by his own uncle the night before. "Hey, I've got something I want to show you!" he shouted with excitement. Seth bit back a whimper from the pain that shot up his arm to the shoulder at even the slightest of tugs and forced a smile to his paling lips. "What is it?" he asked, letting his hand slip out of Yami's. The hand that had been holding his own reached into the pouch tied around the young prince's belt and he pulled out a sheet of papyrus that had an elegant drawing etched onto it. Holding it out, Yami presented the card to Seth, who studied the picture on the card. The drawing was of a creature not very much unlike a human, but clad from head to toe in purple armor. The creature wielded a mage's staff, and his eyes sparkled with such a light it made him seem almost life-like. Seth breathed in awe at the splendor of the card and glanced up at Yami. "What is he?" he asked, forgetting the pain that had coursed through his body a few moments ago.

"He's the Dark Magician!" Yami announced proudly. "Father bestowed him onto me last night saying that I've already progressed enough to be able to succeed his place in the Shadow Games. I went into the Shadow Realm just last night for the very first time." A look of pride mixed with a hint of smugness crossed the prince's youthful features and he grinned triumphantly. Yet a tinge of sadness glowed behind his red eyes, for he knew what this succession was foreshadowing. For him to succeed his father's place in the Shadow Games, it would mean that his father's time was almost up. The Nile wasn't flooding, and the people were calling upon the Pharaoh to do something about it, and the something was for the Pharaoh to sacrifice his own life for the sake of the kingdom. It was believed that the ka of the Pharaoh would placate the gods more than any animal's flesh and blood. Noticing the hint of wistfulness in Yami's expression, Seth smiled sadly and handed the card back to him, but he still didn't understand too well.

"What is the Shadow Realm?" he asked, looking embarrassed at his own ignorance.

"It's another realm…" Yami tried explaining, "That's surrounded in shadows…and basically monsters and stuff thrive in there." It was difficult to explain the Shadow Realm, really. Attempting to describe the Shadow Realm to a person who's never been there was almost like trying to allow a deaf man to understand the beauties of a symphony. If only Yami could take Seth to the Shadow Realm to show him around…but that was simply out of the question. As much as Seth's magical affinity exceeded that of most sorcerers in training at the palace, he still had absolutely no training in the magic of the Shadow Games. To bring a normal mortal into Shadow Realm without any magical support of its kind was like throwing a just-born infant into the crocodile-infested waters of the west end of the Nile-and that was if one was lucky. Just as Yami was shaking that prospect from his head, Seth spoke up. "Can I go there?" he asked, excitement lighting his blue eyes. Taken back, Yami's mouth fell agape and he stared at Seth. "Out of the question!" he shouted to Seth, waving his hands in front of Seth's face. "You'll be killed in an instant! You need to have magical training in the Shadow Games before you can even step into that place!" He turned his head away from Seth, knowing that the boy would always give him a "look" if he were to ask for something. The "look" wasn't puppy eyes, far from it, it was more like some sort of look that said "Are you sure you don't want to do that for me?" repeatedly. But Yami had adverted his eyes all too late and found himself being stared down by that look until he finally caved in.

"All right, fine!" Yami shouted, throwing his arms into the air. "I'll take you there, but only in my room, because Ptolemy seems to be onto us. Also, if I see that you are not suited for that place, I'm going take us right back, understood?" Beaming, Seth smiled triumphantly and nodded, his excitement apparent on his face. He walked past Yami quickly and headed for the palace, unable to contain his anticipation to go into this so-called "Shadow Realm." Yami sighed and followed him, eventually catching up and slapping Seth on the back, smiling. "Never seen you this excited since-" his words stopped mid-sentence as Seth's knees buckled beneath the frail form and the pale boy knelt onto the ground, hands clutched at shaking shoulders. Yami lifted his hand from the trembling back and stared at the specks of red that littered the palm of his hand and the beige tunic that Seth wore.

"Seth, what happened?!" he shouted, crouching down next to his friend.

"Nothing!" Seth shouted nervously, then, ashamed at his outburst, bit his lip. "Nothing…" he repeated, rubbing his own back, feeling the faintly reopened wound with the tips of his fingers.

"What do you mean, `nothing?'" Yami exclaimed, reaching his hand out to the wound but retracting his hand when he saw Seth cowering from his touch. "You're bleeding! And you've got a cut on your neck, too!"

"It's nothing, really!" Seth said, urging his legs to allow him to stand up in what seemed to be a really energetic way. He shot himself up from the ground and gave a bit of a bounce to his stance. "I just fell while moving to the scribe's quarters last night!" He feigned a smile and dusted himself off, then pulled Yami up and dusted him off as well.

"But…"

"Come on, I really want to see the Shadow Realm!" he protested, ending the conversation. A soft hand reached out and gripped Yami's as he urged the Prince to go inside the palace, into the privacy of his royal chambers.

Once the two of them were inside the privacy of Yami's luxurious room, the Prince quickly closed the heavy gilded doors behind him, locking and bolting them three times. Seth had only been in this room two or three times before the authorities (adults) had forbade him to come in, saying that a slave, no matter how close to the Prince, had to know his place. For a slave, the room of the Prince was off-limits, sometimes even when he was invited. The room was indeed one fitted for a prince; instead of a dusty mud floor, the ground was covered in the finest of marble and decorated with exotic animal skins as to not chill Yami's feet in the morning. The walls were decorated with lapis and gold, each stone and precious metal molded and pounded meticulously into the walls to create a mosaic of the gods that will watch over Yami for the rest of his life. The bed was a luxuriously humongous bed, a bit too gratuitous for a child his age. The divan had white silken curtains adorning it, spilling from the banisters that hung overhead, creating the canopy. Satin pale bluish-lavender sheets covered the down mattresses and the finest cushiony pillows piled into a modest mountain at the head of the bed. At the foot of the bed was a chaise that was big enough for the two boys to sit on, and Seth seated himself there as he waited for Yami to perform his magic.

"Now, if I start to see you gasping for breath, whether it's from excitement or whatever, I'm taking us back, okay?" Yami warned. Seth nodded his head mutely, watching the Prince spread his arms out at his sides, fingers outstretched. Muttering a spell under his breath, a band of golden light spread around Yami's feet and it appeared that he was suddenly sucked into a wind tunnel, his tunic and cape billowing upwards as though a small breeze carried it. Suddenly, Seth felt the same breeze wash over him from under his feet, and he gasped when the morning sun disappeared along with the room, and a kaleidoscope of maroon, purple, red, and black swirled around him in an enveloping sensation. The air was thick and heavy, but Seth felt safe suddenly, and he stood up from his seat, peering around the "Shadow Realm." Yami took a moment to regain his composure; traveling into the Shadow Realm always made him a bit tipsy. He smiled at how successfully he had managed to carry both Seth and himself into the realm and approached Seth.

"How is it?" he asked, his keen eyes watching Seth to make sure the other boy wasn't being crushed by the intense magic field and the suffocating density of the air. To say the truth, Yami himself had a hard time staying in the Shadow Realm for too long; but that was understandable since he had just started his training recently.

"It feels like home," Seth whispered, his arms spread out about him.

"Home?" Yami repeated the last word as a question, perplexed. "You mean you lived in the Shadow Realm before?" Seth smiled and turned to face Yami, his eyes shimmering from nostalgia as well as a hint of homesickness. "Not exactly," he explained, "Back in my homeland, my people lived by a structure we call the Stonehenge, which is basically large stones arranged in such a way that it must have opened some sort of gate to a world like this and affected our village…which is probably why we were persecuted." He lowered his head as he added the last note. His hands wrung at his tunic as he thought about it; it seemed that his people were able to communicate with the creatures of this sort of realm, then why was it that they were powerless against those horrible hunters? As he thought about it, old hatred burned inside him like an old wound that was just pried open, and he felt his back burning. Gasping, he leaned his head against Yami's shoulder, his one hand gripping Yami's arm.

"Seth?" Yami shouted, concerned. "What's wrong?" Seth seemed to be inflicted with pain, and Yami was just considering the option of taking them back to the human realm when light burst from Seth's back. Fingers of excruciating pain pried and ripped at the wounds on Seth's back as a pale white light burst from them as well as from the cut on his throat. Staggering back, Seth let out a scream not from pain but very much similar to a newborn infant's holler for air upon reaching the world. He fell to his knees and Yami ran to his side, stopping when he saw the sight before him.

Three tiny dragons, seemingly born from the light of those wounds, crowded around Seth's form. One that was larger than the other two snarled at Yami, protective of Seth. Another one, slightly smaller in size but delicate like the boy who summoned it, perched on Seth's shoulder where it sprung from, nuzzled the boy's cheek comfortingly despite the fact that it had tusks that would most likely hurt Seth. The third and smallest one squeaked at Seth, crouching by Seth's hand. All three of them were covered in metallic white scales and their eyes were the same color as their summoner's-a soul-tearing blue. Seth huffed for breath, not yet noticing the dragons, and he wondered what was up with the sudden sound of snarling and squeaking, plus the strangely comforting yet somewhat painful nuzzling at his cheek. Lifting his head, Seth caught the look of shock and awe drawn on Yami's face and he furrowed his brows. "What's wrong, Yami?" he asked.

One dark finger lifted and pointed at Seth's shoulders and his hand. Seth's eyes followed the general direction of Yami's protruding finger and saw the creatures on his shoulders and by his hand. Letting out a surprised yelp, Seth jumped up, barely knocking the smallest dragon over with his flailing hand and sending the other two on his shoulders into flight. "W-what are they?" Seth exclaimed, retreating to Yami's side and noting that those three dragons followed him.

"D-dragons," Yami stammered. But these weren't like any dragons he'd ever seen before in the scrolls, plus these dragons were giving off the unmistakable elemental aura of light, which he had never felt from any dragons before. The creatures were beautiful, yes, but just as perplexing in the same steed.

"I know they're dragons," Seth whispered, looking at the largest one that was flying in front of his face, looking for the entire world like it was reprimanding him. "But why are they following me?"

"Maybe it's because you're a foreigner in this realm," Yami answered nervously. "I say we go back." Without even waiting for Seth's agreement, Yami muttered the returning spell under his breath and sighed in relief when he felt the morning sun against his skin. Upon opening his eyes, however, he let out a huge holler when he saw that the dragons had followed them back and were perched on Seth's shoulders once again, the smallest one on top of the brown head. The small one, offended, squeaked at Yami.

The sound of Yami's scream must have carried through the hallways of the palace, for the Pharaoh came pounding on the door of the Prince's room. After several pounds, the voice of Ptolemy was heard and a spark of light came in between the doors through the small crack, breaking the locks open and the two adults stormed in. The Pharaoh's face was drawn with concern for his son and Ptolemy looked like he was expecting a gruesome murder scene.

"Yami, what ha-WHAT IS THAT?" the Pharaoh started to ask if his son was hurt, but stopped when he saw the three white dragons on Seth.

"What is this slave doing in the royal chambers?!" was Ptolemy's question. The Pharaoh rolled his eyes and lifted his hand, silently ordering the High Priest to shut his mouth. He then approached Yami and looked down at his young son. "Yami," he said. Vermillion eyes would not look at the Pharaoh's face and the Pharaoh reached a large hand out and turned Yami's face around. "Look at me," he said, voice stern. "Did you take Seth to the Shadow Realm?"

"It's not Yami's fault, Your Highness," Seth interrupted, "It was-" His mouth shut in a snap when he saw the Pharaoh turn around and give him a "look." It wasn't one that was malicious in any way, but it was the type that told him to be quiet when he is questioning his son. Yami nodded mutely, his foot swirling on the marble floors of his room as he wished that his chambers had an urn for him to hide in. The Pharaoh nodded and stood up, walking over to Seth and pinched the boy's one cheek, letting out a sound laugh. Both boys as well as Ptolemy stared at the ruler in surprise as the Pharaoh lifted Seth up, spun him in a half circle before setting him down next to Yami.

"I always knew you had potential!" the Pharaoh exclaimed, hardly able to contain his exhilaration. "I had Shimon research about your clan for me, and it seems that when their clan members reach a certain age, the ka of their deceased ancestors or relatives will form into a creature suitable for the child to summon." The Pharaoh shook his head, looking at the three tiny dragons appraisingly. The largest of the three dragons raised its head proudly as the other two seemed to smile, the smallest one squeaking again. Ptolemy's face was torn between an expression of disgust and absolute horror. "I never thought that you would have the ability to do that," the Pharaoh continued, "Seeing as how you had absolutely no training in magic like this in any way whatsoever." With the last sentence, he turned his head slightly and gave Ptolemy a dirty look that sent the High Priest backing away. Yami nudged Seth's shoulder and smiled, bringing Seth out of his state of shock.

Seth started, the contact of Yami's shoulder on his arm pulling him out of his stupor. He looked at the three dragons around him, trying to make the information about his clan that not even he knew click inside his mind. "So…" he pointed at the largest dragon, "Father?" When the dragon nodded approvingly, Seth then gestured to the delicate one that was second in size. "Mother?" The female dragon nodded as well, making a cooing sound that sent warmth through Seth's heart when he stopped at the smallest one. "And…Mokuba…?" The tiny dragon that was in the embodiment of Seth's brother squeaked in enthusiasm. A soft gasp escaped Seth's lips and he looked up at the Pharaoh, who smiled and crouched down in front of Seth, his eyes becoming serious when he looked into Seth's blue eyes.

"Seth," the Pharaoh stated, "How would you like to be Yami's High Priest when you become of age? You can start training whenever you'd like, and you can go on the pilgrimage whenever you'd like. When you return, the place will be yours to fill. It's a good thing that you're already under Ptolemy's apprenticeship, you can learn from him." Seth took a step back and nearly crashed into the chaise at the end of Yami's bed. As he did so, he caught the look on Ptolemy's face and he blanched. "N-no," Seth stammered, his hand clutching his tunic, "I can't, Your Highness. I'm not fit for the job!"

Ptolemy stepped up next to the Pharaoh, looking down at his brother. "Exactly, Sire," the sneering voice protested. "A slave like him cannot possibly become powerful enough or responsible enough to become High Priest! Besides, I thought we had agreed that my son Akhenaton would be the one filling the place as High Priest when the Prince succeeds you!" The Pharaoh shot up from his crouching position and glared at Ptolemy square in the face, almost snarling in anger that he had kept swallowed for the past two years. "Ptolemy," he ground out, "For the past two years I've made some quite poor decisions thanks to your constant screeching. For your information, if you haven't noticed it yet yourself, your son Akhenaton has been training for almost three or four years in the magic of the Shadow Games, and he can't even summon a Kuriboh!" He huffed, snorting a breath of anger in Ptolemy's face before whirling around on his heels to head out of Yami's room. "Come now," he ordered Ptolemy, "We have more important matters to attend to. Besides, Ptolemy, nepotism alone cannot rule a country."

"Y-yes sir," Ptolemy agreed half-heartedly as he followed the Pharaoh out of the doors, walking so quickly out he doors he did not have a chance to give Seth a dirty look. As soon as they left, Yami grabbed Seth's shoulders and gave out a squeal of excitement.

"You're going to be my High Priest!" he shouted. "That would be so wonderful! I was hoping that I didn't have to have Akhenaton as my High Priest. Like my father said, he's completely incompetent to do the job." He beamed at Seth as the paler boy's lower lip trembled with anxiety at what Ptolemy might do to him in the night, but Yami was all too excited to notice the look of rear on his friend's face, and the two of them were both too preoccupied with their thoughts to have noticed that the smallest of the three dragons had slipped out of the room.

Ptolemy, having been given the afternoon off to prepare lessons for his former-scribe now magical apprentice, was now pacing around his room, gnawing at his thumb. His bodyguard Nehkt stood at the edge of his door, watching as his master paced around in anger. "What is the matter, Sire?" Nehkt asked, his brows furrowing.

"That little demon is going to become High Priest, you fool!" Ptolemy screeched, throwing his arms up into the air. "Do you know what that means?! It would mean that both you and my son would be out of jobs when that abnormal brat prince becomes Pharaoh!" Nehkt took a step back in surprise and bowed in apology for his ignorance, then an idea sparked into his head. "Why don't I go and murder him tonight?" he suggested, "No one would really notice that he's dead until the next morning, and you will have a perfectly good alibi for you are going to be attending a rain-inducing ritual." Ptolemy gave this a thought; he had once just wanted the boy out of his way so that he wouldn't bother him, but now that he's crossed the line of just how bothersome he could be, it would be very troublesome with him alive. Nodding in agreement, he waved his hand in acceptance. "Very well," Ptolemy said approvingly. "Go into his chambers tonight when I give you the signal at the ritual and kill him. Make sure you make it painful for him, but not so loud that it will draw attention." Just as Nehkt bowed to that mission, Ptolemy's eye caught a flicker of silver-white by his doorway and he saw that it was the smallest dragon that belonged to the "boy-demon." Snarling, he gestured towards it. "Capture it! If it flies back to its master and tells of this, both our heads will be rolling at the execution grounds!" he shouted. Nehkt immediately sprang to his feet and grabbed at the small dragon that was just about to take flight and escape, capturing it in his large hands. The dragon snarled and bit into Nehkt's hand, sending a scream frothing out from the large, muscular bodyguard's mouth as he dropped the small creature onto the ground. Dazed, the tiny dragon gave out a small whimper as it tried to escape, only to have its tail stepped on by Ptolemy's unmerciful foot.

"You fool! Can't even catch a dragon," Ptolemy upbraided. He then turned his attention towards the tiny dragon that squirmed under his foot. Muttering a sleeping spell under his breath, Ptolemy shot the spell at the dragon and watched until the large blue eyes fell closed and then bent down to pick up the slumbering creature.

"Do with this as a warning sign to the boy," Ptolemy said, malice dripping from his voice. "Make sure he sees it and revels in the fear that it's supposed to send him." Nehkt bowed and took the small creature in his uninflected hand and walked out of the High Priest's royal chambers.

***

"Mokuba?" Seth called, lifting the curtains to his room and peering inside. He had been inside Yami's room the whole day, talking to the Prince about what they were going to do when one of them becomes Pharaoh and the other becomes High Priest. His anxiety had dissipated during the chatting, but then he had also neglected to notice that the dragon embodiment of his brother was gone. After the Prince's servants came in and informed Seth it was suppertime at the scribe's quarters, Seth returned here, searching for his third dragon all along the way. His mother and father had returned into his body during his chat with Yami, seeing that there was really no point in being a fifth wheel in their conversation. At first Seth had thought that Mokuba had done the same, but when he couldn't feel the presence of his brother's ka inside his body, he got a bit worried. His heart sank when he saw that the dragon was not inside his room, but then his eyes caught something that wasn't there before.

Set on Seth's table inside his room was a small clay pot that was perched on a portable coal hearth that was made to match the clay pot. The smell of something cooking permeated the room as steam bubbled from the clay pot, the coals burning brightly underneath it inside the hearth, keeping the food inside warm. Seth furrowed his brows; dinner wasn't served inside individual rooms, scribes in this housing quarter had to go to a public cafeteria to eat their meals. Curious, Seth approached the pot, his heart thumping in anticipation that felt to him like a nauseating feeling as his hand reached out for the lid of the pot. Upon opening it, Seth's eyes shot wide open and he shut the lid to the pot just as quickly when he saw the sight in it, knocking the pot over onto the mud ground where it spilled over in a soup of what used to be one of his precious dragons. The coals, wetted from the water of the soup, immediately hissed and distinguished, but were still hot. Seth ignored the heat of the coals and the soup as he grabbed for the remains of the small dragon, pulling them into his lap.

"Mokuba…Mokuba…" he sobbed, feeling a wave of nausea pulse through him. His back hunched over and he vomited onto the ground, the smell of the cooked flesh disgusting and retching him. He clutched the dragon to him and felt streams of tears wash his cheeks, running into his mouth to mix with the horrible taste of bile. "Why? Who did this to you?"

"We did," a voice said behind him. "Though it really wouldn't do you much good if you knew that since you're going to die very soon." Nehkt stepped through Seth's bedroom door, looming over the small boy that knelt on the ground, covered in tears and the broth that was cooked from the dragon.

"Why?!" Seth shouted, turning his head upwards to look at the man, his eyes full of hatred. "Why do you do this to me?!"

"Why?" Nehkt asked, his hand making a swooshing sound as it ripped through the air, backhanding Seth across the cheek. The blow alone sent Seth tumbling onto the bed where he had been stabbed just the night before. "I'll tell you why! They say that before you hit a dog you have to first look at their master's stature. Do YOU have stature? You're nothing but a lowly slave that always gets in the way, you little demon!" He approached Seth and straddled the boy at the waist, his knees pressing Seth's wrists down and his hand placing a suffocating grip on the delicate neck, pushing upwards so that the chin was tilted and Seth couldn't scream, only open and close his mouth as he gasped for breath.

"Please…don't…why…"Seth begged, his eyes growing hazy. He was at a loss; he had no idea how to summon his dragons, and to say the truth, he didn't want to in fear of what this man might do to them at this stage of the game. He wiggled one hand out and scratched uselessly at Nehkt's hand, straining to keep the man from strangling him.

"Because you're a demon," Nehkt's cold voice answered. It was then that Seth heard the sound of a dagger being drawn from the burly man's belt and he realized that this most likely wasn't going to be like what he had to put up with last night; he was going to be killed. "I expect your blood to be blue, just like your demonic eyes…" He raised his dagger, letting it gleam in the light of the moon, flashing in front of Seth's eyes, spelling his doom before he lunged down at Seth.

"NO!!" the boy screamed, using his one free hand to pull his own dagger out and plunge it into Nehkt's throat as the man lunged downward to stab him. The man let out a gurgling sound as blood overflowed from his lips and dribbled down his chin, his hand releasing Seth's throat. Giving out another primal yell of pure hatred, Seth pulled the dagger leftwards with both his hands, sending a deep cut across the man's throat. Nehkt clutched at his throat, his hands covering the wound in a pathetic attempt to close the wound and keep the blood from flowing by just putting his hands there on the wound. His breathing became nothing but wheezing sounds and another gurgle escaped the drowning voice before the large man fell onto the floor at the foot of the bed and Seth sat up, finally realizing what he's done.

"What have I done…?" Seth whispered, staring at the blood that covered his hands, his body, his bed, and his face. His blue eyes seemed to glow under the hot redness, and those eyes traveled to Nehkt's body, where the man was still twitching and kicking on the dirt floor. Hatred bubbled from his heart again and Seth screamed, going over and giving one last stab at the man's heart, and Nehkt let out a final cough of blood, spraying it over Seth's face, and then he died, his eyes rolling upwards in his sockets but not closing. Panting, Seth fell back onto his mattress, legs sprawled over the blood, the thick blood of his victim covering him, drying in thick layers. His eyes narrowed as his face scrunched in anger and he shouted at Nehkt's dead body. "Why do you do this to me!?" he screamed, dropping his dagger. "WHY?" After his outburst, the gravity of his murder finally settled in along with the second death of his brother, and he hunched over, sobbing.

"Why do you do this to me?" he whispered. Then, he remembered a law that he had read and recited before; the law of the land as well as humans as a whole: "For one life you take, you must give your own." His lips trembled as he recalled that doctrine, and his eyes trailed to his bloodied dagger, and he picked it up. "I'm sorry, Yami," he whispered, poising the dagger's blade over his wrist, "I won't be able to be your High Priest…" With that, he drew a sharp line across his pale skin, watching in awe as red dotted the line he drew, and then his blood flowed out from the cut, bubbling and seeping out from the cut he made.

"I expect your blood to be blue…just like your demonic eyes…"

"My blood is red," Seth whispered, his throat drying from the panic inside his stomach as he watched his life flow from his wrist. "It's red…just like yours…" A small pink tongue slipped out from those pale lips and trailed up the arm to the wound, where it poked at the puckering wound, tasting the blood. "And it's salty…just like yours…why do you do this to me…?" He drew back and then lied down onto his stained bed, lapping at his blood, trying to stop it from flowing; it was making him feel sick. "Why…?" He whispered that question for one last time before his mind slipped into a thick darkness.

The next thing Seth felt wasn't what he was expecting. He had expected to feel hands of the undertaker grab at him, or maybe even Anubis himself dragging him to be judged, but instead he felt a silky hand clutch his own. Long, slender fingers intertwined with his smaller fingers, and Seth fought to look up at who was there. Blue eyes opened to meet with golden orbs and an intoxicating smile. A figure with blurred features floated over him, its forked tail swishing in the air.

"Such beautiful blood…" a velvety voice whispered into Seth's ear. But instead of a hot breath that one would usually feel when someone was whispering into his ear, Seth felt chills course through his body from that voice. The smile grew wider and Seth could swear he saw fangs in the mouth of that creature. "All right, the pact is made…what is it that you wish for?"

"Who are you?" Seth whimpered, narrowing his clouded eyes in an attempt to see the creature better.

"I am the one whom you are named after," the creature said, its golden eyes shimmering proudly as though talking to a son. "I am Nyaralathotep, or what your people would call `Set.'" He leaned down and brushed his lips against Seth's cold cheek, sending shivers through Seth's body as he felt his body get colder from the loss of blood. The God of Chaos and Destruction chuckled at the reaction he wrought from Seth. "Now, what is it that you want?" Set asked again. "Is it revenge? You have used your blood to summon me and now I shall make a pact with you."

"I…I just want…to serve Yami," Seth admitted childishly. But he wasn't going to be able to do that now, he realized. It wasn't going to do Yami any good if he were dead, and even if he didn't do this to himself, the Pharaoh or maybe even Ptolemy was going to execute him for killing Nehkt. Set scoffed lightly and shrugged. "Such a small wish, and yet so selfless," he whispered. "All right, I will grant you that wish…but you must remember…when I fulfill your wish to my liking, I will be taking your ka to serve me in your afterlife…" Blinking at the idea, Seth could only nod mutely at the sound that he may be able to stay by Yami's side a bit longer and maybe protect him from Ptolemy, god knows what that man might do to Yami if he were gone! Upon seeing the nod of agreement by Seth, Set laughed brilliantly, his laughter ringing through the room. A single finger with a razor-sharp nail trailed down Set's tongue and drew blood that was as black as the night, the same color as the creature's long hair. The ink colored fluid dripped down the pink flesh onto Seth's wound, and Set leaned down to lap at the remaining blood that continued to empty itself from Seth's lithe body. Seth gasped as he felt the darkness surge into his body with his blood, red mixed with black, staining him and yet empowering him at the same time. Skin rubbed against blood-stained clothing as the creature gripped Seth's hand, pressing it into the mattress as he continued to lick at the wound, allowing his blood to flow into the boy, marking him, stamping this contract as his own. Only when Seth finally screamed from the heat of the dark power did Set pull back, satisfied.

"You will now have my magic," Set whispered. "Your magic will become stronger by tenfold, but you can still die, so you must be weary. I will only keep you alive until your wish is granted." He sat back on the bed and watched Seth as the boy looked at the wound that sealed itself into a scar on his wrist and then at Set, then nodded.

"Go to sleep now, child named after me," Set soothed, his voice reminding Seth of the creature incubus, who stole people's dreams. But he felt so tired he had to comply…

***

Ptolemy shoved his door open angrily as he charged into his chambers. Not only did it not rain even with his incessant prayers to the gods, his slow servant Nehkt was late in coming back and delivering him good news about the "accidental death" of that annoying little boy. He waited around for a full hour after the ritual ended for his bodyguard, but seeing that he wasn't coming, Ptolemy left in a huff and retreated to his chambers, exhausted from his work. As he pulled off his priest's cloak, he noticed a lump on his bed and he growled angrily. Was it another stupid servant who thought that his bed was some public napping unit? Ptolemy stalked over to the lump and ripped the blanket off the bed, ready to shout at whoever intruded into his bed only to drop the blanket and gasp, taking a step back.

On his bed, in all of its gruesome bloody glory, was the body of Nehkt, stabbed and slashed in the throat as well as the heart. Ptolemy stared at his former servant, perplexed at how this body got here. Sure, it might have been the little demon that killed Nehkt, that was not impossible, but to be able to carry the large body back without notice was a task so hard he was sure not even the demon boy could succeed. The High Priest's thoughts, however, were intruded by the shrill scream of one of his servants who just happened to walk in to notify that his bath was drawn.

"By Ra there's a corpse in the High Priest's room!" the servant girl shouted, running into the hallways of the palace. "Murder! Murder!!"

"You idiot, don't scream!" Ptolemy shouted, running after her. She was drawing up such attention that almost everyone in this side of the palace woke up, and guards ran in from the courtyard. They came in just in time to see Ptolemy grab the girl and twist her neck so hard in an attempt to silence her that he killed her. Ptolemy was taken under the guards' custody immediately.

***

"Ptolemy, you have been accused of the murder of your own bodyguard Nehkt as well as the murder of your servant girl, how would you explain it?" the Pharaoh asked, sitting at his throne, watching his brother kneel before him in shackles.

"I keep saying," Ptolemy insisted, "That the demon boy did this! He killed Nehkt!"

"That's a lie!" Yami shouted from his father's side, earning him a glare from the Pharaoh as well Ptolemy.

"Ptolemy," the Pharaoh announced, sighing, "You should know that in our kingdom, the law is that if you murder a person, you must pay for it with your life. We have no evidence that Seth killed Nehkt, but we have witnesses who saw you kill that poor girl, and the body of Nehkt was indeed found inside your room…"

"No, Sire!" Ptolemy begged, sensing the outcome that this talk may spell. "Please! I'm innocent! I may have killed that girl, but you wouldn't execute your own brother, will you!? Amenhotep!" He bent down, his forehead touching the floor as he begged for his life.

"I'm sorry, Ptolemy," the Pharaoh said, sighing, "But all evidence points to the verdict that you murdered those two people…take him away." The guards nodded and began to drag Ptolemy away as the man screeched and cursed, his eyes filled with hatred as he shot last glances at the Pharaoh, Yami, and Seth. His son Akhenaton watched as his father was dragged out into the execution grounds and beheaded, screaming as he saw the blade come down. He snarled and walked over to Seth, giving him a glare that was almost as hard as his father's.

"Damn you, you little Belgae demon!" he shouted into Seth's unresponsive face. "I know you killed Nehkt, I know what you're up to! I'll get revenge for my father! You'll see! I'll go on that pilgrimage and become stronger than you!" With that, he turned around and summoned his servants to prepare his luggage for his pilgrimage. Sighing, Yami tugged on Seth's hand and lead them back into the palace, into Ishisu's room.

Seth watched as Yami tugged at his large purple cape, trying to adjust it so that it was comfortable around him. The palace was now a bustle with not only the execution of Ptolemy but also the fact that the days of the Pharaoh were almost due. The Nile still hasn't flooded, and the Pharaoh was now preparing to sacrifice himself, and he was preparing Yami for succession of his throne, starting with giving him the royal purple cape. The Belgae boy had become extremely quiet and unresponsive to certain things a day before the execution of Ptolemy, and Yami took it as just the fact that he was upset from the loss of his third dragon. The two boys sat down on Ishisu's bed, both of them too tired and preoccupied with their thoughts to say anything.

"Do you think it's me, Yami?" Seth asked, looking down at his feet as he pulled some loose threads from his apprentice priest's garb. It essentially looked like a beige dress without a belt or anything, it was a plain little thing, and somewhat uncomfortable since priests in training could no longer dwell in the luxuries of normal life.

Yami looked up at Seth and his eyes widened. "No!" he shouted, "Of course not! Why would I think that? I've got more important things to worry about!"

"Like the rain?" Seth asked, his tone flat.

"Yeah…" Yami whispered, his heart falling at the prospect of his kind father sacrificing himself like some goat for the sake of the people. He knew it was the right thing as ruler to do, but the idea of losing his father was still sending waves of nausea through him.

"What would you say if I were to make it rain? Make the Nile flood?" Seth inquired, looking over at Yami, his eyes sparkling for the first time in the past few days. He suddenly stood up and proceeded to walk out the door. Yami got up and chased after him. The sound of skin against stone rang through the thick, hot summer air as the dark-skinned boy chased his friend down the long flight of stairs leading to the gate of the palace.

"What do you mean you'll get the Nile to flood, Seth?" the shorter boy demanded, pulling his long purple cape around him so that he won't trip over them in his pursue of Seth.

"Exactly as I meant it by the words I said," Seth answered, his steps growing faster, daring his pursuer to catch up to him and try to stop him. He wanted to try out his newfound powers on a grander scale; he had been trying it out for the past few days and found that he was able to perform spells faster and with more accuracy, but to do something as drastic as to make it rain…he wanted to try this out. Besides, it would be helping Yami out.

"What you speak is utter madness!" protested the not-yet matured voice of Yami. "To make the Nile flood…when we've been in a draught for the past few months and the annual flooding weeks overdue!"

"Which is exactly why I'm doing this," replied the other, walking straight out of the gates of the palace despite the many warnings the Pharaoh had given him about not leaving the palace without a guard-mainly for his own safety for his sharply contrasting features of pale skin and blue eyes. Especially right now when there were some supporters of Ptolemy who believed that it was Seth who framed Ptolemy and got the former High Priest executed. Those people were thirsty for Seth's blood.

Hesitant, Yami pulled his purple cape over his quite distinguishable features and continued to follow Seth, his chase having slowed to nothing more than a following pace. "You've heard the Pharaoh, my friend," Seth continued, "If the Nile doesn't flood soon, we may have to ration food, and there's no question that many people will starve themselves trying to give the rations to their children. And your father will die. Is THAT what you want?" He whirled around, his long hems of his apprentice garb drawing up the sand beneath his feet. The other's face was covered by the large purple cape, but his movements were still perceivable. Seeing his friend give a mute answer with the shaking of his head, Seth turned back around and walked into the Nile River, pulling off his beige robe in the process. He could have done this in the privacy of the back garden that Yami was given, inside the privacy of that playground, but something inside him wanted to make it into a spectacle, he wanted to be noticed…

"What are you doing, Seth?!" the caped form shouted after him. "You do not have the magical abilities to do such complicated magic yet!"

"Watch me," Seth challenged as he placed the palms of his hands onto the surface of the water, the magical blood inside him instructing him through. He then lifted his head and his hands to the heavens and fought for a spell. When he couldn't think of one off the top of his head, he recalled a song his mother used to sing to him when it rained.

"The sky's darkly black, it's going to rain.

Grandpa took a shovel to the garden to get taro.

Dig, dig, dig…

He dug up an eel instead.

Hey~now that's really funny."

Yami stared at his friend who was singing in some foreign language, waist high and naked in the water, but as he was about to call Seth out again, he felt fresh water drops upon his face, one after another. It was raining, Yami soon realized, raising his face to the heavens as well and seeing raindrops as large as beans fall down, filling the Nile over its rim, flooding it as Seth came wading out, a satisfied smile on his face.

"You see?" Seth said over the pounding of the rain as well as the shouts and cheers of the villagers who rushed out to the river to watch the flooding. "Nothing to it." Yami couldn't suppress his laughter as he reached out and grabbed Seth, pulling him in for an embrace. No words right now could express his thanks for what Seth had done, and he could only squeeze his friend's slender form tightly as he laughed. Seth smiled as he felt the power surge inside his body.

"You can take over this kingdom with my power if you wanted to…" a voice in the back of his head whispered. "If only you'll let me…"

Seth gasped at the images the voice conjured up in his head, images of slaughter and tyranny, and he drew away from Yami's embrace. He knew he couldn't stay here any longer with his power if he had no clue how to harness it inside his weak body.

"I have to go now," Seth whispered, his words warm against Yami's ear as they stood in the rain.

"Where?" Yami asked, confused. He saw the saddened expression on Seth's face and his heart skipped a beat.

"On my pilgrimage," Seth said as he smiled wistfully, his hands on Yami's shoulders as he said this, his words part of his final farewell to Yami before he would set out.

"How long are you going? Why?" Yami demanded, wondering why Seth had suggested this just out of the blue when he had done such a big thing for the kingdom and should stay to take the credit and celebrate what great harvests this flood would bring.

"For maybe five years," Seth answered, his voice so muffled by his lowered head and the rain. "As for why…I cannot tell you…" With that, he pulled away from Yami's warmth and walked towards the palace to gather his things.

Because if I told you, you would hate me for the rest of your life…

To be continued…

Wow. This is the longest chapter of "Distance" I've ever written before. And it took me really, really long...it's about 2:15AM right now…and I shouldn't do this too often since it's really starting to give me headaches and dizziness… But this is basically the "end" to the first part of "Distance," which is the childhood arc. The next chapter will start the adult arc, where Seth returns from his pilgrimage, and then we'll really get into the plot. The middle of this chapter was taken from one chapter of "Final Distance" and edited since it's essentially the same sequence… At fist I was thinking about ending "Distance" with this chapter, but then the plot holes in "Final Distance" with their choppy memory lapses would be too confusing, so I'm keeping this fic running for another while… This chapter was inspired by a Taiwanese song I heard where the lyrics go "That day the sky was pouring/we were smiling so awkwardly."

Sorry I had to do that to Mokuba, but that's what spun Seth off…and I will explain to the number of dragons he has later on.

Thank you all once again for your reviews! Thank you for reading my fic!

Oh, and for those who were wondering about the identity of the creature in the shadows, did you expect it to be Set?