Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Good Enough ❯ Part Two ( Chapter 3 )

-Part II-

Notes: Yes, Kalim is the Spirit of the Scales; who else? And yes, I know he's not really in them. I'll explain how he gets in them later. Hopefully. As soon as I figure it out.

/What am I doing in a graveyard? I was just dueling.../ Rishid looked around. He was alone. /Perhaps I should contact Malik-sama. He'll be awake by now./ Rishid "found" the mental link in his mind and thought through it. :Malik-sama.:

Rishid sensed an awakening of sorts. :What is it, Rishid?: Malik's mental voice carried nuances of emotion that regular speech did not, and it was obvious to Rishid that he had been interrupted. Malik didn't like to be interrupted.

:There are two things that I must tell you. First, I have all the locator cards.:

:Good,: Malik purred, no longer as annoyed. :Hurry and activate them, time is running short. What else?:

:When I woke up this morning, I found that someone had left something of great value in my room. Yet, there was no sign of intrusion.:

Curiosity. :What was it?:

:It was one of the Sennen Items, the Scales.: Rishid proceeded to explain how he'd discovered them that morning.

:Sennen Items don't just appear. This must be your destiny.:

Rishid caught the sudden shift in Malik's tone. :I promise to never leave you, Malik-sama, no matter what happens.:

:Good. Rishid, you know what the Scales do, don't you?:

:In general... They are based on the Scales of Ma'at. They weigh a person's very soul, and can determine its purity. And, if the person fails their test, his very soul is devoured. It is not an Item to be used lightly.:

:Yes.... this is just what we need. If you duel the Pharaoh, you can judge him.:

:Use the Scales' power?:

:Of course! This is how we can fulfill our destiny, Rishid! The Pharaoh will not survive such a test. Use the locator cards now, so we can begin!:

Malik closed the link, and Rishid started to slip the locator cards into his Duel Disk.

* * *

Rishid was led by the locator cards to an enormous blimp, the Battle Ship. Upon boarding, he found he was the seventh qualifier; Malik-- 'Namu', that was--, the Pharaoh, and the other qualifiers had already boarded and were preparing for a feast before the dueling began. Rishid wasn't hungry, so he went to his assigned cabin and studied the surroundings. It was a sparse space, only containing a bed, a computer console, and several bland paintings. The duelists were not expected to bring any belongings to the ship, so there was no room for storage. A glance into the door that didn't lead back into the hall revealed a small washroom containing a toilet, mirror, and sink. Rishid closed the door. It was adequate.

Rishid sat on the bed-- it was quite soft and springy-- and pulled the Sennen Scales from his cloak. The pans swayed slightly with the movement, then steadied.

/Why were these brought to me? Is it as Malik-sama said, that it is destiny? Maybe it was a mistake. Why me, of all people? Is there no one better suited to aid Malik-sama?/

-No, there isn't.-

/Of course there isn't; I am the only person close to Malik-sama in the finals. I will do as he commanded and use the Scales' power on the Pharaoh. Then maybe Malik-sama will--/

:Rishid? Are you on the ship?: Malik asked Rishid.

:Yes, Malik-sama. I am in my cabin,: Rishid replied. :Is there anything you'd like me to do?

:Aside from getting me away from these... the Pharaoh's little fan club? It would be nice if you could make an appearance up here, let them know that 'Malik' is in the finals. Give them something to anticipate. Besides, you need to eat before the finals. It won't do for you to faint from hunger during your duel. They will be selecting the first two duelists in one hour.:

:Right away, Malik-sama,: Rishid replied, mentally bowing. He could force something down if Malik wanted him to.

:Good. Remember, I'm just another nameless duelist.: Rishid could imagine Malik's smirk at the pun. :And be intimidating.:

:Of course, Malik-sama.: Rishid tucked the Scales back into his robe and headed up to the party.

* * *

The spirit sighed. He'd not succeeded in gleaning much from his host's thoughts, a dilemma that was made worse by the fact that he could not hear Malik's half of their frequent mental conversations. And what did -sama mean? It was probably significant.

Right. The facts. Rishid obviously was subservient to Malik for some reason. Malik had told him to use the Scales on the Pharaoh, which wasn't a problem; Shadi had done the same thing to ensure that it really was the Pharaoh and not... um... well, the spirit didn't remember what else was in that puzzle, but the half-memory gave him a creepy feeling. The host had qualified for some sort of contest with the papyrus monsters. And he didn't think much of himself, it seemed.

The spirit had succeeded in one small thing. He had, as a test, whispered a quiet suggestion into his host's mental monologue, and the host had not noticed. In fact, he'd accepted it as a thought. It was a promising ability, but the spirit doubted he could make the man do anything against his nature, like betraying Malik. Besides, that wouldn't be right. But, if need be, he could at least make his host hesitate at a critical moment.

Okay. His host was at a party, and they were waiting for... something. Who knew what it was? That thought hadn't crossed his host's mind. He was standing near the door, leaning against the wall, watching as Malik/Namu chatted with a tall, dark-haired boy neither of them knew and another duelist, this one blond, walked away from the food table with half its contents. The blond guy looked over toward his host and started glaring, so the spirit decided that listening in to his host's thoughts might be a good idea.

/..glad he survived it, it's not his fault that the Pharaoh's been able to trick him into believing his lies.../

The blond, who was busy glaring, slammed into another duelist, nearly dropping his tray in the process. The duelist turned, and the spirit gasped.

/It's him! The guy from the tablet field!/ But... he was smiling sweetly, obviously telling the blond something. The blond paled and walked over to Malik-sam- /Oh, he's got me doing it now,/ Malik and the other duelist, and offered them some food from his tray. He'd apparently lost his appetite.

Suddenly, there was a hiss and a voice from nowhere. "Will all duelists please report to the lounge area for the first duel. I repeat, all duelists to the lounge area. Thank you." The host didn't seem too surprised, so the spirit assumed voices from nowhere were an everyday occurrence in this time. Minutes passed, but no one new entered the "lounge."

"Come on, Kaiba! What are we waiting for?" someone shouted. It was the blond guy again.

A man in a long white sleeved cape, something similar to what his host wore, stood. "Mediocre duelist. Can't you be patient?" he asked.

/I remember him. Seth. That's Seth!/ The spirit smiled. Seth-- no, Kai-bah-- would be helpful.

"Why can't we start?" the blonde asked impatiently.

The voice-from-nowhere replied, "The eighth duelist has not yet arrived."

Seth nodded. "We'll go on. Raise the platform!" The spirit watched, enthralled, as a Blue Eyes White Dragon rose from a stage. Seth stepped up to it. "This is a bingo machine. It contains eight numbered balls, each corresponding to a duelist. Before each duel, two balls will be selected. You will not know your opponent until just before your duel." Seth flipped something, and the balls started to dance. One fell into the dragon's month and came out of a chute. Seth picked it up and read it.

"The first duelist is..."

-End II-