Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Shadow Realm: Fifteen ❯ Life and Death in the Shadow Realm ( Chapter 18 )

Consider, for a moment, the concept of fate.

 

Some say that all things are intertwined, but this is not the case. The next time someone says that, ask them to connect what they had for breakfast yesterday to the death of a public figure three years ago.

 

But fate works in some very strange ways, and many things are connected in ways we could never hope to realize. For example, all of the following statements but one are truths; one of them is actually a belief, which just so happens to be true.

 

Truth: During the First Dragon War, three brothers went to battle against the Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon. The youngest of the three was known as the Dark Flare Knight.

 

Truth: All three of the brothers were killed during the final charge on the Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon.

 

Truth: The Dark Flare Knight, the youngest brother, was the last to die. He suffered a mortal wound fighting his way past a Hyozanryu.

 

Truth: At the moment of the Dark Flare Knight's death, his sheer force of will made an even more powerful monster from his remains - the mighty Mirage Knight. This new creation surged past the Hyozanryu.

 

Truth: It was the Mirage Knight who landed the final blow on the Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon, finishing the battle and ending the First Dragon War.

 

Truth: After he slew the dragon, the Mirage Knight ascended into the Higher Plane, where he concealed his true powers behind the cover of the Dark Flare Knight.

 

Belief: Those who have earned a second chance at life and who died to save others will meet the Dark Flare Knight on the Higher Plane, where he will grant them the Uprise, a rebirth into a greater form…

 

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For a moment, Fifteen was nowhere, in the company of no one.

 

And then the entire universe turned into a cloud of fog. The fog thickened, to the point where he thought it would smother him…

 

…and then the fog lifted, and his vision cleared. Only then he did realize it was better when he couldn't see.

 

At the moment, the Witty Phantom was seated in front of a tombstone. It was one of many, as the lines of graves stretched off in all directions for what seemed to be an infinite distance. The line was occasionally broken by large, square buildings - tombs, the fiend realized. The sky was gray, and the fog that had blinded him a moment ago still hung heavy on the landscape.

 

It was like waking up from one nightmare into another, as Fifteen realized where he was and how he'd gotten there. The place was the Graveyard, and the only way to get in was to die.

 

“So,” he said, whispering, “I'm dead, then. Brave Attack will do that to you, I suppose.” He set both hands on the tombstone and pulled himself upright, a few twinges of pain still present in his muscles.

As he rose up, the Witty Phantom noticed something was missing. He set one hand on his head… and to his utter annoyance, realized he was missing his hat. This irked him.

 

Suddenly, Fifteen couldn't help but laugh. I'm dead and in the Graveyard, and yet my biggest worry is that I'm missing my hat? I need to adjust my priorities! His laughter stopped, and he tucked his hands into his pockets, wandering amid the graves.

Time didn't seem to pass, and even if it had Fifteen would not have known how long he wandered through the Graveyard. The fog never seemed to thin, but he could still see other monsters, translucent and ghostly. According to legend, some monsters left the Graveyard for other afterlives, while some stayed there forever. The fiend's best guess was that the translucent ones were the ones that stayed behind.

 

After what was either an hour or ten years, the Witty Phantom found himself in front of a tomb. Curious, he tugged on the door… and found it was locked. Just as he questioned why a tomb would be locked in this place, he heard a whistling noise above his head.

 

Instinct overwhelmed self-control, and he took off running. Only after a few minutes of panic did he recall he was already dead, and thus unlikely to suffer any more damage. Once that came back to him, he stopped and turned around to see what the noise was.

 

Above the fiend's head, there floated a disturbing creature. Its face was obscured inside the hood of its robe, but what could be seen did not look pleasant. The rest of its body was hidden within that robe, except for two long, spindly arms, gripping tightly onto an age-worn scythe. Several playing cards hung on a string around its neck, and it was surrounded by similar, smaller figures in purple robes.

 

To Fifteen, it was like seeing a monster from a fairy tale come to life. He'd heard stories of the Reaper of the Cards and the Spirit Reapers - Death and its footmen. Every thought he had was screaming for him to run, but he dug in his feet and faced the Reaper with all the courage he could throw against it.

 

The Witty Phantom locked eyes with the Reaper of the Cards, and neither looked away.

 

Finally, both looked away at the same time - Fifteen to the ground, the Reaper to its companions. Once the gaze was broken, it put some space between itself and Fifteen; the Spirit Reapers followed it.

 

Looking up again, Fifteen pondered what the Reaper was up to. It had moved the scythe to one hand, and the other was raised over its head. Though the Reaper never spoke, it seemed to be chanting in silence.

 

And then the door appeared. One moment there was nothing there, and then there was a shining golden door, partially ajar. It stood between the Witty Phantom and the Reaper of the Cards, almost beckoning.

Even as Fifteen stared at the door, the Reaper and its followers flew off into the fog of the Graveyard.

 

Once again, an eternity (or perhaps ten minutes) passed as Fifteen contemplated whether or not to risk going through the door. Finally, however, curiosity and a general sense of “I'm dead, what more can happen?” combined. Taking hold of the knob, he passed through the golden door.

 

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Both of the following statements are true.

 

Truth: Witty Phantom D-15A was a fiend, and slain fiends are destined for an afterlife in Dark World.

 

Truth: Those who die in the service of the greater good are destined for an afterlife in the glories of the Higher Plane.

 

You may think there is a contradiction in these two statements. In actuality, there is not; Fate, as mortal judges do, always considers the circumstances, and by the standards of evil Witty Phantom D-15A was a poor excuse for a fiend.

A noble heart is anathema to the darkness.

 

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As soon as he passed through the door, Fifteen threw an arm up to shield his eyes. The light on the other side was almost overwhelming compared to how dim the Graveyard was, and his eyes took a moment to adjust; even though he was dead, it was still a shock to his senses.

 

With his sight restored, Fifteen looked out over where he was. It was an endless field of grass and flowers; from the looks of the terrain, he was standing on a hill. Off in the distance, he could see several buildings made out of what looked like marble. Several other hills dotted the landscape, and overhead he could see what seemed to be Tenderness and Shining Friendships flying. Now that it no longer blinded him, the light seemed almost mellow; it was as if this place were perpetually in sunrise.

 

Can it be? Fifteen asked himself silently. This place is such a paradise… and those were fairies overhead… is this the Higher Plane? And if so, what in the name of the Gods am I doing here?

 

Deciding that just standing there wouldn't answer the question, Fifteen set off down the first hill, jacket fluttering behind him as he descended. The scent of the flowers lifted whatever concerns he had, and by the time he reached the bottom of the hill he was actually smiling.

 

For another unknown length of time, Fifteen strolled amid the fields, taking all the time in the world to go wherever he was going to. Being dead had lifted a few weights off his shoulders, as the shock of death had taken away his unpleasant memories; the scent of the flowers, a breed found only in the Higher Plane, had done the rest, so that the fiend had become the typical carefree soul found in this afterlife.

After a while, however, an impulse came to life in Fifteen's mind. Not even sure what he was doing, he began to adjust his course, walking towards a destination he could not name.

 

Soon, the impulse had guided him to the base of a specific hill. “So… now what?” Fifteen asked the air around him.

 

There was no response, but logic said that if guided to a hill, one is supposed to climb it. Sighing, the Witty Phantom began to do so. To his relief, it was a fairly gentle slope.

 

At the hill's top, he came to a halt. On top of the hill was the largest Fiber Jar he had ever seen in his existence, its leaves being as large as his body. This one seemed rooted into the hill, and its very presence radiated peace.

 

Sitting under the Fiber Jar was a knight in black armor, a blazing red sword and a shield with a flame motif beside him. Both hands were behind the knight's head, and he looked up into the sky, a calm smile on his lips. After a moment, he yawned, and then Fifteen caught his eye. “Oh, hello,” he said.

 

“Are you…” Fifteen didn't know what to say. The monster before him could only be one specific being… and this one was even more mythological than the Reaper of the Cards.

 

The knight under the tree smiled, sitting up slightly. “The Dark Flare Knight, yes. And unless I miss my guess, you would be the Witty Phantom they call Fifteen.”

 

“How do you know my name?” Fifteen asked as one eyebrow rose.

 

“I know the identities of everyone who comes this way. Call it intuition.” The Dark Flare Knight suddenly knocked hard on the Fiber Jar, causing two small pink fruits to fall into his hands. He tossed one to Fifteen and took a bite out of the other.

 

Taking a bite from his own fruit, Fifteen was struck by the flavors. It was unlike anything from the Central Shadow Realm, but that was to be expected on the Higher Plane.

 

“There's another reason I know you,” the knight continued between bites of fruit. “Everyone here watched your battle with Jinzo… and I'm guessing everyone in Dark World did as well. There was a lot riding on it, after all. You just missed the celebration following its destruction.”

A question popped into Fifteen's head. “Where did Jinzo go after I destroyed it?” he asked.

 

For a moment, the Dark Flare Knight's expression turned grim. “Nowhere,” he answered. “It is gone forever, beyond all forms of revival. It was so evil that even Dark World rejected it. Nothing in the Shadow Realm or beyond will ever fear it again.” His expression shifted back to normal as he said, “But as I was saying… do you know why you're here?”

 

The fiend shook his head.

 

“You died doing a heroic deed,” the knight explained. “That alone would earn anyone a place in the Higher Plane. But to die saving the Shadow Realm from obliteration…” He shook his head in amazement. “That goes beyond simple heroism. Fifteen, you've made it to a level few ever will - you've earned the Uprise.”

 

So far, Fifteen's afterlife had felt like falling into a book of myths. He stumbled backwards, nearly falling off the top of the hill. Only a swift grab at the grass around him kept him from rolling to the bottom.

 

“That is the usual reaction, yes,” the Dark Flare Knight said.

 

On reaching the top of the hill again, Fifteen was about to catch his breath when he realized it was unnecessary. It still took a moment for him to gather his thoughts. “The Uprise is real?” he finally asked.

 

A smile crossed the knight's face as he said, “I'm proof. The first Uprise was when I became the Mirage Knight, all those years ago. When I first came here, I was entrusted with the power to grant the Uprise to worthy monsters on the occasion of their deaths. I rarely ever find monsters worthy of it.” He then looked the Witty Phantom in the eye. “You, however, deserve a second chance at life. If you want it, it's yours.”

 

“May I have some time to think?”

“All the time in the world,” the Dark Flare Knight said without a trace of irony.

 

Wandering to the edge of the hill, Fifteen looked into the sky and weighed his options. This was such a beautiful place - peaceful, quiet, free of the sadness and pain of the Central Shadow Realm, and with an aura that stripped away all of the cares and worries of life. He couldn't imagine why anyone would choose to be reborn, even in a stronger body, if the cost was leaving this place.

 

But then another set of options raised their voices. This was a wondrous place, yes… but the Central Shadow Realm had its charms. For all its ugliness and misery, it still bore excitement, the myriad joys of what a new day would bring. Life was never all that bad; each new dawn gave rise to a million opportunities, and each day begged to be lived to the fullest.

 

It was a tough choice, and so Fifteen mulled over each option on the hill's edge for some time. Every time he thought he had reached a decision, a new argument for the opposing side rose. He stood there for some time.

 

And then he realized the one factor, the most important one, which somehow he had never considered. One fist slammed into the other palm. He was such an idiot! There was only one aspect, one true reason to choose either eternity in the Higher Plane or a new life through the Uprise.

 

Turning on his heel, Fifteen looked to the Dark Flare Knight and asked, “Where is Tessia?”

 

The knight chuckled and answered, “I was waiting for you to ask. Tessia was here before you showed up. She, too, had earned a chance at the Uprise. She took it.”

 

The choice was now simple. “Then I, too, will take it,” Fifteen answered.

 

For the first time since their conversation had begun, the Dark Flare Knight stood up. He was a fair deal shorter than he'd looked sitting down. “Not surprising,” he said. “Stand before me, Fifteen.”

As he stepped into the required position, the Witty Phantom asked what was on his mind: “So, what new fiend will I come back as?”

Half-turned to retrieve his sword, the Dark Flare Knight heard Fifteen's query and began to laugh. “I'm not sure when that mistake got into the legends,” he said, picking up his sword and checking its edge on the light. “You aren't limited to your `starting' type in an Uprise, Fifteen. I can bring you back as anything.”

That was unexpected. The fiend didn't know what to say in response.

 

After a moment's silence, the Dark Flare Knight grinned. “I know what to make you,” he said. “There were three brothers in the First Dragon War. I was one, and you've met the second incarnation of another. I think it's time the third was reborn - of course, the real one is gone, but you should be a quite satisfactory replacement. Does that sound good?”

By this point, Fifteen was beyond being shocked. However, this was quite the offer, so he was still amazed. “I… I would be honored,” he finally answered.

 

Turning to Fifteen, the Dark Flare Knight raised his sword. “It is time, Fifteen,” he said in a much deeper and more powerful voice than before.

 

As the fiend watched, the Dark Flare Knight rose off the ground. His armor began to turn to gold, and he seemed to grow both taller and older. The sword transformed, becoming a scythe with a glowing golden blade. As the knight transformed, Fifteen began to feel a tug at the edge of his self.

 

Raising the scythe, the Mirage Knight called out, “Fifteen, live again!”

 

There was a tremendous flash of light. Instinctively, Fifteen threw his arms in front of himself.

Suddenly, it was as if a massive wind had caught his very essence. The true core of the fiend within Fifteen fought back, but to no avail, as everything that was Fifteen embraced the wind and the change it would bring.

 

And then the Witty Phantom D-15A ceased to be. But Fifteen did not.

 

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The following statement is a falsehood: Fate is always fair.

 

The following statement is also a falsehood: Fate is never fair, and is always cruel and remorseless.

 

The truth lies between the two falsehoods: Fate is a random force, sometimes brutal and sometimes just.

In the end, it comes down to the observer to decide if fate is cruel or fair.

 

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In the Central Shadow Realm, at the furthest point in each cardinal direction, one will find a Gravekeeper's Shrine. Each is manned by a Gravekeeper's Chieftain, and each has its own purpose. The Northern Gravekeeper's Shrine is devoted to pacifying and releasing the souls of those who have recently died, the Eastern Shrine to purification of the spirit, the Southern Shrine for remembering those who died long ago, and the Western Shrine for preparing oneself for the journey to Necrovalley.

 

Three days had passed since the Shadow Killer incident, and already the Central Shadow Realm had seemed to forget that anything had actually happened. After the riots, no long fueled by Jinzo's mental controls, died down, the army had pulled out and martial law ended. The Council was finally in control of itself again (although Mr. Volcano and Sellick weren't on speaking terms, it was for the better), and already the rebuilding of the Low-Level Zombie Habitation Quarters and the riot-damaged areas was underway. In short, everyone seemed to have forgotten or never known how close the city - and the Shadow Realm - had come to destruction.

 

Everyone, that was, except Raelvion.

 

The Dark Magician had spent the last three days in the Northern Gravekeeper's Shrine, in the room known as the Gate to Necrovalley. His hat, robe and vest were all piled into a corner, and on his bared chest and back were several large black-ink tattoos, which he'd had applied a very long time ago.

 

Given how many of those close to him had died over the ages, it seemed almost inevitable that Raelvion would join Necrovalley's Awaited (the Gravekeeper's name for their religion) at some point along the way. He was on a casual basis with all four of the Gravekeeper's Chieftains by this point.

 

After leaving Jinzo's lair, Raelvion had come to the Northern Shrine, and he was still there three days later, on his knees and chanting prayers in Necronic. Having lost four of those close to him in one swoop, it only seemed right.

 

Finally, however, the chanting stopped, and he fell forward onto his hands, panting. Only then did he realize that he hadn't eaten or drunken anything in three straight days.

 

At that point, a pair of sandal-clad feet appeared next to him. The feet's owner knelt, holding a plate of vegetables and a cup of water, both of which he set in front of the Dark Magician. The man in question wore light-colored robes, glasses, and a blue hat, and he had a thin beard on his face.

 

Looking up, Raelvion smiled at the Gravekeeper's Chieftain. “Hello, Oded,” he said, taking the water and sipping at it.

 

“I know you like to throw yourself into your prayers,” Oded answered, standing up, “but permit me to say that three straight days of them is not what I call a wise decision.”

 

Raelvion shrugged, moving off his knees and gasping as his legs cramped from the effects of being on them for three straight days. “Perhaps not,” he answered, wincing. “But I couldn't bring myself to stop.”

 

Oded shrugged. “Sometimes the spirits work that way,” he said. “Either way, one can assume your friends are at peace now.”

As he was busy eating the vegetables, Raelvion could not answer at first. After a moment, however, he sighed and looked to a carving on the wall. “I wonder if their souls have reached wherever they will go yet… or even if they're in Necrovalley…”

 

For a moment, Oded didn't answer, but he finally said, “How odd you would ask that. I consulted the spirits this morning, asking them on your belief if your friends were in Necrovalley or one of the other planes beyond this one. Their answer was strange…”

“How so?” Raelvion got up and shakily moved towards his clothes, pulling his vest back on.

 

“The spirits said that Tilde was on the road to Necrovalley and that Naomi was at peace…” Oded paused. “But they could not sense Fifteen or Tessia in the afterlife. You saw both die, but the spirits did not know of them.”

 

Midway through putting his robe back on, the Dark Magician stopped. “That makes no sense,” he muttered. “The spirits know and can sense all dead-” His eyes widened, and he grabbed his staff and hat before taking off at a run.

 

“Where are you going?” Oded called.

 

“First my home and then the Beginner's Hall!”

 

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The most common way for a monster's life to begin in the Central Shadow Realm is for them to step out of an alleyway, completely disoriented and helpless, staring at everything that passes by them. Etiquette requires that anyone who sees a monster like this direct them to the Beginner's Hall in the Council Lower Quarter.

 

The Beginner's Hall is a large, open-topped building in the Council Lower Quarter, manned by volunteer monsters (mostly Benevolent Maidens) that devote their time to educating and preparing new monsters in the ways of the Central Shadow Realm. As part of the education, new monsters are given an apartment, a job, and some general training in how the class system works.

As one might expect, it's a fairly depressing time for low-level monsters.

 

Most monsters come to the Beginner's Hall by train, but on some occasions, mostly amid the higher-level monsters, they start in the hall…

 

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The door swung open, and the warrior fell out of it, his armor making a loud clanging noise as he hit the ground. His cape swirled around him, and his helmet slid off his head, bouncing twice as it landed.

 

Rising to his feet, the warrior picked up his helmet and glanced at his reflection in the back. On seeing it, he nearly dropped the helmet.

That wasn't him… was it?

His hair was blue, and his skin was rather pale. On their own, these traits seemed normal, but something in him told him that this was not always the case.

 

He set the helmet back on his head and examined his armor. It was purple metal, with surprisingly large “flares” around the shoulders, and there was a cape attached to the collar piece; something about the shape reminded him of a robe. Under it, judging from his sleeves, he was wearing light purple silks. The armor ended at his shoulders and mid-thighs, but he wore bracers and greaves of the same metal. On his waist, he wore a sheath; on drawing out the sword within it, he found it was glowing.

 

Again, something told him he didn't always dress like this and that while he may have had a sword at times, it didn't glow.

 

The confusion was getting to him. Stumbling forward, he found a table and leaned on it, catching his breath.

 

At that point, a woman in dark robes approached the warrior, hands clasped before her. She let out a little gasp and rushed up to him, bowing her head. “Oh, I'm sorry, sir!” she said. “We didn't expect anyone to emerge today…”

 

“Where am I?” the warrior asked.

 

“The Beginner's Hall, in the Council Lower Quarters of the Central Shadow Realm,” the woman (a Benevolent Maiden, the warrior suddenly realized) answered.

 

A shock of recognition hit the warrior at that point, and he grabbed his head, collapsing into a chair next to the chair. “Now… how did I know that?” he said.

 

The question gave the Benevolent Maiden pause, but then she extended a hand to him. “Would you mind coming with me?”

 

Given little choice, the warrior took the maiden's hand, getting up slowly and following her as she walked on.

 

Shortly after that, they arrived at a table next to a small tree. Two monsters, both female, sat at this table, and oddly enough, they looked fairly alike. Both had long blonde hair, both wore miniskirt robes and scarily large hats, and both looked fairly young. In addition, both were holding tea cups.

 

The difference between the two was that the one on the warrior's right was slightly shorter, wore a more garish hat, and carried a fancier staff than the one on the left. In addition, she looked the way the warrior felt: nervous and confused.

 

The one on the left, however, was currently smiling and making a most valiant attempt at engaging her shorter look-alike in conversation. It was failing, but it was a valiant attempt regardless.

 

A memory suddenly popped up in the warrior's mind, identifying the monster on the left as the Dark Magician Girl. He wondered why he had memories at all.

 

“Miss Linnalee?” the Benevolent Maiden asked the Dark Magician Girl.

 

Setting down her tea, Linnalee looked up to the maiden. “What is it, Catherine?”

”I think we have another Uprise here. Would you mind working with him?”

 

The spellcaster's already wide eyes went even wider, and she gestured to an empty seat. “No problem!” she said. “Please sit down, Mister… what is your number?”

 

When the question was asked, an instinct buried within all monsters awoke in the warrior. “DMK-001A,” he answered automatically, sitting down as he spoke.

 

Bowing to the group, Catherine walked away.

 

Linnalee snapped her fingers, and another cup of tea appeared in front of the warrior. “So… do you know what monster you are?”

 

Taking the tea, the warrior sipped it, and then shook his head. “No… all I know is that I can remember being a different one. I can't remember which one…” He then looked to her. “What monster am I?”

 

The Dark Magician Girl smiled. “You're the Dark Magician Knight,” she answered.

 

Suddenly, the tea cup slid from the Dark Magician Knight's fingers and hit the ground, shattering. The knight himself just stared into space, unbelieving.

 

That's not possible, he thought. The Dark Magician Knight was killed during the First Dragon War along with the first Dark Magician and the Dark Flare Knight. None of them were reborn - they had to train a new Dark Magician… Hold it. How do I know any of this?

 

Up to this point, the third monster at the table - the shorter look-alike of Linnalee - had stayed silent. Now, however, she set a hand on the Dark Magician Knight's arm and said, “Stop fighting the memories. It will be easier when you let them come without questioning them.”

 

Even as he took the advice to heart, the knight asked Linnalee, “How does she know that?”

“Because both of you went through the same thing,” Linnalee answered. “Both of you were alive once before, but died doing a heroic deed. Then you received the Uprise, which brought you back in stronger bodies…” She sighed. “Unfortunately, part of the revival process was that you retain some - but not all - of the memories from your past life. That's why you were so confused when you came back.”

 

The Dark Magician Knight let that sink in, and then asked the shorter girl, “So… what are you?”

“A Magicians Valkyria,” she answered. “But… I can remember what my name was in my past life.” She smiled. “I was called Tessia. Did you have a name?”

 

Before he could answer that, the knight was flooded with memories. This time, he let them take him where they would…

 

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“Hi! I'm Tessia.”

“Name? You have a NAME?”

 

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“So... If you don't have any place to stay, Naomi and I have a couch in the apartment you can crash on."

 

"Are you sure about that? Wouldn't people get the wrong idea if you have a male fiend living in your place?"

 

"I'm Level One, Fifteen. We don't have much dignity to begin with, so you might as well stay with me."

 

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"But you know you'll be executed! They won't even bother with jail! Are you willing to die?"

"The Graveyard has to be better than running and having other people die! If I hide here any longer, they're sure to find me, and if I run I put you at risk. I have no choice but to go out and settle this."

 

"I'm... I'm just scared for you..."

 

"And I'm terrified for me, but I'm out of choices now."

 

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“Back there, after the Copycat died, you kissed me. Might I ask why?”

 

“Well… I did almost kill you, and I'd never done it before…”

 

“So it was an apology, then?”

 

“No! It… it was…”

 

“If it's what I think it is, I feel the same way… But now is not a good time to discuss it. Best to discuss it when it isn't so likely we'll die halfway through.”

 

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“Fifteen, I… I love you…”

 

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As the tidal surge of memories came to an end, the Dark Magician Knight began to pant, mentally exhausted. Tessia took hold of his arm again. “Are you okay?”

Catching his breath, the warrior answered, “Yes… yes, I am. As for my name… All I can remember is the number fifteen. That was probably my number in my last life.”

 

On hearing the number, Tessia let go of his arm and fell back, grabbing onto her head. Linnalee was about to move to the Magicians Valkyria's aid when the warrior stopped her, saying, “Let it go. She's in the middle of a memory rush.”

“Are you sure?” the Dark Magician Girl asked.

 

“Because I just had one when I heard her name.” He blushed slightly. “We must have known each other before we died.”

 

As if to confirm it, a matching blush appeared on Tessia's face.

 

Linnalee giggled. “I see,” she said.

 

Even as Tessia came out of her memory rush with a guilty smile on her face, the Dark Magician Knight glanced over Linnalee's shoulder and saw someone coming. After a moment, his eyes widened, and he immediately straightened up in his chair.

 

Waving away the Benevolent Maidens who were trying to help him, the Dark Magician walked up to the table. His staff was strapped to his back, and in his hands he carried something… odd.

 

He was carrying a bowler hat in very bad shape. It was beaten up, dirty, and generally the sort that most monsters would throw out rather than try to repair.

 

Something about the hat set off a bell in the knight's mind, but he couldn't place it.

 

Before Raelvion (How do I know his name? the knight thought) could say anything, Linnalee squealed and jumped to her feet, hugging him. The mage winced and muttered, “Could you please hold off on that for a moment? I have business to conduct…”

Frowning, the Dark Magician Girl let go and stepped back.

 

Now free, Raelvion moved up to the table, setting the hat down. He looked first at the Magicians Valkyria, and then at the Dark Magician Knight. And then he smiled. “So… the Uprise isn't just a myth,” he said. “Just as I thought.”

 

The two monsters thus addressed looked to each other, and then back to him. Tessia asked the question both were thinking: “Did we know you before?”

 

“Indeed,” the Dark Magician answered. “I was there when you died…” He pushed the hat towards the Dark Magician Knight. “This used to belong to you. Maybe it will help.”

“Couldn't hurt,” the knight answered, and both he and Tessia touched it.

 

For a moment, it was like an electric shock. Both monsters shut their eyes and shuddered, as every memory they had lost in the transition came back to them. At the first opportunity, they withdrew their hands.

 

Raelvion waited a moment, and then asked the Dark Magician Knight, “Are you okay, Fifteen?”

There was a pause, and then the warrior thus addressed smiled. It was not the sort of smile one would expect from a knight; it was, in fact, about the same smile a Witty Phantom would have. “Now that I'm myself again, I think I will be.”

 

“Tessia?”

The Magicians Valkyria smiled as well. “I think I'll be fine,” she said, back to her old self.

 

“Can I keep the hat?” the Dark Magician Knight asked.

 

Laughing, Raelvion nodded. “It was your hat to begin with,” he replied, “so I have no objection. And one more thing… are you still going to go by Fifteen? After all, it's not your number anymore…”

 

“It's worked for me for my lifetime,” came the answer.

 

There was a moment's pause, and then the Dark Magician nodded. He then turned to Linnalee and whispered, “I think it's best if we leave them alone for now.”

In response, the Dark Magician Girl embraced him again, and Raelvion had a much-put-upon expression as the two walked away.

 

Once they were out of sight, Tessia slid from her chair, embracing Fifteen tightly. He had expected this, and returned the embrace with honors.

 

“I thought we would be parted forever,” the Magician of Faith-turned-Magicians Valkyria whispered.

 

“As did I,” the Witty Phantom-turned-Dark Magician Knight whispered back. “But that was not our fate.”

“I love you…”

“And I you.”

Reunited, the lovers kissed, knowing that death had failed to part them.

 

0000000

 

In the Central Shadow Realm, few things last for long. Even though the city itself is thousands of years old, its nature means that what you expect to last forever is often gone by the next morn.

 

But some things will not change. They will withstand the tests of time and fate. Even now, after Jinzo's attempts to lay it to waste, the Central Shadow Realm has some things that will not change.

 

In the Scorpion's Den, under the Warrior Living Quarters, the Dark Scorpions clean out soot from certain misplaced firebombs.

 

Somewhere, in an undisclosed location, the Dark Ruler Ha Des receives a gift from a Vampire Lord eager to please: a Leogun-skin rug.

 

Aysev and Geefor, now freed from the Shadow Killer case, enjoy a little time off. They spend it at the Library Arcanium - Geefor examining the rare books, Aysev admiring the weapon displays.

 

The Shadow Council chamber rings with debates and arguments as Exodia the Forbidden One, fully aware how close it all just came to an end, rubs his temples and fights another migraine.

 

And in the Beginner's Hall, two souls who thought their days were at an end live again.

 

None can be sure if Fifteen and Tessia will be together forever, or if another calamity will bring their time to an abrupt halt. For now, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters except that they are alive and they are together.

Love can bring great pain, and it can bring great joy. They have had their pain, and now they bask in the joy, and will for as long as they can.

 

And with that, let us leave this tale behind, and leave the Central Shadow Realm with it for now.

 

The Central Shadow Realm is a city of ten thousand stories. I have told you all I can of this one.

 

The End