Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ The Love of a Priestess ❯ Museum of Memories ( Chapter 37 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: All right, ladies (and gentlemen, if there happen to be any reading. If you are of the opposite sex than me, DO LEAVE A REVIEW! I want to know who's reading… ^^ anyway, back to the note), that's it! I have no more chapters left in my stockpile. None. It's empty. I have a whopping 600 words of Chapter 38 done.

Naturally, all this means that updates will be even slower. I'm sorry!!!

Thanks to Jenny Galaxie and witchhunterR for their reviews! I love the encouragement, and if you want updates—LEAVE A REVIEW!

Chapter 37: Museum of Memories

I reasoned that I could not hone my Duel Monsters skills until after Kaiba's tournament, when Kaiba, Yugi, Mai, and Joey had more time on their hands. Right now, they were up to their necks in duels—and other dark matters.

When I first caught whiff of the Rare Hunters I was instantly alarmed, a puppy whose hackles were raised, a kitten whose miniature fangs were barred, a dragon whose wings were unfurled and ready for a fight. Who were these jerks to mess around with my friends and their minds? I was prepared to go out and deal with the Rare Hunters myself, but he stopped me.

“This is their battle,” he said in that soft way that spoke of infinite wisdom.

“But…” I protested helplessly. “Can't I do anything?”

“You can watch, and wait. They are plenty strong, my dear—they will withstand the Rare Hunters and their leader. They must fulfill this part of Destiny on their own. You, meanwhile, have other matters to take care of.”

That said, we began training with the Seal again, and I very nearly did forget about the Rare Hunters. I was growing stronger at an agonizingly slow pace. Every time he summoned a new strength of Seal, I failed at least three times before I succeeded—and after every success followed the inevitable fainting-and-coffee routine. It frustrated me to no end, and I would often leave the house cranky and angry.

The day that I finally broke the Seal without fainting should have been a day of triumph for me. I had finally harnessed my power without over-exerting myself, which meant that I was becoming stronger, both magically and mentally. I jumped happily and hugged him (which surprised him quite a bit) when I found myself still standing at the end of the lesson, not needing coffee, my head not even spinning.

I treated myself to a cup of coffee with sugar and cream, stirring it until it became a warm, milky brown color. I smiled happily at the sweet drink and sipped it luxuriously. He grinned and passed me a cup of mango juice. I smiled and accepted it.

“You did very well today,” he noted, a smile still playing across his lips. I nodded and allowed myself to revel in my victory for just a moment longer.

“So what's next?” I asked sharply, swallowing the last of the coffee and moving on to the juice.

He didn't seem at all surprised by my quick turnaround. “We wait for you to unlock more memories.”

I sighed impatiently. “I have no control over that, you have no control over that, isn't there something we can do that we can control?”

“Perhaps. Your dueling skills must definitely be improved. But that must wait until the end of Kaiba's tournament.”

“And I still need to work with that stupid stone,” I grumbled.

“That will also have to wait.”

“What?” I asked sharply. I was still so weak… the power of the Stones that we worked with were nothing, I felt, compared to the actual power of the Seal.

“I can no longer control the Seal on my own. What you broke today was the extent of my power.” I was, quite literally, shocked. I had always envisioned the two of them as invincible pillars of strength and wisdom and power… It unnerved me to hear that his power was limited to this, that he could not even begin to introduce me to the true strength of the Seal.

“But…”

“When she returns with her brother, we will be much stronger, trust me. We will be able to prepare you more adequately for the challenge you face. Speaking of which…” he added with a frown.

“What is it?” I asked anxiously.

“Never mind,” he said quickly, and the look passed from his face. I worried, though… Finally, he smiled crookedly and looked at me. “Enjoy this while it lasts. You've made a great deal of progress in a short amount of time. It is not something to be taken lightly. Relax tonight. Come again in six days. By then, I will have hopefully come up with something more for you.”

I nodded and left.

--------------

The length of Kaiba's Duel Monsters tournament irritated me, but there was nothing I could do about it. Mai, Joey, Yugi—they were all superior duelists who weren't about to lose quietly—or quickly. I saw them briefly nearly every day as I wandered the city like a lost soul. Then, tournament finals arrived, and everyone disappeared onto Kaiba's sophisticated blimp. I, of course, was left behind by choice. As much as I had missed my friends (and, to my surprise, my husband) during the weeks of the tournament, I couldn't afford to interfere. The Rare Hunters, I'd heard, were down but not beaten, and though I never ceased to worry, he'd pointedly informed me over and over that this was not my battle.

Mine, naturally, would come later, be infinitely more destructive, and would no doubt involve some freak-haired, creepy-eyed, weird-accented idiot intent on destroying the world via some moronic plan that he would be willing to die for. Which really, when you think about it, defeats the purpose of destroying the world, but I wasn't going to ask.

In the meantime, I began to focus on again on my Channeling. I wasn't sure where to find more memories, but then I remembered the exhibit at the museum Yugi and Tea had told me about. Yami had briefly mentioned it as well, but it had been careless and in passing. Curious, I set out for the exhibit on my own.

I picked what I thought would be the quietest day of the week (Thursday—who goes out on a Thursday?) and went late in the day, when most people would begin thinking about going home for dinner. I walked briskly down the streets, feeling the soft summer breeze whistle by. When I got to the tall set of steps, I felt a little tug at the back of my mind. Smiling slightly, I took the stairs two at a time until I reached the large front doors. I paid my entrance fee and stepped inside.

As I wandered down hallways I slipped off my light sweater, preparing myself for the coming Channeling. As I walked through rooms I saw artifacts and paintings from various time periods. I had seen most of them before, and most of the truth they were supposed to represent. None of them had suited my purposes and needs. None of them had helped me complete the cycle. I prayed this age would be different.

The Egyptian exhibit was, to my great delight, completely empty. Not a soul in sight. Perfect. I wandered around the room, trailing my fingers over the glass covering the ancient artifacts. They sparked at my touch, warming to my presence, eager to relinquish whatever they could offer me. Even in this life, in this time, in this place, they knew whom they were to answer to.

Finally, I settled down at a bench in the center of the room, facing an old stone tablet. It was one I hadn't seen before, which meant that it was either more recently discovered or considered unimportant for my Channeling. Whichever it was, I was going to unlock its secrets. I checked to make sure it was the right Pharaoh, the right time period, and then I reached out my hand, fingers spread, waiting. I steadied my breathing, and closed my eyes.

-----------------

“Yami!” she cried, hurrying through the halls. Even now, she used the name he told her over his given name.

She skidded around a corner sharply, nearly running into the departing physician. The old woman grinned and patted her head.

“You shouldn't be running, my child. We don't want anything to happen, now do we?”

“No, of course not,” she replied, cheeks flushed with happiness. “It's just that…”

The old woman smiled at the young woman. “Of course. I understand.”

She smiled at the doctor and hurried away, out into the gardens. Sometimes he would take walks out here to calm his mind, or just to think. She hurried past the blooming flowers and flowing fountains and found him kneeling before a young sapling. Its small, slim limbs reached upward, and tiny white flowers bloomed amongst the leaves. At the base of the tiny tree was a neatly kept circle of wild grasses and flowers. Embedded in the ground, barely visible amongst the blooms, was the Sign of the Temple laid in white stones.

Her message of joy dried on her lips as she gazed at Yami kneeling there. She looked away, biting her lip, fighting the tears in her eyes. Even now, years afterward… both of them had wounds that even time could not heal. Great, gaping voids in their hearts that even the other could not fill.

He must have heard her soft footsteps, because he turned his head to look at her.

“Three years ago,” he whispered. “So much has changed since then… because of it. I never thought… I never thought…”

At a loss for words, he reached out to her, and she went, curling herself into his embrace. He held her against him, stroking her hair, as the tears she had fought so hard against spilled out. From the way his body was gently shuddering against hers, she knew that he was crying as well.

“It shouldn't hurt,” she whispered into his chest. “It shouldn't hurt,” she repeated numbly. “After all this time… why does it still hurt?”

“Because we loved him,” he whispered into her hair. “Because we loved him, and he betrayed us.”

“I can't believe…”

“Me neither.”

She uncurled herself from his hold and crawled to the base of the tree. She laid her small, white hands over the trunk and leaned against it, almost hugging it.

“Why?” she whispered to it softly, begging for an answer. “Why?” she wailed.

He crawled to her and held her again, this time laying his hands against the tree as well. “Maybe there is a reason we do not know the answer, my dove. I'd like to think… that we do not suffer thus for no reason at all.” She looked up into his dark violet eyes and saw the pain, the deep, consuming pain of betrayal.

They remained silent for many moments, lying against the tree, trying to derive strength and courage from it and each other.

“You had something to tell me,” he said softly after some time, wrapping his arms comfortingly around her shoulders.

She nodded, and allowed herself a half-smile. “Yes, I did.”

“I'm sure that this is as good a place as any to tell,” he murmured. “And I'm sure that…” Yami paused, then took a deep breath. “Hewould have wanted to hear as well.”

She looked upward into the snowy white branches, and gave a little smile. With one arm she continued to embrace the tree, while the other hand reached for one of Yami's. She took his long fingers and pressed them between her own, guiding them towards her. She laid them flat against her belly, and pressed them down gently.

His eyes followed the line of her arm to her outspread fingers, and the web of his beneath hers. Startled, barely daring to comprehend, he looked back up into her eyes. She smiled weakly, uncertainly, the tears still shining in her eyes.

“Is it…?”

She nodded, taking a little breath and smiling. Her fingers tightened over his. “Yes,” she said, breathlessly.

He smiled, amethyst eyes lighting up. Tentatively he moved his hand over her stomach, awestruck.

“She said six months. She thinks it's a girl,” she said smiling bashfully, looking away into the tree. Are you happy for me too? she asked, wishing she could hear the answer.

Yami repeated the words, still seemingly in shock. “I can't believe…” he managed to whisper. He smiled at his wife and kissed her. “She'll be so beautiful…” he murmured. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed and he frowned slightly. “Are you sure you're strong enough?”

She looked at him with wide eyes, confused. “Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?”

“After the last time… and the time before that… they said it would be impossible for us to try again.”

She shook her head violently, trying to dispel all of Yami's concern. “The doctor said everything would be fine. I'm still healthy, and so is she—“ she pressed her fingers gently against her stomach for emphasis “—and everything looks fine so far! Last time I didn't even make it past two months.”

“But the time before…” Yami's eyes clouded darkly. She looked away, stifling a sob.

“This time will be different. I promise,” she whispered, clutching his hand in hers.

Yami gazed down at her helplessly. What could he do? There was no turning back now—either things would work out or they wouldn't. Neither of them had much control over it anymore. “Thank you,” he whispered into her ear, kissing it lightly and hugging her close with one arm. With the other he gripped the trunk of the sapling, speaking to it silently. Is this my punishment, cousin? To watch the woman I—no, we—loved suffer? She is trying so hard… Are you up there—angry, hurt, betrayed, laughing at our pain? Please, gods, leave her out of this… It is not her fault…

She leaned her head back against Yami's shoulder, comforted by his presence. Out of the corner of her eye she looked up again at the tiny white flowers… I am so sorry I was not able give you the same, she thought sadly, watching as a blossom fell and landed atop hers and Yami's intertwined fingers.

----------------

As the memory faded my hand dropped slowly, weakly to my lap. My body and spirit felt heavy, weighed down by the memory. I lay down on the bench, curling on my side, shutting my eyes tightly closed. I knew—knew, I don't know if it was from the stone or the memory or simple gut instinct—that things had not “worked out.” And it pained me beyond belief.

But it wasn't over yet. No. It could never be so simple, could it?

As I lay there, I felt the gentle prodding at the back of my mind. I pushed it away; I didn't want to see anymore today. What I had seen hurt me, in ways I didn't understand. Why did I care so much? Was it because I loved Yami, and because Yami had told me that he'd wanted children, and it seemed as though his priestess-Queen could bear him none? Or was it something deeper than that? But the pushing continued… a small, weak, thin, persistent thread that wanted me to reach out and accept it. Practically whimpering, I sat up and looked around for the source of the message.

It was coming from a small stone in a separate case. It was only a fragment, a corner broken off in a square shape about the length and width of my forearm. Looking closely, I could barely make out the shapes of men and women. Squinting, I glanced down and noticed the tag accompanying the relic. I skimmed it, noting that it was thought to be from the period after the fall of the Temples. Shivers ran up and down my spine.

The fall of the Temples?

The plaque failed to elaborate any more on the subject. Gingerly, grimly, I reached my hand out towards the stone.

---------------

“Go! Find every one of them and bring them into the main hall!” a gruff voice barked orders.

The pounding of feet and the scuffling of shoes and men as they tore through the halls… the usually bright, gay rooms were dark, gloomy, and fires burned in many of them. I pressed myself against a wall and held my breath, waiting for them to pass. I had no idea what was going on. After fleeing the Hall of Kings with Yami, he'd sent me back to the safety of the Temples. I would be protected there, he said, by the priestesses.

I hadn't expected this.

Quickly, sensing they were gone, I scurried through the hallways and slipped into a closet. Heart pounding in my ears, I pushed open the trapdoor and hurried down the winding staircase, careful to slam the door shut behind me as I began my descent.

I heard their praying before I saw them, the soft, pitiful chanting flowing quietly up the staircase. They would not be heard by the men pillaging the Temple. As my feet carried me lower I entered the soft circle of light cast by their candles and lamps. The chanting and praying died down, and silence followed. The only sound was that of my slippered feet padding down the stone steps.

At last, I reached the second to last step and stood there, looking down on them. They faced me, fear and anguish written all over their faces. The High Priestess, the young girl who had been chosen the same day I was, raised her arm and pointed accusingly at me, her voice a sharp, shrill shriek.

“Whore!”

The word echoed painfully through the stone chamber, and the other priestesses began to mutter darkly. Few of them would disagree with the High Priestess.

“How dare you show your face in here?” she demanded, stepping forward so that only one step separated us. Her pale hand reached out and struck me hard across the face. I didn't flinch. She remained below me, trembling in rage. Yet even now, she knew I was her superior.

I gazed sadly at the women who had once been my fellows—women that I'd grown up with, women that I'd loved and who'd loved me in return. And now, I could not blame them for their anger. I'd been chosen, over all of them, to be the High Priest's consort. And how miserably I had failed him, and the Temples. And now I had brought this destruction upon them.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered coldly. My emotions were gone, detached. I felt nothing inside me, but I was acutely aware of my physical self. I knew the white hands that lay still at my sides, the twisting bracelet Seth had given me on my right wrist, the exotic pearl ring on my left hand. The wrought-gold and sapphire ring from Yami rested on my right hand. The circlet of royalty rested over my forehead, while the heavy collar of a priestess hung about my neck. Two earrings—a ruby drop and a crystal shard. The fine linen of the Pharaoh's palace graced my body, while the traditional belt of the Priest's Priestess was cinched at my waist. What a paradox I was. At once Priestess, at once Queen. And yet at the same time I was neither.

“What happened?” I asked.

No one made a move to respond. But then one young woman stepped forward, elbowing aside her sisters to face me. I'd shared a room with her once, before I'd been chosen, before I'd moved away. Arya, that was her name.

“They came for you.”

“What?” I asked, eyes widening. “Impossible. They wouldn't…”

“They have,” she said quietly, pain and tears manifesting themselves in her blue eyes. “After you disappeared, they came, all of them. They've only been here for a few hours, but this is what we've been reduced to. They knew you would come back here. You would've been safe here, any other time…”

“They say that it is time for a new system. A new way of thinking. All the priests here, out there, are following him,” another priestess supplied.

“Who? Who is he?” I demanded, lifting my chin at the challenge.

“The new High Priest,” the High Priestess said dully.

I felt my body go cold, every ounce of warmth drained from me. My cheeks turned a ghostly white, my eyes widened in fright. I could feel my fingers begin to tremble. The other priestesses were watching me, equally as frightened as I was. Trying to collect myself, I took in several shuddering breaths before I spoke again.

“What… does he want?”

“He has ordered his priests to burn the Temple and bring the priestesses before him,” the High Priestess continued, not looking at me. It must be hard for her, I thought to myself, not being able to protect her priestesses.

“They destroying the Temples,” the High Priestess repeated. “They are destroying the way things have always been. They are removing the priestesses from power, and putting themselves in our places. They are determined to control this half of the kingdom. They say they can speak to the gods, and yet we still hear their voices.”

“The priests are telling us to blame you,” Arya whispered. “They say the High Priest was too weak, and that you took advantage of him.”

The whole situation seemed to be beyond my grasp. I could hardly understand the reasoning, or even what was going on. But I knew that the priestesses needed me now, even if they hated me, even if they wished me dead and worse. I knew only one way to help them, though.

“Stay here. Keep praying. The gods will have mercy on us.” I hesitated to use “us,” fearing that they did not consider me one of them anymore. But if anyone noticed, they chose to ignore it. “Let me out through the secret exit. I will bring help.”

“It would be better… if you would go yourself to him, and ask for mercy.”

I did not know who spoke, and I did not care. At the mention of the new High Priest my body froze, frightened, and I shook my head violently. Thisthey noticed, and it only increased their own fear.

“I cannot. It would serve no purpose other than to destroy any hope of help. I have had run-ins with him, and I am powerless against him.” The High Priestess seemed to understand, and she stepped aside. The other priestesses quickly followed suit. I walked slowly, regally through them, but my hands quivered and my mind was in a frenzy.

As soon as I had reached the door to the exit I turned back to them one last time. “I'll bring help, I promise,” I whispered, then stepped out into the dark Egyptian night.

----------------

I stood before the stone, rooted there, barely able to support myself yet held there by some invisible force. The second memory frightened me as much as the first. The ominous, foreboding feeling in my chest had only increased. Everyone seemed to be trapped in endless webs, lost and confused and doomed, able to see the spider that came for them but unable to stop it.

The weight on my shoulders suddenly became too much as another, older memory came back to me.

“What has happened at the Temples?”

The words echoed in my skull painfully. She went for the Pharaoh—the only one who could save the priestesses. But the realization that there was hope for the priestess and her fellows did nothing to alleviate the pain coursing through my body. Even if the Pharaoh had been able to help, something told me it had been for naught. I dropped to my knees, closing my eyes, trying to block out everything I knew and didn't want to know.

“What did you see?” he asked quietly, footsteps echoing in the room.

I didn't stir. “How did you know I was here?” I attempted to avoid the question.

“I knew,” he answered simply. “You could have gotten in for free, you know.” When I didn't answer, he continued. “We could've gotten you in. If you'd wanted, you could've seen the tablets in the basement. They are similar to the ones underneath the house.”

“I don't want to see them right now,” I said quietly. Or ever, I thought to myself.

As if in understanding, he came to crouch beside me and squeezed my hand comfortingly. I opened one eye just enough to see the sad expression on his face. “Tell me what you saw.”

“I'd rather not.”

We sat quietly for a few more moments, then I opened my eyes and looked over at him. “Can you tell me what happened to the Pharaoh and the High Priest?” I asked quietly.

“Not all of it. Depends on what you want to know.”

“How did they die?”

The question must have surprised him, because he was silent.

“That,” he said quietly, voice low and solemn. “I can tell you.”