Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ The War of the Sun ❯ Beginnings ( Chapter 1 )
[ A - All Readers ]
The figure stood at the brink of dusk, crimson eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of activity. It was reported to him that the enemy had bridged the northern border and was presently heading for their base. He snorted; like they would have any chance against his supreme forces.
Casting one last fleeting glance at the horizon, he turned away, his black cape catching the crisp-morning wind and billowing behind him as he made his way back down the hill.
“Captain, the forward lookout post has spotted an enemy messenger in our territory” his aid, a scrawny boy, a few years younger than himself with silver eyes and a mop of blue hair reported feebly, cowering in his regal shadow as he peered down at him expectantly.
He studied the others features. Why he was cowering as he was was unknown to him and it puzzled him greatly, but it wasn't relevant at the time. He had to come to a conclusion about what to make of this messenger. He was greatly unexpected and anyone of enemy decent were supposed to be terminated, by law, however, this one had escaped this law's clutches, a fact that greatly intrigued him and had won the stranger a council appointment.
Disregarding the other's behavior, he slowly turned in the direction of his tent, his cape sweeping gently from side to side after him. “When he arrives, bring him to my tent. I would like a word with this elusive stranger.”
And with that he disappeared into the depths of the tent, leaving his aid to contemplate what had just happened. He had managed to have a conversation, well not really a conversation, he mused, but an exchange of words without the other blowing up at him. It was a miracle.
Grinning broadly, he straightened his stance and he began to strut away from the captain's tent and into the bustling campsite of his fellow men, earning suspicious glances as he walked past, his nose held high in a pompous manner as he cast them looks of superiority.
The men just cast him looks of disgust. Features twisted into malicious snarls as they returned to their work of sharpening the edges of their weapons on the round stones that littered the straight.
Out of sight of the spying eyes of his numerous trainees, the captain collapsed upon the ground, his back leaning heavily against the side of the tent as his legs stretched out in front of him. Intertwining his fingers, he rested his closed palms atop his knees. An exhausted sigh escaped his lips, as his lids slid closed.
He was sick of it, all of it. The fighting, the stringent security measures…the time spent plotting the destruction of an enemy he didn't even want to destroy…just sick of it. This was not the kind of person he wanted to be, no, he wanted to be someone who could embrace his desires, someone who could venture out into the sunset, not knowing where the wind would take them… someone who could find their other half. He froze.
The last thought was unexpected, but he sighed despite it.
He knew that he was yearning to be accepted, to feel loved, but he did not want to be loved by just anyone. He wanted to be loved by someone who could accept him for who he was, not some captain that had been appointed to the position on his father's wishes, hoping to beat the gentle nature out of him. Sighing again, he drew his knees up to his chest, and hugged them, peering distantly at the thick, woven, material of the tent in front of him.
He wanted it so badly it ached.
A faint ripple of the opening of his tent sent his eyes darting toward the entryway and he hastily stood up, all evidence of his previous disarray being wiped clean as his infamous look of indifference stole across his features, his cape swishing lightly behind him.
“Captain, what are you doing?”
“Is it any of your business what I do with my personal time, Seto?”
Taken aback slightly from the young captain's reaction, but not willing to show it, Seto shook his head in irritation before waving the heavy cloth of the tent's opening away from himself and striding into the tent's affluent interior with long-gaited strides.
“It is not my business what you do in your personal time, Atemu, but it is definitely my business when I peak in and see you sitting there on the ground, looking as if your puppy just died.”
“What the hell would you know about it?!”
“I know you, Atemu, and I also know that, when something is bothering you, you don't let it show unless its something really big.”
The irritation that had so clearly been chiseled into each and every one of the words in the last statement, faded away with this one, the warm and comforting tone that he had used with the other on many other occasions lacing through the words without his knowing.
The cerise eyes of the captain, and long-time friend, stayed trained to his own cerulean in disbelieving shock as he regarded the other with a soft smile, the unforgiving, icy look that usually dominated their depths melting away to leave place for the soft cerulean that was reserved only for the other.
“And I can see that something is clearly bothering you.”
Seeing his first officer and only friend watching him in a mixture of soft intrigue and curiosity, Atemu tried to shake himself from his shock and recover the scattered pieces of his dazed mind.
“How did you??”
It was a poor attempt on his part, but it was the best he could do. With random thoughts flitting madly through his head, most involving what the outcome would be if anyone found out about his views on the war and his part in it, he was finding it extremely difficult to form even the simplest of thoughts.
Seeing that his friend's mind was still in a virtual mess, Seto inwardly chuckled to himself before gazing softly down at his friend.
“It is plainly obvious with how you frequently go off into your own little world, your eyes looking faraway and detached…”
Seto's carefree disposition vanished and he gazed down at the other sadly, concern starting to radiate off his aura.
“…It is almost as if your being is engulfed by a deep sorrow that only you could understand…”
Hearing the other's concern as well as feel his fraught gaze on his back, Atemu felt the grip of sorrow consume him once more.
“I'm fine, Seto…”
“Liar”
It wasn't spoken out of frustration, but a worry that could so clearly be heard within that one soft, whispered word, felt within the chords that laced through it…seen as cerulean eyes pooled over with hidden anxiety as they waited for the other to continue…
Atemu sensed this and turned tired crimson eyes, weighed down with the burden of untold emotions, up at the other.
“What would you like me to tell you?”
Hearing the weary inquiry as well as see the drained look in Atemu's eyes, Seto shook his head from side to side slowly before he embraced his friend of three years.
“Atemu…it's not what I would like you to tell me…but what you want to tell me…”
Drawing back slightly, Seto gazed down into his friend's burdened ruby sorrowfully.
“…Because I am here for you…That is my job as your friend and first officer…I am here when you need me, through thick or thin….It isn't just a responsibility I have to do, but its one I want to do…”
Seeing the anguished look in the other's eyes, Seto felt his heart wrench painfully, but continued on anyway.
“Contradictory to popular belief, I cannot possibly force you to tell me something…it is against everything I stand for to do that to someone I care about. Besides…only you and you alone can reveal what is truly plaguing your thoughts…I, nor anyone else, can force you…”
Hearing the other's wise words, Atemu felt his head incline slightly, as his eyes fell to the ground and he slowly mulled over what the other had said.
This was true, despite how much he wished it wasn't.
For as long as he had been appointed a captain and had been forbidden to venture off into the land like he once had, he had been secretly mourning the loss of his freedom. Imprisoned from the outside world and constantly under the close watch of his guard, Atemu was forbidden to leave the enclosures of camp. This was, unless, a supervisor had been dispatched from the main troops and had been given the position that Atemu now called “The Leach Position.”
Under his father's orders, the `leach' was supposed to stick to Atemu like glue, completely aggravating him beyond belief until he got a twitch in his eye that his troops had labeled “the never-ending twitch.”
However much he tried to deny it, however much he tried to ignore it, it was true; that twitch absolutely refused to go away.
Not even the hours spent trying to ditch the scout subdued the unruly twitch. In the end, he was only left to grumble as the surveyor stood there, looking at him smugly as if he had just managed to catch the hare that managed to get away. Oh, how he wished to strangle him…
But that wasn't what was important right now…Seto was still standing there, expecting an answer out of him and he had to come up with one before his friend became even more concerned than he already was for his well-being.
Sighing lightly, Atemu tore his tired eyes away from the ground to stare into anxious cerulean reassuringly.
“I just need time.”
It was only four words, but it was enough for Seto. Seto knew that the other knew that he would have to come out with what was bothering him sooner or later. If it wasn't for himself, or for the imperativeness of another situation, Seto knew that something deep within Atemu would eventually give him no choice but to reveal the dark secrets that had been plaguing his mind these past few months.
A series of yells from outside broke Seto from his reverie and the two figures turned startled in the direction the shouts were coming from.
A short second passed and a smug smirk became placed on Seto's features.
Turning back to the young captain and seeing that he still had a distanced, startled look on his features as his crimson eyes wavered on the fold of heavy fabric of the tent's entryway, he made a light `pssssss'ing sound.
Crimson orbs left the fold of fabric and gazed confusedly into smug cerulean.
Seto smirked.
“I wonder what havoc my little brother is wrecking now.”
Cerise eyes glazed over momentarily, their owner mulling over the words' meaning. Realization dawned and a smug smirk was brandished across the captain's full lip.
A silent exchange of words was exchanged between joint cerulean and cerise and the two figures exited the tent, the heavy fabric falling shut behind them.
Narrowed amethyst eyes surveyed the camp ground silently, shinning depths alighted and tangible with noticeable hints of caution. Golden strands tinted with the sun's glowing light swept and mingled across the boy's alabaster features, focused continence held stalwartly on the campgrounds that stretched out before him. A soft whiny beneath him brought his attention down momentarily, before it returned to what he had been staring at previously. There was a boy, no, a man down there that looked strangely like him. Though he could only see the tri-colored spikes from this distance, that was enough to prove to him that they shared an uncanny resemblance. He had never seen, nor heard of anyone else sharing a similar hairstyle.
Guiding his mare down the mountain side, keeping her gait calmly at a gathered walk, he continued to look at the mysterious figure. He was currently wandering around the campgrounds from tent to tent, seemingly checking on weapon production and such, as he levelly surveyed him. Though he could not clearly see his features from this vantage, he could tell by how the man carried himself that he was not to be messed with. He was not sure of his rank, but, by the way he carried himself, he could stake his life on the fact that he was of the higher ranks.
His attention again taken away by the mare, he chuckled lightly as he bobbed her head as if in agreement. Looking one last time at the distant figure, the amethyst eyed boy smiled lightly to himself before he devoted all of his attention to the mare under him.
They had been venturing for days now and he knew with some confidence that the mare must be tired. He had tried to give her as much rest as possible, letting her sleep in places where he was sure that they were out of the sight of scouts. He too was tired, but he was more worried about the mare than himself. It was a part of his nature that he knew got him into a lot of trouble, but he did not mind in the slightest; it was a part of himself that he cherished.
Hearing the mare sneeze lightly beneath him, he smiled slightly and patted her withers lightly. Yes, he knew she was tired, but she, like himself, knew they were almost there. They were venturing to the camp where he had seen the mysterious figure only moments ago. Looking up from the mare's neck, amethyst eyes stared towards the campsite and the horizon where the sun was just beginning to come up. Maybe he would meet the mysterious figure, but, first he had to take care of the reason of why he was here. There was important business to be discussed and it was imperative that it be discussed as quickly as possible. If it was not discussed and resolved, the world would be plunged into a war the likes of which it had never seen. It was his duty to protect his people and if that meant going into the heart of enemy territory, so be it. He knew he was probably in danger, but he also knew that the enemy would not harm him. He knew they knew that, if they did, his people would respond with a battle cry that could not be matched. He knew they knew that, if they harmed him, his peoples' swords would slash through them and bring them to the gates of hell faster than a bolt of lightning could crash and rip the sand on which they stood to pieces. He knew that they knew this, because he was the prince of the Vendamar. He was a prince and nobody harmed a prince without consequence. The blood that leaked from the rapidly cooling bodies of princes' spoke of the blood that would be spilled in retribution. If merely a cut scraped his delicate flesh, his people would respond with an unforgivable round of manslaughter that the enemy was not willing to risk. It was for this reason that he had faith that the enemy may agree with his solution to the problem at hand. They wanted a war no more than he or his people did. It was a very delicate situation and, if even the slightest thing went wrong, the two clans would be plunged into a war that neither of them had wanted. He was a bit scared of this fact, but he had least had to try. It was his duty to his people and himself, to try.
Guiding his mare even deeper into the heart of enemy territory, he gulped as the campgrounds of the enemy soldiers loomed even closer. His mare tossed her head lightly, as if sensing his agitation. He looked down at her briefly before looking back down the mountain side at the enemy troops with slightly fearful eyes.
“Please, Kami, be with me…”