Author's Notes:

It's been a while, and I have a lot of reasons for not updating. Actually, I have one. My editor hasn't been editing lately. I had this chapter written for June…but ya know. She has a life of her own. So, by now, my promise for an October or November finish has failed. I have another chapter waiting to be edited, but I am a bit stumped with the one following that. So, I am going to write the epilogue and probably go backwards and hope that I can get the inspiration for that chapter. We are coming down to the end of the story, only four more chapters to go.

So, enjoy :D

Hitting Home

Ryou freezes, watching as his people fly about, trying to escape the bursts of energy coming from the assailants. Bodies fall to the ground in large numbers as angels are killed and set aflame.

"My Prince!" it is one of the Guardian Angels who grabs Ryou by the arm and starts dragging him away.

"What's happening?" Asks the dazed Prince, turning to watch the massacre as he is pulled further away from his people.

"We're under attack." The angel responds. "Hurry, we need to get to your father." The man tugs harshly at Ryou's arm, but the teen only digs his heels into the ground.

"Why don't we just fly?" Ryou asks, eying the angel skeptically. The man frowns, turning to face the prince. Slowly, his face melts away, his skin flaking off to reveal a pallid complexion unknown to the Angel Prince. Next goes his uniform, which peels off in long strips, leaving the man in a new getup.

"Because, you aren't allowed to leave here alive." The half'n'half lunges at Ryou, claws poised for his throat. The angel takes a step back, preparing his own burst of magic, only to be knocked over by the force of the tackle. Claws dig into his throat as Ryou desperately tries to escape his assailant.

A ball of light energy shoots out from the right, knocking the half'n'half off the angel. Ryou is quick to get back on his feet as Joey approaches, followed by Malik and Yugi.

"C'mon Ry!" Joey calls to the angel.

Ryou slowly tenses, watching his friends through cautious eyes. He had been tricked once before; he wasn't about to be tricked again.

"Ry, what are ya doing?" Joey asks, moving closer to the boy. The boy looks like Joey, and he sounds like Joey, but there is no way to know for sure that he is Joey. Ryou takes a tentative step backwards, preparing his own blast of energy. Joey's eyes widen as the implication of the action sets in.

"Ry, what are ya doing? We're tryin' ta help!" Joey takes another step towards the Prince.

Ryou shoots a weak bolt of energy at the group, watching as they jump out of the way. Taking his free time, the boy turns and heads back towards the tents.

Where is he to go now? There's no one he can trust and a battle is going on behind him. Should he just run into the battle, help a bit and hope to escape? Or should he stay hidden?

Ryou sighs, ducking beneath a stray energy bolt. He scans the battlefield, looking for any openings that he can take advantage of. However, his search is interrupted by a voice calling his name.

"My Prince?" The question is but a whisper carried by the wind, but Ryou hears it and turns to the source of the voice.

~.~

Bakura watches as the little pieces scurry across his chess board, pieces occasionally disappearing and reappearing in different squares, while others get cut in half and disappear and reappear on the side of the board.

"Anything interesting?" Marik asks, strolling casually into the tent.

Bakura's eyes never leave the board, and his answer is borderline dismissive, "The angels are under attack."

This catches Marik's attention as he walks towards his King and looks for himself at the board.

"Where are ours?"

"There and there." The King points to the two angels boredly.

"Why aren't we helping them?"

"This is their battle, why intrude?" Bakura questions, cocking an eyebrow.

"I thought you love him?" Marik points out.

"Love?" The answer is followed by a silver colored brow disappearing behind Bakura's wild bangs.

"You know what I mean."

"Look, it's the half'n'halfs that are attacking. My job is to ensure the safety of my people, and the half'n'halfs are one of the few species that are strong enough to do serious damage to us. So, for now, we will watch and wait." Bakers explains.

"Makes sense," Marik acknowledges. "Now, let's talk about why the hell you chose Iona."

"Interesting time to bring it up," Bakura states. Eyes still not looking towards the chessboard.

"It's as good a time as any. As you're obviously not interested in the battle, we might as well speak." Marik reasons.

"Fine then," the King concedes.

Preparing an energy bolt, Ryou slowly turns to where the voice came from.

Wind whips wildly around, as the battlefield grows dark. White strands of hair block Ryou's vision as he peers into what lays beyond.

"My Prince?" The question is whispered once again, so softly that the Angel Prince only just hears it.

Ryou strains his eyes, trying to catch even the slightest flair of a robe or whipping of hair. Though there is nothing except the trees lining the edge of the forest behind the tents, the call keeps coming, taunting the Prince, beckoning him.

Taking a deep breath, the Prince tries to clear his head. He has to think. This could be another trap; anything could be another trap. His friends, his father, his enemies, his lover. He doesn't know who he can trust and who is putting up a fake face.

"My Prince, where are you going?" Ryou takes another step back. The voice seems loud and clear this time around; yet, he still can't find a physical form to match said voice.

Ryou is tempted to call back, but that means truly acknowledging the voice and the power it holds over him. The power of controlling him, controlling what he says and doesn't say and how he reacts to the overwhelming waves of fear crashing down on his body. The boy wants to turn away, but turning away would leave his back exposed to the owner of the unknown voice. He wants to run away, but running is useless, he wants to scream, but there are no words that can describe his horror.

"My Prince, where are you going?"

What if that person is a civilian? He can't shoot his bolt of energy now; it's powerful enough to do some serious damage. What if that person is a child? He could kill it in a single blast. But, what if that person is an enemy, waiting to kill him? A single blast would be all that's needed to stop him. A single blast is all that's blocking him from his freedom.

"My Prince, where are you going? Why have you forsaken me?"

Ryou opens his mouth, ready to ask what the being means by "forsaken". But, he is too slow and is struck down by a grayish ball.

The angel quickly puts up a defensive shield, sufficiently deflecting the incoming bolt.

The shield lights up an electric blue as more and more energy is poured into it. Smaller orbs of energy are shot at the shield, but dissipate on contact. After a moment, the shots cease. Ryou, taking the opening, breaks his shield into two, sending each half in the general direction the bolts had come from.

He forms a smaller, mobile shield, before charging off in the same direction behind his original shield.

The grass is damp beneath him. His shoes making loud squelching sounds, making him easier to detect. His steps must be careful, for any misstep could send him to the ground, leaving him an easy target. But this doesn't matter; he needs answers and he sure is going to get them.

"Watch yourself, little angel," the voice calls once again. A snapping sound rings throughout the area and then a loud 'swoosh' as something soars through the air. Ryou quickly raises his shield to cover his face, just as several knives fly into the blue barrier. Ryou watches as the weapons fall to the ground harmlessly.

"Knives?" The angel questions. Knives wouldn't have the power to cause him much harm. Sure, they would hurt and leave scars, but it's nothing permanent.

"Yes, when doused with the right toxins, they can prove quite deadly to an angel."

Ryou jumps when he hears the cool voice behind him. The boy whips around to come face to face with the owner of said voice.

Cold blue eyes glare into horrified brown ones, and Ryou backs away cautiously.

"I would ask if you remember me, but from the look on your face I think you do." The woman swings at Ryou, knocking the boy back to the ground. "You know, I worked really hard to get into the former King's good graces. I had to sell my soul. To do what, suck his ungrateful son's cock. That's not how it works, sweetie!"

Ryou throws stray energy arrows at the woman, hoping to slow her down or back her up. But it is for naught as she bats them away with a careless swipe of her hand.

"I'll never understand why he'd fall for someone as pathetic as you. An angel of all things, how sickening." She tries to stomp on him, only to find her foot stopped by a shield.

"These are getting pretty annoying. Do you know how to do anything else?" Iona sasses.

Ryou doesn't respond, his focus on the shield protecting him. He moves his left hand further left, flicking out his pointer finger. From the shield, a strand of energy extends, coiling itself around Iona's leg. Another flick of his finger sends the half'n'half tumbling to the ground.

Ryou is quick to his feet, dashing into the woods before him. The amount of times he has found himself in these exact same woods, dodging trees in the hopes of surviving, seems innumerable. But now, all he can hope is that he has memorized the erratic placement of the trees.

A series of loud cracks alert the angel to the incoming woman, followed by a knife sailing by his head and embedding itself into one of the many trees with a thud.

But where is there to go; who can he call for help at a time like this? Another knife flies past him, this one disappearing somewhere in a bush. The boy hastily throws a ball of energy behind him, but there is no scream or break in her pace; he had missed.

There is no time to ruminate as the boy heads into a clearing up ahead, taking a sharp left before continuing back into the woods.

When he hears the heavy footfalls of the half'n'half, the boy gives an exasperated sigh. He had been hoping to lose her, or at least gain a little time to regroup his thoughts. The boy frantically tries to push on, but his body can't handle the strain. Even he, an all-powerful being could get tired. Especially with all the injuries he had recently sustained; the angel's body isn't as strong as it used to be.

Another knife flies by, this one skinning his shoulder. Red appears in the angel's vision, but he ignores it, pressing on into the forest. In the distance he sees the camp, Angels battling with half'n'halfs. He notes the darkened and soiled wings of angels, those who had killed and lost their purity.

The boy pushes on, trying to make it into the opening. But suddenly, the angels in the distance turn into blobs, then blurs. The trees ahead start to bend, then dance. Are they reaching out for him? The edge of his vision is eaten away, and his limbs act more like dead weight than actual parts of his body. The boy tries to push on, he needs to get away from her. But his body no longer wishes to listen, or to function, and the boy hits the ground.

"Hmm, not enough to kill you. But then again, what's the fun in just killing you?" The words seem a millennia away as everything fades to black.

~.~

"That doesn't explain anything." Marik hisses, staring at the Demon King.

"It wasn't supposed to." Bakura responds, watching as two pieces move across the board. "Ryou's in trouble."

"Are you finally going to help him?" Marik asks sarcastically, looking at the board over the King's shoulder.

"He's down." Bakura mumbles, watching as the piece tips over.

"Isn't that a surrender in chess?" Marik questions.

Bakura looks between where the piece has fallen and the side of the board. He doesn't say anything, waiting for the piece to disappear, but it doesn't.

"C'mon." Bakura growls, abruptly standing from his seat.

"Where are we going?" Marik questions.

"To war."

Author's Notes:

Thanks for sticking with me for so long, hopefully I can finish this story soon.

Review? Tell me how pissed you are about this chapter? How was my "fight" scene? Anything else you wish to yell at me about…