AN:

This idea came from a really weird dream I had once, though it was completely unrelated to Yu-Gi-Oh. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway. This has some fluff in it, as well as hugging and kissing, and it does have some BronzeShipping. Anyway, I hope you like reading the story of this, and feel free to leave a review below. This involves BronzeShipping, and though Bakura and Marik are close friends there isn't any ThiefShipping, sorry.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Yu-Gi-Oh. This is a non profit fan made fan fiction.

Please enjoy.

END AN

Phase 01: Shadow Mine

Marik had always had the same dream. It always scared him on some deep level that he could never quite understand. When he was younger he had thought it more than that, a dream. But now he was ten, and he had just finished the Tomb Keeper's Rite of Passage. He was bound to serve the three Egyptian gods that were carved into his back, along with the runes of a long forgotten prophecy. Marik had learned of it, but he preferred to think he hadn't. It was a terrible thing to ever imagine happening at all. The child twitched painfully in his sleep, under the ever worried and watchful eyes of his adopted older brother Odion. Odion watched on as the boy whimpered pitifully and attempted to sleep. But there was little he could do.

He knew where he was, though he'd never been outside the tomb. It was Egypt, where the boy had lived his entire life. There were four figures running through the sands, towards a dark and foreboding mountain. Marik didn't want to go there, but seeing as he was seeing through the eyes of one of the strangers he couldn't exactly not go there. He was reliving memories, as if this were himself. Sights and sounds came to him clearly, though he could feel nothing and only watch on with half his senses, strangely deadened to the world.

To the front of the group was a young man. He was handsome, and though Marik knew, as dreamers know, that the man was younger than him by a year or so, he watched the man with awe and respect. He had a magnificent mane of hair, spiked up like some great crown, black but rimmed with red and gold. His eyes were fierce and grim as he looked straight ahead, the brightly burning violet orbs had only one destination for him. He was lightly tanned, and was leaning into the horse's stride, willing the white charger to surge forward even faster. He was adorned in gold, speaking of a high bearing, and around his neck was the Millennium Puzzle, an upside down pyramid that hung by a cord around his neck with a single gleaming eye in its center. On his wrist was a strange golden gauntlet, which he held back, only keeping some great beast's wrath behind him in check.

The dreamer's eyes turned to look towards another, about side by side with him. It was another young man. This one was not so richly decorated, though still obviously of some high class. He wore a royal blue robe, and carried a small rod in his hand, a golden thing with blades on its side and the same style of eye. He had brown hair, that was mostly hidden under his hat, and bright blue eyes. He looked at Marik, and his eyes softened just a little. Trust maybe? This man was also a little younger than him, though he looked the oldest and stood the tallest. He also was holding something back with the same kind of gantlet. It was obvious though that the creatures wanted forward. The brown haired young man's eyes traveled behind him suddenly, and his eyes grew sharp with anger, hatred even. His horse was brown.

Marik knew what he looked like, the same as he did now. He would have had caramel colored skin, a deep and healthy brown color. His eyes would be a striking lavender color, leaping out brightly against the color of his skin. His body would be well toned for his age (whatever that really was in the dream) and he would be about average height, though slightly taller. His hair would be a silver blonde color, framing his face and looking strangely light for his skin, but not unpleasant to look at. The boy could even imagine that he had the same eyeliner on his face. The clinking of metal told him that he too was of some higher class. In one hand he held a set of scales, beautifully ornate things full of craftsmanship but simple as well. He knew it held power. These he could use to judge a person's sins. The other was outstretched, also holding something back. His horse was a dappled gray.

The dreamer's eyes turned to look behind him. The first thing that commanded his view were the three Egyptian gods. Slightly to the lead was Slifer, the Sky Dragon. It was red and had two mouths, one gaping open in rage, its yellow eyes glowing menacingly. It was a long red dragon, slightly coiled even in the air and sliding through it rather than flying. This was being controlled by the man in the front. To the left of it was Obelisk the Tormentor. The creature was a huge blue monster, fangs slightly open and fists clinched with fury. It was running along behind them and causing the very desert to shift with his booming steps. This beast was controlled by the man with brown hair. Then behind him was the great golden dragon, almost resembling a bird but golden in color and just as smooth. Great wings loomed out behind it, though they also did not move. Its beak was open, roaring silently with anger. This was the huge and powerful Winged Dragon of Ra. The creature's red eyes met his a moment, begging him to go faster. He nodded, though he could push the poor horse no faster. It would die if he did.

Then he noticed the young man behind them all, watching them warily. This was what had warranted the brown haired man's death glare. He was a thief, and an outsider. But he had come to help them on their strange quest. He was by far the oldest, and it showed on his face. He looked older than he should have. He had long and bushy white hair and blue eyes. On his right cheek was a long scar. He ran the black horse as fast as he dared after them, watching the gods carefully. He was obviously nervous, and though he had the same device on his arm, he had summoned no monsters. Marik felt his eyes shift back towards the brown haired individual. He began to speak in Ancient Egyptian, but Marik found that he understood him.

"Leave him be Seto," the man that was him addressed the man quiet enough that the man behind him couldn't hear. "He has not betrayed us. Even Ra said that he sensed no ill will from him, and you know how hard it is to get Ra to trust anyone." Seto looked towards him.

"I cannot," he growled. "I am sorry Marik, but I cannot." that had always surprised Marik a little. Why were their names the same? "He is little more than a thief. And more than that! He is the Thief King Bakura! We should never have let him come."

"He is the only one else who knows how to open those accursed gates," Marik said. "He will not betray us. Have faith." then he chuckled a little. "You would think a priest would have more faith."

"I still cannot understand why the Pharoh would allow him to come with us," the priest said, eyes flashing a little with anger at the thought of the betrayal his friend might face. Yes, the man in front of them was a Pharaoh, but none that Marik had ever heard the name of. It was the same Pharaoh whose tomb he was keeper of now. The unnamed Pharaoh. "You understand Marik. You are the head of the palace guard."

"I do," Marik replied. "But I trust in the judgment of our king. My lord," this is where there was a jumbled mess of sounds that Marik could never make out. Marik had said the name of the Pharaoh, but it never made sense to him. "We are approaching now. Should we not slow the horses and leave them outside? Brave as we may be, I do not think they will consent to let us take them through the gates. There is much darkness there."

The man towards the front glanced back at him, and then slowly nodded. They all knew that the poor horses were already shaking, out of fear and fatigue. They would not be able to bring themselves closer to that place. Loyal beasts though they were, they knew they were going to certain death, and so they didn't want to bring that same fate upon the animals. At last, the Pharaoh called for the halt and they let the horses stop, leaping off. Bakura stopped farther back as the three of them leaped up onto the backs or shoulders of the Egyptian gods they commanded. Instantly Marik turned towards the other man, and held out his hand.

"Bakura come," Marik called.

Seto didn't seem to like that idea much either. It was obvious that he was fond of both young men. Marik alone however could see the momentary flash of relief and gratefulness within the eyes of the white haired man. It was obvious that there was something more between the two of them, and somehow they had become friends. The golden god of Ra obviously approved, and reached his hand towards the young man as Marik had done. The Thief King leaped up to the beast's other shoulder, glancing over at Marik, before looking forward again. Seto's death glare told him that if he put so much as a single scratch on Marik or the Pharaoh that he was going to destroy him and let Obelisk live up to his name.

The two gods took to the sky, and Obelisk broke out again into a run. They traveled much faster now, and there was nothing holding them back except for the occasional fear of dropping their riders. Now they traveled much faster and went on towards the black mountain. Marik could see now that it was no mountain at all, but rather, a huge fortress, crude in design and full of malice. Marik didn't want to go there, but somehow he knew that he had to go there.

"We approach," came the voice of the Pharaoh, a voice that he would know instantly if he heard it. It was strong and spoke of power, deeper and richer than what seemed should have come from that body. But it was a voice that made Marik's sleeping form shiver a little. Not out of fear, but instead out of relief, as if he had been waiting forever to hear it. "Stay on your guard. This is the domain of Zorc now. We will have to tread lightly."

"We will follow you, my lord," Seto said, glancing at Bakura and letting him know once again that he didn't approve of him, which Bakura ignored.

"You have my loyalty," Marik replied. "As you have always had."

"I will help you," Bakura replied simply. "I owe as much."

Marik knew without looking or seeing that Seto would be murmuring something about him owing much more than that. But this wasn't a time to bicker. They had to keep going and remain united. There was no way that they could hope to prevail if they did not. That was the only reason that Seto seemed to be putting up with the Thief King at all. But Bakura didn't mind. There was only one person here whose loyalty he truly held in his heart. It was Marik, and there was a simple reason for that.

He had nearly been killed, only to be saved by him and his Egyptian god. He quickly put his thieving talents to good use, and their army and their expeditions excelled at everything they did. Seto had protested, saying that there was no way he could ever reform. The Pharaoh had trusted Marik enough to let him do as he saw fit. Bakura disliked the Pharaoh because his father had murdered his whole family for no reason, and he despised Seto because he hated him because of fear. But to Marik he would give his very soul to at his word. The man had no only saved his life, but shown him the only friendship he had ever known.

You see, Bakura didn't know it then, but he was a kleptomaniac. He HAD to steal things. It was written in his very DNA. The ancients of course, had no name for this, and called him a lowly thief, not realizing that there was a perfectly natural, if somewhat peculiar explanation behind it. He had gotten good at his thieving, quick and agile. And he was oddly good at it to, so that he had been named the Thief King. People had always hated him for it, thinking he was evil, so he had grown hardened and bitter. When he had been caught by the Palace guard, he had thought he was going to die. But Marik quickly came to his rescue, and to his utter surprise had welcomed him.

Marik had a strange way of using everyone's talents to the best of their ability, and Bakura's ability to get even a large number of people anywhere nearly completely unseen was effortless and had helped them many times. He helped in other ways as well, and though he often stole from Marik because he could not help it, the man pretended not to notice and looked the other way. It was if somehow he had understood that this was nothing the man could help about himself. The head of the Palace Guard was also a rather friendly man, and so he had managed to melt through even Bakura's stone heart. That friendly and trusting nature is why Seto was so determined that Bakura wasn't going to harm Marik. But that was also the reason Bakura was willing to give everything to him.

How of course the dreamer knew all of this information was beyond him. Before when he had seen the dream it had only been the raw details, watching and hearing. But now he could tell thoughts, at least those that the memories could assess and bring forward. It was if he truly were reliving old memories, from a time that was obviously a long time ago. They were growing stronger, and Marik could only imagine what it could mean.

They had reached the terrible black gates at last, huge slabs of stone that were inscribed in runes that Marik couldn't decipher, but knew he didn't particularly want to. They spoke of cruelty, darkness and death. The three gods stopped, standing before the great gate and staring intently. Slowly, Ra lowered Bakura, who nervously but expertly gave the area a critical eye. He saw no signs of an ambush or danger, so quietly he walked to the great door, where a giant puzzle held the ancient locks in place. It was again locked, and it seemed to make no sense to the three men or even the gods who watched on. But Bakura knew the pattern and quickly began rearranging the slots so that they took on the shape that he knew they must take.

Carefully then he stepped back, watching with a little pleasure and also fear as the terrible gates clacked and creaked and then swung open. They all tensed, as if they suspected the god of darkness to suddenly leap from the shadows and attack them right then and there. But the halls were suspiciously quiet and deserted, as if nothing had moved within for the countless centuries that it had been sealed. Marik called, and Bakura quickly returned to the golden god, leaping back up to the dragon's shoulder and watching carefully. After a long moment of silence, the Pharaoh and his Egyptian god went forward, then the priest and his. Following up the rear came the thief and the guard on the golden god.

Within the halls however, they realized it was no deserted or without protection. As soon as the door clanged shut and began to relock itself, they all gasped and found that they were separated from the others. Marik, Ra, and Bakura now seemed all alone in a hallway. Startled cries from elsewhere alerted them that the same had happened with Obelisk and Seto, and Slifer and the Pharaoh.

"Where are you?" Seto cried.

"I am unhurt," the Pharaoh replied, though they had to yell because there seemed to be some distance between them. "Though I have no idea where I am. This is not the same hall." Indeed, none of them were where they had began. Marik and Bakura both looked around nervously and noticed the hieroglyphics drawn along the walls seemed to pulse with energy.

"Marik?" Seto called, seeming nervous that he had yet to reply.

"We are fine," Marik called back. "Bakura and I are still here with Ra. It seems it was a spell meant to separate the gods, and so it also separated us."

"That seems to be the case," the Pharaoh said. "That does make sense. Someone knew we were coming, and they prepared."

"We should keep going," Bakura called. "There is nothing we can do until we find each other or Zorc. Let us hope we can escape farther tricks."

No one had any better ideas, so before long they disappeared into the silence that surrounded them, letting the halls lead them where they would. There was little else to be done. They didn't call to each other, afraid of awakening whatever darkness was present in these halls. Ra kept Bakura and Marik carefully on his shoulders, not allowing them to touch the ground at all. It was as if the god feared the very floors and walls of this place. As it was the creature had to be very careful that his wings didn't brush the walls of the halls as he went along.

"Why are you so nervous?" Marik asked. Then came something that had always terrified and calmed Marik some how at the same time as he dreamed.

This place is evil young one, came the reply, a voice that was deep, terrible, sad, full of joy, and angry all at the same time. It was the voice of an ancient creature. I would not let you walk here. There is much darkness within these walls.

Marik looked away, though he noticed Bakura look at him nervously. He could not hear the voice of the god, but that man had always been so strangely loyal to him. The sleeping boy shuddered a little again, feeling the very evil through the air, though he was safe and many long years separated him and the dream. He couldn't deny that he was terrified of what he might find there, as if he was seeing and doing all of this himself.

Slowly they made their way down the halls. Marik seemed nervous, and Bakura was even more so. He knew that this separation couldn't be the only trap that they would face. He had robbed too many tombs and royal palaces to think that one trap would be all that there was. The fact that they had encountered no others made the thief very nervous. He looked around with a carefully trained eye, but he was unable to see anything. Until a brief flash of purple alerted him that they had very little time at all before the trap was sprung.

"Marik," Bakura gasped.

Within seconds he had leaped across the god's shoulders and grabbed the surprised and confused guard, leaping away. Ra too had realized what was going on, and had turned to protect the two men from most of the attack. It almost seemed to his eyes that purple lightening sparked to life out of the walls. The god writhed in agony and thrashed, crashing into the walls and the ceiling, narrowly missing the two young men with his tail. Two other sounds of the same crashing and roaring alerted them that the traps had been sprung onto the others as well.

The god hadn't blocked all of the attack though, and the two men gasped. But Bakura again leaped forward to protect Marik, keeping him from being hurt. Marik tried to call him back, but some of the ceiling was dislodged by the god's thrashing, and it crashed down on top of them. For the third and last time, Bakura saved Marik from certain death that day.

For a while the scene was confused and the dreamer could make nothing out. With some time however the scene righted itself, and Marik felt such great horror and sorrow though he had never met the man and probably never would. The horror the other him felt was much greater though. Obviously hurt, he struggled to run over to the white haired man, that had pushed him away and saved him from being killed. Marik's arms were bleeding, his head swam, but Bakura was dying. There was no way to deny that. He knelt and laid his hand on Bakura's shoulder. The thief's glazed blue eyes met his.

"B-Bakura?" Marik asked. "Why?" for a minute, the white haired man struggled to answer.

"Because," he said. "you saved my life before, and I owed you. You were the only one that showed me that I could be more than just a useless thief. I had no way to help stop Zorc anyway. The other two just saw me little more than a means to open the gates. They do not care that I am dying. But you must live and stop him. We all know what will be lost if you do not."

Marik could only stare in horror at his friend as he watched him helplessly, unable to help. The trap was dying down, but he was hardly aware of that. The Pharaoh and Seto were calling to Marik, trying to figure out what was going on. They had heard Bakura call out his name in terror. Marik couldn't respond. He was covered in blood, but mostly it wasn't his own. It was Bakura's. At last, the man leaned down and laid a gentle kiss on the man's forehead. He would not cry. He had seen too much as a palace guard to cry. He was filled with sorrow, but he would not cry. Instead, he felt a rage building in him. The injured god sensed it as well and turned to look. Through their mental link Marik could feel rage rising within the god.

"Sleep then," Marik told the thief quietly. "And wait for me. I will most likely be joining you soon. Travel well to the final judgment, and may your sins be washed clean because of this selfless act. Perhaps there is hope for you yet. I know there is."

The words seemed to comfort the thief. This was obviously something that seemed to have been troubling him for a long time. For a while more the guard and the god sat there quietly, watching until the man died. Marik was silent, still not answering. But he could not bring himself to speak. How could life be taken away so easily? He felt a rage boiling through him. More than his own rage, the rage of the wrathful god of Ra washed over him.

The god suddenly raised his head, let out a loud bird like screech. Over and over again it made the sound, flapping its wings and slapping its tail into the ground. Elsewhere Marik knew that Seto and the Pharaoh could hear the creature's rage and would grow even more afraid. The god however also began to speak, and the other gods could hear what he was crying though the humans would not, because they did not share the mental link with this god. However he was certain that their own gods would tell him what he said.

Murderer, the terrible voice cried. Villain! Fiend! You will die for this!

Marik looked up, only able to fuel the rage of the god. He knew it was dangerous, but he felt so utterly helpless and weak. He had only one power to offer. It could eventually kill him, but they had a strong chance of dying against Zorc anyway. It was dangerous, but the wrath of the god and his own sorrow had overridden his thinking. He just knew that he would make Zorc pay. He reached his hand up to the god, touching its trashing knee. Understanding, the god went still suddenly and silent, and Marik poured all of his will into the god, giving him his anger as well.

Instantly the god's form began to change. No longer was he the soft sun that shone over the oasis. No longer was the kind god of the Pharaohs, ever watchful and patient. Now he was the sun beating relentlessly upon the desert, destroying crops and killing the livestock, making the people cry in weariness and pain. He was a wrathful god, though mostly patient. Usually when he got into moods like this Marik could calm him. But not now. Now the god's wrath had finally taken over the young man. His friends would be horrified and surprised to see the look of wrath upon the face of their young friend. How changed he seemed!

The god's form changed to that of a great bird, looking much like a phoenix. His body slimmed and no longer shone, but seemed made out of living flame. His tail grew long and his wings longer still. The air seemed charged and Marik's skin burned from being so close. To get back onto the god's shoulder would mean that he would die, no doubt about that. So he stood instead, and began to walk down the hall again. He had only one destination in mind, the end of the hall.

Ra followed, bubbling with energy and anger. He would explode soon if he did not get to vent his rage against Zorc. Marik's arms were held loosely at his sides. He wasn't even trying to hold the god back now. His rage was the man's rage as well. It seared across their mental link, and if any of the others felt it, they would have instantly understood why Marik could no longer withstand the wrath and hold the god back. There was a searing hatred there, and in his sorrow he had given into it at last.

They reached the end of the hall. Marik barely registered as the others appeared out of the mouths of the other two tunnels that were nearby. He hardly understood that they gasped and called to him, pleading with him to calm the god, or that the other gods approached cautiously. Obelisk make the sound of two rocks shifting slightly during an earthquake, and Slifer made a quiet cat like mewling sound. They were appealing again to the boy. Marik was the only one that could bring Ra again under control. His wrath would be terrible and could destroy much. It was too dangerous to allow the god of Ra to be in such a reckless rage.

The next part became harder to decipher, and words were nearly impossible to make out. Whether it was because he had been blind with rage, or because of the curse of Zorc, the boy could hardly make out what they were saying or doing, as if something were trying their hardest to halt the memories completely. However, Slifer decided that perhaps giving the boy some space from the god could calm him and let him regain his senses enough to talk to the god and calm him. Carefully he snatched the boy up and brought him away from the god. That both served to make the wrathful god feel relieved and also more angry. But that anger was directed towards Zorc alone.

The giant red dragon circled the boy, keeping him firmly away from the golden god, and Obelsik watched Ra carefully. The other two men concluded sadly that the god's rage was because Bakura had died. It was obvious because their number had been depleted by one. But they were also terrified. They had never seen such a terrible wrath in the god! He had always been a good judge of character, and he had taken a special interest in the Thief King. They knew then that there was something rather special about the young man, and the god was taking his loss hard.

Slifer turned instead to the boy, looking at him pointedly and in the face. His great mouths were closed though, and he made a deep purring noise to the boy, assuring him that everything was alright. The Pharaoh and priest too were assuring him with words, trying to calm him. They told him that there would be a time to mourn, but this was not that time. Marik could hear the wisdom in their words and tried to talk to the god, but found his way blocked by a wall of anger. It was painful and the guard grabbed his head with a yelp as again the god dived around the room, shrieking with rage and anger. The others could only watch on helplessly. It was obvious that the boy could not calm the god. His rage was too great.

Then Zorc appeared. The great god of darkness still terrified Marik and when he saw him he felt as if he had no hope within his heart. The god was almost man like in shape, but he stood larger than a pyramid and had horns and terrible teeth, along with claws and another head lower on his waist. His appearance made the gold god shriek in anger and circle more, but he dared not attack yet. He had not lost his caution yet. Zorc laughed at them and at Bakura's death, telling them that he was going to kill them all. The Pharaoh grabbed Marik's shoulders as if he would leap forward to defy the god. Ra however had finally had enough.

With a shriek of rage unlike any other they had ever heard he dived towards the enormous god. Zorc swatted him away, but again and again the god dove with the same results. He wasn't just going to give up though, and called to the two other gods. They at last knew too that they had to join the battle or watch the world crumble.

Zorc had been unprepared for the sun god's wrath and tenacity, thinking that the gentler Marik would hold him back. But Marik could and honestly would have done no such thing. He was just as angry with Zorc, and he felt a terrible satisfaction at watching the god become increasingly worried about the attacks of the fiery god of Ra. Obelisk and Slifer then joined the attack as well, and Zorc was surprised to find that he was losing ground. Try as hard as he might, he could do nothing against the other two, not while Ra's invincible form kept diving at him again and again. The fire of rage that surrounded his body made sure that the dark god could do nothing against him. He was forced to take injury and cause none. He didn't dare try and attack the humans either. Even if he did kill them, the gods had been summoned, and that would only serve to make Ra angrier. He didn't need that.

The humans could only watch as the battle took place, and Marik knew his strength was draining alarmingly fast. He couldn't keep fighting through the god. He would die if he let this continue. He soon collapsed, and though the Pharaoh caught him and called a warning to Ra, he paid no heed. He was going to destroy Zorc and that was that.

Quickly the humans knew they had to act, or Marik would die and very soon. They prepared the seal they needed to seal Zorc away until someone else could destroy him. They cast the spell, and with the help of the much smaller gods they managed to herd Zorc to where his soul could be sealed. Even Ra stopped his attack then, pouring all of his strength into the seal so that Zorc could not escape. But as the seal was finishing, Zorc began to use a spell of his own, casting it over the humans.

Marik could never make out what being said, even dreaming, but he knew the curse. It was part of what had been inscribed onto his back, at the top. Under it was the prophecy. This was why he was a tomb keeper, deep underground. Because he was hiding and keeping safe the secrets of 5000 years. He always awoke at this part, when his other self vowed to never forget even though the spell should have wiped his memories until he was reborn, and then it should have taken longer for the spell to lift so he could remember.

Suddenly though, the dream changed. Marik felt scared, having no clue what was going on. He'd never seen this before. Suddenly he was in a room with three thrones, and another was behind it, taller and grander than the others. A golden light sat hovering in the center throne of the three smaller ones, and then suddenly it began to zoom around the room. It flew right through Marik's chest, and the startled ten year old yelped. But it didn't hurt. It was a warm touch, gentle even.

He felt a presence roar forth in his mind like fire, and he became afraid. But the mind was gentle and patient and soothed away his fears. Slowly the boy calmed and quieted, though he was still unsure of what was going on. He looked around fearfully, and a voice suddenly spoke.

Here we are again, a terrible voice said. Young Marik.

"Wh-who are you?" Marik asked, surprised. "Where are you?"

Have you not recognized my voice through those memories? The voice asked. They are indeed memories, of your past life. I cannot show myself until you name me. You know me young Marik, but now you must summon me to your mind.

For a while Marik was silent. He couldn't think of anything. Not until suddenly he thought of the dream, and the wrath of the god of the sun. Suddenly he grew terrified. He had been sworn to serve the gods, and that's what he was going to do. But the thought of talking to one terrified him. Again the god calmed him quietly with his mind.

"Y-you're Ra," the boy gasped.

Upon speaking the name, the golden ball zoomed around the room again, then upwards in front of him. From out of that giant golden ball the giant golden dragon formed and slowly dropped down in front of the boy. His legs touched down, and he looked down at the boy. But then he started to make a fond purring noise at the boy and bent his great head down, looking the boy directly in his eyes. Marik froze a moment under those eyes, but there was patience there, and kindness. Slowly Marik reached forward, wondering if he was doing something wrong, and laid his hand on the great dragon's beak. The dragon made a contented purring noise, so Marik started stroking the smooth gold like surface. He was warm, not hot but warm enough to be alive definitely.

That calmed Marik greatly though he didn't understand really why. The god seemed pleased with this fact. In fact Marik could sense this from him through his mind. Marik was very confused and had no clue what was going on, but he wasn't scared anymore. For a while the god just stood there, letting the boy pet him, then he made another soft noise, almost like a chirp. They boy looked up into his eyes again, and he stopped. But his hand remained on the god's face.

It has been 5000 years young Marik, the god said. Too many years. I must apologize for allowing wrath to control me. It was necessary to defeat Zorc, but it was terrible too, and I should not have made you endure it.

"Why are you here though," Marik said, then added, "My lord?"

Please just call me Ra young one, the god said. It grows tiresome to hear lord all the time. But I have come because the time has come again for Zorc to return, and you must again help me, and to destroy him if we can. We once thought he was necessary to leave Zorc alive, only sealed away. However we have come to realize that the balance can be maintained without him.

"The balance?" Marik asked, confused.

Ah perhaps you are still too young, the god said. But you must prepare and leave. You must find him.

"Him?" Marik asked. "Who is he?"

You can sense the other mind too, can you not? The god asked. Marik paused. He hadn't sensed it because the god's presence blazed so brightly in his mind, but he could sense another mind, a darker mind, but a familiar one all the same.

"I can," Marik replied. "But who is it?"

It is your shadow, the god replied. Your other half. It is part of the curse, and your soul is split now into two bodies. One is, for the sake of explaining quickly, good and the other bad, though together you are much the same as you once were. Your darker side is searching for you. You won't be able to survive long without him. He is the balance you need. You must go and search for your shadow.

AN:

Kind of a weird place to end this chapter I know, but this chapter is already very long. I hope you enjoyed the read anyway and will continue to support me as I keep writing. I hope this makes sense so far or is at least fun to read.

Also keep in mind that this is an alternate story line, so it doesn't really matter about all the back story changes and things because it is not based off the original completely, only very loosely. Anyway, feel free to leave a review below and tell me how you think I did.