"You can call us demons crude, and lawless- but at least we're honest with ourselves. We don't hide behind invisible 'cloaks' and pretend that we're all oh-so-perfect and vainglorious. We embrace the desires and habits that make us who we are, and we do not spend our days writing down pompous laws to limit the freedoms of others."

But the small cherub was silent. The horrors of facing a wraith, combined with the upheaval of his world views... it was too much.

He stopped marching, instead just standing on the stone path, staring blankly ahead.

"I... I no longer know what to think, what to do..." The stunned angel turned his gaze towards the ground, his disbelief growing. "I thought I was doing everything for the better, for good... but what if I'm wrong? What if I've been misled my entire life?"

The other white-haired being frowned, and he turned to face the astonished cherub.

Bakura felt his shoulders tensing as he wondered what to say. It wasn't often that he encountered a foreign being suffering from an existential crisis.

But to his surprise, the demonic warrior soon found that he didn't need to say anything at all.

"I used to think that being so 'different' was bad..." the Upperlander pondered softly for a moment, "...that acting so... opposite from the way we angels do, made your kind 'evil.' That you sought to differ yourselves from us as a means out of rebellion, or even inability to do better."

Bakura made to interrupt, but the cloud-kisser kept talking. "But in a lot of ways, you really are far more advanced than we feathered beings." The demon blinked as the angel continued. "You have accepted the many truths of love, despite our being reassured of your inability to do more than hate. You encourage more individual freedom and happiness, but that does not mean you live in complete chaos without order... I mean, everything here is strange, but certainly not... uncivilized." He glanced back at his guard and sighed. "Thank you."

"Eh?!" Bakura felt himself reeling from the lighter being's unexpected self-revelation on their polar ideologies. "Are you being possessed by a second wraith or something?! You're acting like you've gone mad!"

Ryou gave a faint chuckle and wiped one sleeve over his eyes. "I don't think I have, but it's like the old riddle says: 'Does a fish know he is wet?'"

The guard raised an eyebrow, wondering if they were still speaking the common tongue. "What?"
Another chuckle escaped the angel's lips. "It's a Upperlander saying. It basically means: if you're completely used to something, do you ever really notice it? In other words, if I have truly gone mad, would I know it?"

"Ah, like the phrase, 'only the hellhound knows.'"

The angel just gave him a quizzical look.

"You know, when a hellhound starts scratching himself, and you can't tell if he has fleas, or just an itch?"

"Ah, I think I see..."

"Yeah..."

The pair waited, neither quite sure what to say after such an open change of heart.

Ryou finally broke the silence with a shy declaration. "By the way, you used my name earlier, for the first time..."

"Tch." The guard waved a single hand in irritation, as though brushing away a fly. "I thought the situation warranted it. You hadn't given permission yet, but considering the foe we were facing, I figured who gives a-'"

"Wait, permission?!" Ryou paused for a moment before realizing the full weight of what was just said.

"Yes, demons consider it highly offensive to call someone by their name, unless they are either of higher rank, related, or have an insinuated permission (such as old friends or colleagues)."

"Oh!" The cherub's soft cheeks turned crimson as he realized his ongoing error. "And yet I've been using yours all the time- I'm so sorry, I didn't- wait, why didn't you say something?!"

"I thought you were trying to p*ss me off, at first. Then I realized just how clueless you really are."

"Hey!"

But Bakura only chuckled. "It's fine. Honestly, you and Marik are the only ones who can call me in such an informal way- well, along with the king and his *sswipe advisor- but that's more of a 'rank' thing."

"Ah- in Upperlands culture, it's the opposite- to deny someone their name is to deny their identity and presence. It is insulting to know someone's name and NOT address them in that manner-!"

The crimson-eyed guard snorted. "And you think we demons do things in an opposite manner? How on Earth do you show rank and respect when everyone's on the same casual basis?!"

"Well, we do use titles, but it's generally expected that the name should be attached directly afterwards- such as 'King Yugi' or 'Ambassador Hiroku.'"

"So needlessly complicated..." The angel's protector glanced around at the darkening landscape. "We should start walking again, before we lose all natural light."

The cherub took a step forward, but then stopped. His gaze was distracted, still glancing at the tattered cloth still clutched in Bakura's right hand. "Um, regarding that piece of seraph robe... if it is truly important to you... as definitive proof of our victory over the cursed enemy; I suppose you should take it back."

Bakura glanced down at the faded remnant and paused. After what he'd seen, he couldn't exactly justify taking a piece of a tortured soul's remains for his own glory. Instead, he let the fraying piece fall back to the ground. He gave the bewildered angel a faint smirk as he shook his head "Nah. That wasn't exactly a fair and honorable battle."
"Oh! And, for your proof-?" The smaller fighter prompted.

"King Yami will have my personal word as proof- he can take it, or else he can kiss my *ss."

The completely stunned look on the other's face soon brought the fiend to near tears, as he quickly realized the latter saying was evidently NOT shared by angelic speech. Though he was highly tempted to not clue the shocked foreigner in, Bakura did eventually explain the nature of the phrase as they made their way back to the stone fortress.

A short while later, the pair were standing in front of the demon king's throne. King Yami was speaking with a bluish-skinned demon, and Ryou recognized him as one of the kitchen staff members.

"My apologies for the delay." The murky shadows seemed to turn as the king's attention shifted back to the white-haired pair. "I have already gotten word of your victory- a set of trainees on a nearby mountain witnessed the last part of the banishment. Your courage and diplomacy were truly unparalleled."

Ryou felt his face heating up at such high praise- from an Underlands KING, no less!- when he realized that the monarch didn't know the whole story. "Thank you, your highness- but while I did say a prayer to (hopefully) guide the spirit to peace, I would like to respectfully request that you reconsider any further training or excursions near that site for at least a fortnight."

"Hmm... that area is quite harsh and mountainous- I see no reason why our warriors could not comply with such a rule." The darkly clouded figure snapped his fingers, and one of the guards standing alongside the throne stepped forward. "Natsuga! I trust you'll carry that message to the camp immediately?"

"Yes, my lord; I shall fly out immediately." The orange-haired guard nodded firmly before making his way towards the main hall.

The hidden figure seemed to nod once. "Good. Now that that's settled, we can move onto more... optimistic matters."

Both the angel and his guardian glanced at the monarch in confusion. "Er, your highness?"

There was a faint chuckle from the throne seat area. "I have been making plans with all the chefs- we are arranging a grand feast, both to mourn the lost cadet and to celebrate the vanquishing of the wraith."

Here the shadowy figure leaned forwards in a deliberate attempt at speaking towards the angel. "And I would like you to attend as my guest of honor."

"W-w-what?! Oh!" Ryou let out a nervous squeak. He'd gone over many of the archives in the Upperlands library, and he knew this was highly unorthodox. "Are- are you sure- I mean, is that really alright, your majesty?"

"It's weird." The other guard interjected loudly. "Normally, they'd use such a victory feast as an excuse to torture any captured prisoners of the war in front of every- MHPTH!"

The second guard's words were promptly cut off by Bakura's hand, but Ryou caught enough to get the gist. The cherub looked faint as he realized what the 'past entertainment' must have been at those demonic feasts. "O-oh..." His stomach began churning, and he struggled not to pass out as his mind drifted to his past-tortured brethren.

'That utter moron- that crowned fool finally does something useful, and convinces the little 'prisoner' to rejoin the banquet hall, and then he had to open his damned mouth!' Bakura let go of his comrade's mug and shot him a sideways look of loathing. "I think what my in-eloquent colleague is trying to say, is that your presence will break precedent; but as it has been sanctioned by the king himself, it is a legitimate and well-deserved honor."

The color rushed back into the nervous angel's face, and he seemed a bit dizzy as he replied, "Wow..."

He gave a low bow, careful not to lose his balance as he sank to one knee. "In that case, I cordially accept, your highness."

"Good. We shall begin the festivities at sundown tomorrow." The king's voice dropped as he seemed to reach towards the angel for a second time. "And again, my sincere gratitude for your knowledge and practical contributions. No doubt you have saved more young lives by dispelling such an unpredictable antagonist. You deserve this honor."

Ryou gave a single nod, his face set in a determined look. 'I hope I can manage such a banquet without any slip-ups!'

Despite the sovereign's words of high praise, Bakura was still eager to leave the throne room. The impatient fiend wasted no time in ushering his charge out into the hall after the king finally finished his speech.

King Yami felt a faint smirk growing on his face- the impertinence of Bakura was always a constant source of ire and entertainment. Which reminded him of the other guards still in the room...

The dark figure waved one clouded hand. "You may all go and rest. I will retire to my chambers shortly." The demonic ruler instructed the various warriors standing around the throne. Each one gave a bow towards the monarch before departing. Yet the fiendish leader barely had a moment of silence before there was a sound from somewhere behind him.

A tall, brunette demon suddenly slipped onto the ornate dais from behind a red velvet wall-hanging. Being the personal advisor to the king, he no doubt had permission to use the hidden tunnels running through the castle walls.

"I heard about the feast. This could be seen as tantamount to treason." Seto warned darkly. "There are already rumors floating about that you've 'gone soft'."

"If keeping our people's heads attached to their bodies is 'going soft', then yes; I suppose I have." The king retorted dryly. "I see no reason to continue a pointless war that managed to last nearly a hundred years with no true victor emerging. To intentionally re-ignite that flame would be a fool's errand- and I am sure the angel's young king has no desire to see his own people perishing without cause, either."

"Hm." The advisor said nothing further, but his eyes narrowed in deep reflection.