Recommended listening: Night Ride across the Caucasus by Loreena McKennitt

The Beginning

Oneshot

(Yugi's P.O.V.)

I had been working on it for years, so many long, agonizing years that I think I may have come to the realization that I might never figure it out. Golden pieces of an unknown enigma in my small hands, a mystery they say is not solvable, not even by the most trained of archaeologists, nor the most experienced conundrum decipherers. It was inconceivable that they should not find a way and then put it in the hands of a teenager and a young teenager at that. I am this adolescent.

I am the one who continues this puzzle, the only one who has worked on it for years, researching and failing every other turn, yet still pursuing the goal of this ancient Egyptian masterpiece. It truly is a masterpiece, for its secret to this enigma continues to elude me. It always seems like it has been one-step forward and two steps back, yet even if it is just a step forward, it counts for something.

I work on this puzzle alone. I have no friends to help me. I have no friends, period. I have always wanted a friend, at least one. Anzu has stuck by me since we were kids and we are good friends, but even with her, she sometimes avoids me and has not really been close to me anyway. It is only natural I suppose, that you grow out of friends when you get older. I was once told that it was that natural instinct of a human being to do such a thing. I guess Anzu does that for me, too. She was the closest thing to a friend and now I have no one but grandpa to keep me company. Not that grandpa's boring or anything; he is actually a lot of fun and he has taken care of me since my parents died. However, sometimes he is busy with the shop we have, it being a bit popular for its Duel Monsters cards. Yet, I continue to wish in vain for someone to befriend me.

I am picked on by taller kids at school, being the shortest in my high school class, and being alone all the time in class, at lunch, as well as after school when I walk home. I am at the blunt of some people's jokes, which really pull me down, but I try to act as if it does not faze me. I sometimes get frightened of the other kids at school, so I choose to keep my distance from them whenever I can. No one really wants me as a friend.

That is why I pursue the goal of this puzzle now. It's said, as my grandfather read, that whoever completes the puzzle of the Pharaoh would be granted one wish. My wish is for friends. Although I should not rely on just a simple legend, I still hope and am optimistic towards my seemingly unachievable goal.

It does not seem as unattainable as before, though. I have completed near half the puzzle. It seems to take the shape of an upside down pyramid the more I work on it. I wonder how the Egyptians were able to develop such a powerful conundrum, but according to grandpa, the puzzle was shattered. So maybe it was an accident that such a treasure was broken into the pieces now. Nevertheless, why would they give the legend of one wish should the finder of such a treasure complete the enigma? It was all very confusing.

I'm surprised I got farther than any other adult or archaeologist, when I alone am just a kid in high school. My heart still longs for the wish that is the one thing keeping me going on this mystery and the solution, which floats right in front of me, yet I cannot grasp it with my hands. It is as if I am trying to catch smoke, yet my prey slips through my fingers, just like the thick steam.

I sigh this night and sit back in my chair, putting my hands behind my head and looking up through my windowed ceiling. I was sometimes grateful for the skyline of which I could see clearly most nights. Other times, however, I wished I didn't have it. I may not admit it to most people, but I am frightened of thunderstorms, those loud, fiery thunderstorms that shake the house and instill fear into my heart. Grandpa doesn't mind them and I think he'd laugh at me if I go to him for comfort, so I remain by myself. It's my natural human compulsion to do so up to this point. I do not know when or even how that will ever change.

I feel like I'm putting this upon myself, but I know that's not true. I always think I sound depressing whenever I think too much about my life or remember something from my past. I wonder if it's possible to forget everything ever happened and just start over again. I know that's not possible, but I suppose that's my real wish to this puzzle.

I look back down to it. I had completed most of it, much to my relief. I looked inside the box to see there weren't very many pieces left. Sighing, I take one of the random pieces and try to fit it in a small, more less-completed corner. It fit perfectly. I smile, despite myself. It's a nice achievement for me, I admit. Taking more of the pieces now, and feeling more confident, I begin to work on this enigma again, gaining more courage as each new piece seems to slide into place; wherever I put it seems to be the right place. I suppose it's true when they say puzzles are easier to figure out once you have some of it done.

I nearly cry with sudden mirth as I realize I only have a few more pieces to go, but I stop myself as my cheek throbs and my head begins to hurt. I place my hand over the bruises. My warm hand only seems to make the pain worse, so I put it down after rubbing my bruises a few times. This came from beatings outside of school. They always hurt and once they heal, there are always new bruises to take their place. I honestly do not like it, but I don't think anyone would.

I fit one of three pieces into the puzzle and add the next one. The last piece, much bigger than the other ones, but not by much, was all that remained. It was the one to fit in the only slot hole left on this conundrum, the only piece that seemed to call out to me as I realized my goal was within reach and I could finally grasp it. I pick up the piece and look at it for a moment.

This piece was the one thing between me and my granted wish. Although most aren't keen on the idea of wishes coming true, I have believed in it for a very long time. The golden entity looks back at me and I mean it literally looked back at me. Engraved in the middle of this piece and soon to be in the middle of this captivating puzzle was an eye, a perfect Egyptian carved eye that held some mystery hidden deep within it, a mystery that I was soon to find out. Perhaps this was the eye that had been looking upon me all this time, just waiting to be put with its comrades in the puzzle and look unto the world, seeing who deserved the one wish it were to grant.

I picked up the puzzle and held it up next to the piece. I could see that it would be perfect alignment, a perfect match between quantity and achievement. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears as I felt exhilarated for the first time in my life as a teenager. I was so excited; I could see my hands were shaking slightly. I sighed to try and calm down before setting my eyes back upon my triumph and the one thing between it. Smiling a true smile for once and taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, took the piece and laid it gently at its slot, where it fell right through without my hand to urge it while at the same time silently asking my wish to the puzzle.

Suddenly, I feel a great power surging throughout the room, a power I had never felt before. It seemed to get colder, yet the cold wasn't like snow or ice. No, this cold was more welcoming and it floated around me. I didn't feel cold, even though I could now see my breath in front of my face as I let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. I shivered, regardless of my warmth, and I looked down at the puzzle in my hands, which was beginning to glow a beautiful golden color, protruding from the eye in the middle.

Then, as I watched with amazement, I saw a spirit, no, a person, following the golden light out of the puzzle and in no more than a second, he stood right in front of me. I gasped as I saw him open his eyes. Those eyes, a deep, alluring crimson color tinted with an amethyst tone revealed themselves as eyelids slid themselves back, elongated lashes fluttering slightly, as though he were coming out from a dream sleep. Those unfathomable eyes slowly landed on me and I inhaled sharply as they softened and gleamed, a look I did not know. I knew there was nowhere to run, if this man were to hurt me; yet, at the same time I thought this, I did not feel the motivation to run in my veins. All I could feel was trepidation.

The man lifted his hand and the cold around the room seemed to dissipate as he reached towards me. I was frozen in my position, powerless to move. I couldn't find my voice to call my grandpa, who was merely down the hall. The hand fell upon my cheek and I flinched as the cool hand met the old bruises. Seeing my distress, the man pulled back and his hand left my face; at that motion, I suddenly felt lonely without that hand on my cheek, caressing it as though it were a gem of priceless value. No one had ever done that before to me.

The eyes softened even more as he knelt down to my level, balanced on one knee. Quietly, I could hear his voice speaking to me, a deep voice that held great strength within it, yet it was sad, as though he were feeling bad for something.

"Who did this to you?" he asked me, gazing at me with a poignant look, concern gleaming behind those crimson-purple veils. I opened my mouth on instinct to answer him, to say that it wasn't important, but I caught myself when his look changed. It seemed to tell me not to lie to him. He could tell if I lied to him, I soon become aware of, and I shut my mouth, instead biting my lower lip as I figured out a way to reply.

He was patient, I realized, after we had waiting for what seemed like hours, yet it was only a few minutes. Those eyes never left mine for a second. Their emotional tide inside of them kept me locked in place where I was and I could hardly blink as my eyes were trapped by his, captivated by the mesmerizing spheres of mixed color. An odd feeling welled inside of me the longer I stared, the longer he held my gaze in his, the longer he waited patiently for my answer, yet I could not answer him. For some strange reason, I felt my cheeks grow hot as we continued to keep our gazes locked. Why was I blushing at a time like this?

"You're shaking," he stated after another few minutes of silence, the concern still evident in his tone. "Are you frightened of me?"

I still could not speak my silent voice and instead, I nodded slightly. Truth was, I wasn't as scared as I probably should be, probably because of how he gazed at me with such care in those fiery amethyst eyes, but by the same token, I was scared of what he could do to me, what others had already done to me. However, I did not think that was the case here, as this person whom I hadn't ever met was looking at me differently from the way others did. He did not look at me with a taunting look, a look that promised pain, but it was a look similar to what grandpa gave me, only stronger. It was complicated to explain.

"I can understand why you're frightened of me," the man said as he stood up again, backing up a step. "Nevertheless, I want you to know I will never hurt you. You freed me from my prison... for that I can never thank you enough."

There was a stronger, heartrending emotion lacing his voice that he tried to keep out, but it did not seem possible for him at this time. As he took that step back, I felt stronger for some reason, that he understood why I could not answer, why I could not be comfortable by just one look at him, by just meeting him. I am surprised he understands me when he hardly knows me. Or has he known me all along and just waited for me to call to him? How was that possible?

I look down at the puzzle in my hands, breaking my gaze with the stranger in front of me, something a person shouldn't do, but I could not help it. The puzzle was still glowing with its golden shine, a proud Egyptian shine. Is he connected to this enigma in my hands? Is he the one to grant me my wish?

I felt the cold in the room dispel completely and instinctively looked up. The man was gone. I blinked, looking right and left and behind me for him, wanting to make sure this wasn't a trick, but he wasn't anywhere. I sighed for the third time that night and ran a hand through my spiky hair. I know I hadn't imagined what had just taken place, nor could I imagine the cold hand on my cheek, those alluring eyes looking at me and only me. It made me feel… kind of wanted, as if something had wanted me, and I had wanted it. But that feeling was now gone and I already missed it.

I placed the puzzle on my nightstand and went in the bathroom to get ready for bed, as it was already too late and I had school tomorrow, something I was not looking forward to. I hope the puzzle granted my wish. My heart hoped so. I looked at my reflection and blinked, before nearly falling backwards in shock. The man was looking back at me. I rubbed my eyes and in an instant, his reflection was gone and only mine remained. How strange he looked so similar to me. Why was I continuing to see him? Was this some kind of trick someone's playing on me? It wouldn't have ever been the first time.

I walked back into my room and crawled into bed, looking up at the ceiling and out my roof window. I let out a small breath and turned over on my side, facing the wall, closing my eyes. I may as well get some rest after tonight's events. The sheets felt warm compared to the cold feeling I had felt beforehand, yet it was not as welcoming as the cold had been. The cold had felt... nice, to be ingenuous. I found myself thinking back to when those crimson-amethyst eyes had first laid themselves upon me.

Who was the owner of these eyes and why is it he gazed at me, as if he were looking into my very soul, searching my mind for an answer to an unspoken question. It was a question I knew he had wanted to ask me, yet was so patient that he restrained himself from doing so. What was the question he had solely wanted to ask me? Why was he concerned for me? I noticed that he had looked more concerned than my grandfather ever had when he touched my bruises, the old bruises coating my jaw line.

An odd ache grew in my chest as I suddenly felt a strange longing to have him come here once more, if only for a minute or a second. Those echoing eyes of blood and stone, those eyes that mesmerized and etched themselves into my mind, permanently scarring my mentality, yet the scarring did not hurt.

I felt my tiredness begin to relax my body against the soft mattress as the soft pitter-patter of the rain began to fall, the light thunderstorm overhead. I began to shake as I heard the loud drums of warring thunder and see flashes of those fiery-jagged dances the lightning performed. I could not help it now in this situation. Every time a storm came, I would shake because I was so terrified of it. How was I to get to sleep now?

As if someone had answered my prayer, I felt a cool hand stroking my shoulder and flitting against the back of my neck and upper back. I turned my head sharply to see whom it was that had come to me, but I saw no one and nothing but the rest of my room. Conversely, I still felt the hand on me, caressing the cold feeling into me, the same cold feeling I welcomed with gratefulness.

The loneliness inside of my soul, the silent fortress I had placed up was finally beginning to crack as I felt something touch the side of my face, the hand that had been stroking my shoulder placing itself there instead. I felt a fingertip rest atop my lips and I shivered slightly, my warm breathe meeting in contact with the digit. For a second, my ears seemed to become deaf and the storm seemed to have dissipated. Then, I felt cold lips press themselves upon mine and my eyes widened, trying to find the source of such softness, the caress being gentle and undemanding.

This was the first time I had felt something like this. My heart began to ache as if it were feeling something so tragic, so disastrous that the guilt for such a thing rested down in my core. Despite that distressing feeling, I found myself closing my eyes and relaxing into it, my fears becoming that which were once screaming in my ears now silent. My limbs felt like lead, as if it were to take a great strength to use, but I did not find any need for them right now.

I let out a sigh as I felt the darkness of sleep creep at me and when I felt the air between my lips and the unknown one, and the fear I had felt was now gone, as if it had never existed. Though the storm flashed above me, though the thunder was booming to me again, I found myself not caring or afraid of it.

"Sleep..." I heard a voice in my ear. Whether it was the coolness of the breath or the fact that the voice was soft and distressing, I realized it was the same melodic voice from earlier. The voice of that man who had appeared before me as soon as the last piece of the puzzle had slipped into place, the voice that pulled at my heartstrings with so much ease that it seemed to sad to hear again. Now, to me, that did not seem to matter as I found the tiredness was pulling me back down into my mattress, the warmth of the sheets providing something more for me this time around and I closed my eyes, my head accepting the soft pillow behind it.

Before the slumber of night actually claimed my mind as it did any other night, I could hear that voice again, just above me, and its tone was still sad, but at the same time, it was trusting and somewhat accepting as it spoke to me, "Good night, Aibou..."

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