Language of the Shadows

Disclaimer: Neither Yu-Gi-Oh! nor the song by Nile do I own.

Warnings: None really. Just some Ancient Egyptian words, metaphors and imagery.

Darkness blanketed the city, the bill boards, business and homes twinkling like stars. The ocean gently lapped against boats in the harbor, almost too calm. Even the wind was quiet, only the barest hint of a gentle breeze winding its way among the streets. It seemed to come and go, caressing the skin of late night walkers before vanishing once more.

It was here, in the unusual quiet Domino City night there would come a momentous beginning. Amongst the towering scrapers and homey apartment buildings sat a fairly unique little game shop. The closed sign danced with the wandering wind as darkened windows tightly locked doors seemed to creek and groan with a sudden anticipation. But a single light showed through a skylight window, seeking to shush the muttering walls and floor. It may have worked had not a sick feeling of dreadreaddread, despair and hopelessness permeated out with it.

In the blank expanse of nothing, the forgotten soul could almost taste it. Through the worrying hands that danced over the gold, the tendrils of Shadow licked up the negative emotions echoing from the child. It seemed to echo his own, as he sat barely conscious in the dark. Where he was did not matter, for all he knew was here and there was nothing to prove otherwise. Dancing before his eyes in scattered glimpses, visions of a door wrought in iron admist the rough stone, painted pillars with muted colors, and ancient paintings of seated figures bordering the ceiling just above the single door. Vague emotions stirred at these things, but were shushed as the sluggish mind felt the shadows whisper, ozone and sand burning his nose with each supposed breath.

Here was where he was and would remain, for hope had long since been worn away with any sense of self. Only the barest impressions of feeling kept the soul from falling into complete apathy.

The body, bruised, battered and torn, aching with the day's viscous onslaught as a weary mind found no solution to the teenager's problem. He had nowhere near the amount to satiate the bully's greedy demands. As the feeling of hopelessness bubbled in his gut, his hands played with the gold, its smooth surface offering comfort. Despite the foolishness of it, the boy continued his steady pace, pieces clicking and clacking twisting to fit and make room for more. If there was no hope he may as well find a moment's joy before the end.

Abandon hope and I shall become free…

The being suddenly felt a twist, a painful snap that hurthurt oh it hurt, but also cleared his mind. The drowsy blanket pressing down seemed to ease for a moment and suddenly his thoughts were wriggling out, free. He could feel his form move, with a painful slowness that seemed unreal. It was but a little, but to feel his own limbs twitch and tingle was monumental. The change stirred his wriggling thoughts, but when he asked himself of these shadows, of this place and whywhywhy, there was no answer. His mind yielded nothing, just as his surroundings. It was empty and cleansed of all things beyond this moment, beyond the nothing of this musty place.

And with freedom acquire emptiness, with mind cleansed and empty…

The child couldn't believe what he witnessed but the proof was there in his hands. In his moment of despair when his soul seemed to shrink into the void and his body drooped with fatigue (even his own hair) he found the gold yielding to his advances. What had proved to be an unscalable wall now crumbled into dust as soon more pieces clicked and clacked together into a new form. It was a miracle, impossible but yet it happened, his hearting seeming beat faster as if racing towards something. Reaching out despite the despair to something more…

There is the void known as despair

A gateway upon an emptiness endless and vast

The soul knew he must be dreaming, another bout of madness dancing across his eyes. Yet there stood the door, still dimly seen but clear as in his glimpse before. A single enigmatic eye stared back into his own and he could almost hear a voice, quiet but firm in its statement. "It is only the beginning. Soon Neb Tawy… Soon…"

The amethyst eyes widen, light dancing from them like the jewels of their namesake. What once scattered pieces of shining gold coalesced into a single pyramid, perfect in its proportions and smooth despite its age. The child reached for the final piece, joy pounding in his frame. But as his fingers scraped against air, twitching uselessly like a gasping fish, terror and despair broke the dam of joy. His frantic search around the brightly lit room yielded nothing and tears now stained bright light of his eyes. So close, so close to years of hard earned joy, of maybe granting a single wish, lost with the missing piece.

Yet a gentle murmur, followed by a gentle touch on his shoulder. The scent of grandfatherly love as he tackled old man, despite the aching protests of wearing muscles and stinging cuts. A word of thanks, a ruffling of hair and the child was alone once more. The final piece, a signal enigmatic eye staring back into the boys, left him unaware of the dancing shadows. The world held its breath, even as gold slipped against gold, and thousands of voices sang in a forgotten tongue…

The changes had stopped, with a finality that left the emaciated soul reeling. To be denied this final release, weather to light or darkness, salvation or damnation, left the figure screaming in agony. His quivering form was drenched in insanity, the once sharp eyes glazed over, even as he reached towards the door. Authoritative voice demanded this mockery cease before sliding into the begging whispers of a helpless child. In the final throes of madness did the soul finally hear a multitude of voices growing, singing in praise of the sun and sky, the beauty of sands and river and a tale of light and darkness. "Now Netjer-nefer, now Sa Re. Go forth good king…"

In despair the language of the shadows is intelligible

In madness all sounds become articulate

The change from spirit to flesh was jarring, the multitude of sensations demanding his attention stunned his weary mind. The aches of tired muscles, the stinging cuts and viscous bruises marring his? lithe frame. The soothing passage of air into lungs, the now calming heartbeat, even the burning of his eyes from the blinding light but moments before. It was all so surreal, nothing the lost soul could've comprehended was beyond the musty room and iron wrought door. The weight in his hand dragged his eyes down to the now complete golden pyramid, the same eye staring back with mystery. The whisperings returned, speaking of purpose, of duty… Ma'at is broken, to fix and uphold it is your duty. Challenge those with crime against their hearts, reward the innocent. Go forth good king.

Yes, he could feel the effects of wrongs committed, the physical and emotional. Recalling brought memories that were right yet not. A sneer of malice and flashing of the knife, terror like bile against his throat as fists crashed against his face and feet cracking against his ribs. The scent of avarice palpable as the threat was made. They felt like his and must be his for he knew nothing else. Carrying the pyramid with him as he rose, a smile etched across his face. It was not of innocence like the boy's nor the pleased reward of a once noble king. This was of pleasure in pain, in justice and utter madness.

"It's game time, Ushio-San."

Terror and Despair they guide me,

Into nightmares that follow one upon another,

Like windblown grains of sand

The boy huddled himself on his bed, the gold pyramid, now affectionately referred to as the Puzzle, lay at his feet as innocently as a child's toy. But the boy was no child, and he knew something was amiss. He snatched at it like an elusive bird, his fingers brushing but never quite catching. The blackouts had become more frequent as did the nightmares that seemed to follow. It was always snatches of color and sound, never concrete but still with a taste of reality that told him they were more than just the musings of his subconscious.

The sickening smell of burning flesh, the mad screaming of a fellow student, flash of bright light and the thundering of an explosive boom. The smooth texture of a single die between his fingers and the satisfaction of justice done, that which was broken fixed. No fear or pain to those he loved, the wrongdoers punished in accordance to their crimes…

He shook his head trying to rid himself of the images, his fear mounting like a tidal wave. Scooping up the tiny Puzzle and hugged it tightly, the top ring pressing into his collar almost making him cough. While he was grateful for his new friends, for no more bullying and pain and aching loneliness, he was still scared. He just wanted to know he wasn't going crazy, that it wasn't he that was hurting those who hurt him or his friends. He didn't like fighting.

"Please," he whispered into the darkness of bedroom, "I only want to know what's in your heart. That I'm not going crazy and there's nothing to fear…"

The eye of the Puzzle twinkled in response.

I have become as the wastelands, of unending nothingness

His head cocked, a swift but imperceptible movement. A child's voice pleading in the dark… "I only want to know what's in your heart…"

His heart? Did even he have one? Who was he, were they not the same? Slowly the burning eyes shut as his face lowered into his hands. There was nothing to know, for that was exactly what he was nothing. No name, no face, a vague sense of self that maybe be he was him and the boy was the boy but he could never be sure. Looking inside himself revealed nothing but a vast empty desert, where maybe once something lived and thrived but now was dead and gone. The forgotten soul rubbed his face in slow agonizing circles, tired from another fruitless questioning. From the corners of the vast, tomb like room tendrils of Shadow crawled, slowly and cringing as if in supplication to a divine being. Nearer and nearer they approached, bringing the smell of ozone and burning desert.

Now shall the night things fill me with their whisperings…,

The head snapped up at the first gentle of caress against his leg, others reaching to caress his arm and shoulders. He watched in fascination as they twined about his fingers, before spreading to lap against him from head to toe. He couldn't help pulling his head away even as they seemed to reach with gentle hands that ran through his hair and brushed against his cheek. Soon he heard a voice, a voice of ghosts and desert winds and forgotten tombs, tingling against his ears as it whispered soothing words.

"You are justice and vengeance, the bearer of Shadows and heka. Creation and Destruction, benediction and malediction, of light and darkness. Balance the scales and protect the Child chosen by the Gods. Together shall you heal the wounds caused by isfet…"

He growled and couldn't help the flinches as they entwined about him. Both he and the throne he sat upon were almost completely covered in Shadows. Their words both strange and familiar, began to erode away his doubts, until his flinches ceased and he leaned into their touch. Soon his eyes closed once more, this time in contentment, as they smothered him and spoke of purpose, of future, of peace…

In the bedroom, the fatigue had finally pulled the child to sleep, arms curled about the Puzzle. His breathing once strained with fear, now deepened peacefully with sleep as a darkened tendril tinged with gold stroked his face. A foreign voice gently whispered in the dark:

"Soon child. Soon you will know…"

And the Shadows reveal their Wisdom

Fin.