(no subject)

[cheeky_eyes]

Title: Servatis a Maleficum
Rating: T
Pairings/Characters: Dollshipping - (Yami no Bakura x Dark Necrofear).
Word Count: 1774
Summary: They say that only certain people can see Duel Spirits, her current charge was not one of them. The Spirit of the Ring however was.
Notes: Yes! Finally broke the 1000 word barrier. No drabble from me this round. ^^ … So who do I owe something now? Anyway, I think I’ve been watching too much GX, not that that is a bad thing though.  Some of this is defiantly from my headcannon for that.  

 

xxx

They say that only certain people can see Duel Sprits, that the gift can be nurtured and grow until it utterly consumes them, breaks them or strengthens them. They have always been around us, always watching over us, but for a long time they couldn’t connect with us for they had no tie to this world. After Egypt fell and the tablets long forgotten all they could do was watch and wait, until things began to change. Soon there were new ways of breaking through to the other World with many rumours of it whispered about on the wind and you were a fool if you didn’t pay attention. And she was no fool.

 

He could never say what it was exactly that drew him to the occult. He understood the theory behind it all, was quite fond of the concepts, but he could never remember why he looked into it in the first place. It had started with a book in his Father’s library he supposed. Casually browsing he’d been looking at the titles without seeing them. Except for one old dark bounded leather book which he’d picked up without a second thought. Beside it was a chronicle of the Ancient Myths of Greece. Although he never remembered it nor recognized it for what it was at the time, a bond had been formed between him and a Spirit for the book contained a gateway to the Spirit World, or one of them anyway.

 

Of course she knew that cards aren’t the only way to connect with your partner. She’d always known. It’s a nice conventional way sure but she was more devious, and he knew his way around the occult. The first time his fingertips brushed the page a small hole in the gate opened, and she tried herself to his world as soon as she could. He may not be willingly to do the ritual, but she was. The trade off was however that he could neither hear nor see her, despite having the potential to. But she was content just to watch over him, she had failed once and she’d be dammed if she were to fail again.

 

The day they’d met the Spirit of the Ring was one neither of them would forget. Ryou’s of course was in retrospect, the day he got the ring was black for many reasons, and the fact it was marked by death did nothing to improve matters. That it should have been his sister’s chilled him right to the core. She on the other hand remembered perfectly well their first meeting. Ryou may not be able to see her, but he certainly could.

“And who is that I spy hiding in the corner,” his voice was smooth; she had to give him that.

“Who are you?” it was direct, but she had a duty that she took very seriously. He cocked his head as he looked at her, as if he had the right to size her up.

“You should go home and play with your dolly,” he replied leisurely. She glared at him with a smouldering look.

“I ask again. Who are you?” She pressed on with a hiss, ignoring his remark.

“It matters not who I am,” he replied evasively. Neither of them moved for a moment as they stared each other down in the empty apartment.  

“You’d better watch yourself,” she replied shortly before disappearing.

 

To say they hated each other would be a vast understatement. She hated him because he was hurting her charge and he hated her because he could. To him she had no purpose; she was all but useless in this world and took up unnecessary space. At least he could manipulate the humans; they had a use in the scheme of things. If she didn’t speak up he didn’t mind having her around, and when she did he made it his goal to mess with her as best he could. He wasn’t one to waste a good opportunity.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” she said as he sat up late one night. He ignored her as he changed into clothes and picked up a bag.

“And just how are you going to stop me?” he taunted as he opened the window. He never used the door if he could help it. Without a word she stepped forward, her hands engulfed in a black anti-glow. As she reached him he pressed himself against her, allowing his host to fall to the floor, surprisingly still asleep. Their heads were millimetres apart when he purred his next sentence.

“You don’t have the power to stop me,” he said as his hands pinned her wrists to the wall. All in all it was a very compromising position and if Ryou hadn’t woken up at that point, he defiantly would have gone further.      

 

For a long time it angered her that he would summon her so casually in duels. As if she had a positive say in the matter. In some duels she was the key to his strategy and she detested it. She only began to tolerate his presence when she saw he wasn’t really trying to harm her charge.  

“Why?” It was a simple enough question, if you had the proper context to place it in. From her tone he could infer that much.

“I need a body, I’m sure you’ve noticed that Spirits can’t do much in this world,” he replied sardonically. Beside them Ryou was sleeping none too peacefully, as if he could sense the restlessness in the air.

“So is that the only reason you take relative care of him?” she asked evenly, never taking her eye off him.

“I mean no harm. He provides a valuable service. I need him sane and well,” he replied as if it were obvious. She blinked.

“You’re not doing a very good job,” she pointed out. He grinned.

“I don’t really have too,” he retorted.     

 

Watching Battle City was an ordeal for her. She could only watch helplessly as Ryou was consumed by the shadows, hurt bad enough to warrant a hospital stay and ultimately sealed away. The Spirit suppressed his consciousness for most of it, but she didn’t know how much of that was genuine compassion and how much was for his own benefit.

“I know you’re there,” eight of ten conversations with him always started like this with ninety eight out of one hundred being instigated by him.

“You hurt him,” she stated accusingly.

“He can’t feel it,” he replied nonchalantly. She glared at him, subconsciously adjusting the doll in her arms. The other Spirit looked at it curiously not for the first time. A look of sudden comprehension flashed in his eyes.

“So that’s how you became a Spirit,” he said with a knowing smirk. She continued to glare at him.

“The question remains,” he continued as he circled her, not unlike a predatory bird. “Did you kill it or was it killed.” If looks could kill the Spirit would be permanently dead ten times over in an instant.

“What happened to my baby is none of your concern,” she furiously spat out before disappearing.    

 

Her tribe had been on the verge of dying out and if you could fall pregnant you instantly gained access to the best food and sleeping spots. She had been lucky enough to carry a child to full term and deliver it safely.

The night was still. A month had passed since the birth of her first child but it had flashed by quickly. It was the first baby the tribe had seen in five summers and no precaution in protecting it was spared. The last child had been a boy and in her arms was a baby girl. Their future was settled, but that wouldn’t come for many summers yet. Finally satisfied the baby would sleep she settled down for the night.

She woke up with blood on her hands.

The Elders had no choice. The tribe was horrified by the heinous crime she had supposingly committed. She was devastated by the loss of her only child but that was never taken into account. That she didn’t do it was never discussed for she had been alone during the night. Therefore her punishment was clear, as she had doomed them all she was dammed for all eternity. And once a curse is administrated, not matter how wrongly, it cannot be undone. To symbolise her failure a broken doll for her childhood was given to her, and in the after life she was to care for it as if I were her own flesh and blood while she rotted in hell.

But she never made it there.   

She found out later that her child had died because of one of her guards in a moment of zealously. Her death had been violent enough and her will to repent for her child great enough that her Spirit had lingered between worlds. But due to her curse she had been permanently changed into the form of a demon. So she waited between worlds until she found one she could interact with, one her form wasn’t marked in.

Pity the other Duel Spirits could smell the curse on her.  

But despite that they took her in, and over time she transformed into one of them. But she was never whole, and she was never complete. She did however take on human charges, protecting them as she hadn’t been able to protect her baby. For thousands of years she did this, but the challenge the Spirit of the Ring gave her compared to none other she had faced. He would always fascinate her as much as he infuriated her. She couldn’t interact with anyone, all the other Duel Spirits tried hard to avoid her for the mark of a curse resonated deep. That he spoke to her intrigued her, but she would rather face the uncomfortable silence then him. When he finally left it was up to her to pick up the pieces. She was his Spirit, but he’d had enough of them. She was fond of him, so she respected his wishes to never see another spirit again.  

They say that once you’ve connected with a Duel Spirit it is for life. That the Spirit, (or Spirits as some lucky few will acquire) is not only a reflection of who you are but are irreversibly bound to you for life. That there is always an attraction that will never fade. They were partners and deep down it would always hurt that he would never see her, and that he would never want too.