Touch The Stars

Touch the Stars

Hato chiisai

Disclaimer: No own.

YAOI WARNING

Pharaoh- Marik- telekinetic

Emperor- Bakura- telepath

King- Yami- teleporter

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Chapter 18

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Marik sat in the council room alone, head in his hands. Yami and Seto stood in the doorway, watching him. After a moment, they slipped away and went into the dining room where Bakura, Otogi and Jounochi were sitting around the table, Otogi and Jounochi playing cards for small sweets, and Bakura was leaning back in his chair, one foot braced on the edge of the table, flipping a knife in his hand.

“What do you think?” Yami said, sitting down in a chair, and Bakura’s eyes flashed over the pair.

“Honestly?” Seto said. “I think he’s scared.”

“Who?” Bakura said.

“Who do you think?” Seto asked, annoyed. “Marik.”

“Marik? Scared?!” Bakura scoffed.

“He may be a tyrant… but he’s still human, Emperor Bakura.” Yami said. “And he loves his brother. As much as we love our brothers.” Bakura frowned.

“Bakura… if he’s willing to give up his crown for his brother… he can’t be all bad…” Jounochi said. Bakura snorted.

“You’re just angry that he loves YOUR brother!” Otogi snapped, and Bakura glared, standing.

“You don’t have a brother, Otogi, so do NOT speak to me like that!!!” The Emperor screamed.

“Bakura, calm yourself!!!” Yami cried, but before Bakura could answer a Sumerian officer teleported into the room.

“Sir!” She said, saluting Yami. “The Egyptonian traitor has hailed the ship and is currently speaking with Pharaoh Marik!”

“What?! Without us?!” Yami shouted, and vanished.

“Dammit!” Bakura yelped, and he, Seto, Otogi and Jounochi ran from the room and into the council chamber.

Yami appeared within in the room to see Marik standing before the screen, head and shoulders hanging.

“As you wish.” Marik said, quietly, and Anak was sporting a sickeningly smug smirk. Yami blinked.

“What does he wish?!” He demanded, but Marik said nothing. “WHAT IS GOING ON!?!” The other monarchs rushed into the room.

“I will see you soon.” Anak said, ignoring all but Marik. And the transmission was cut off. The monarchs stared at Marik, who slowly collapsed to his knees, then slumped to the side, resting on his left hip and bracing himself upright on his arm. Yami looked at the others, then moved closer.

“Pharaoh?” He asked, reaching out. But as soon as his fingers touched Marik a blast of telekinetic energy from the man flung the Sumerian King across the room and into the wall.

“AAH!!” Yami yelped, falling to the floor. After a moment, Marik gathered himself together and stood. He turned and walked towards the door, and when Seto, Bakura, Otogi and Jounochi didn’t move, he shoved them aside with his mind.

“What the hell?!” Bakura snapped, whirling. “What is WRONG with you?!” Marik ignored Bakura and kept walking. Seto helped Yami up and the four monarchs chased after the Egyptonian. He ended up in the transport bay activating a small, one man transport.

“What are you doing?!” Yami demanded.

“Taking care of business.” Marik said softly, and turned to board the transport.

“What?!” Bakura asked, moving forwards.

“I’m getting our brothers back.” Marik said, looking Bakura straight in the eye before the hatch closed and the transport launched.

“DAMN YOU!!!” Bakura screamed after him. Yami blinked and turned at a beeping.

“Another transmission.” He gasped, and whirled, running back to the council room, the others after him. He keyed in a few things on the panel, and Anak appeared on the screen.

“Hello, your majesties.” He said with a smirk.

“What the hell is going on?!” Seto demanded to know.

“I’m doing you a favor.” Anak said. “I’m getting rid of Marik.”

“What?!” Yami gasped.

“From now on this connection is one way.” Anak said, and hit a button, then turned and moved away from the console. Yami blinked and watched him,

“Anak?” He called. “ANAK!!!” Anak did not answer. He moved over to another soldier and looked at the screen he was monitoring.

“Well?”

“We have Marik’s transport in the tractor beam now, sir. Bringing him in.”

“Good.” Anak said, and turned to look at the door through which Marik would appear.

“He’s docking.” Another man called a few minutes later. “And has boarded.”

“Good.” Anak said again. And a moment later, the doors opened. The monarchs’ eyes widened as Marik appeared; a very different Marik than the one that had left them minutes before. Marik was not carrying himself with authority as he had before, and didn’t even look up to meet Anak’s eyes. His jewelry, cloak and over tunic was gone, as were his boots. He stood looking like a humble servant, in a plain short sleeved tunic and pants. Anak seemed to grow a few inches as he lifted his head and looked down his nose at his Pharaoh.

“Marik. How good of you to come.” He sneered, and Marik slowly drew in a breath and let it out, trying to keep himself calm. “Please, come in.” Anak drawled, and after a moment Marik slowly made his way into the room. He stopped a few feet before Anak, who soon closed the distance between them. He snorted, and gave Marik a harsh telekinetic shove, but the Pharaoh responded defensively, only rocking back a bit. Anak glared, then backhanded Marik. Marik’s head whipped to the side, but that was the only reaction that Anak got from him.

“You need to remember your place, Marik.” Anak hissed. “You are NOT the Pharaoh. NOT anymore. I am. So you had better show the proper respect. Get on your knees!” Marik closed his eyes briefly, then looked at Anak. He and Anak glared at one another for a moment, and then Marik faced straight ahead again, and dropped to his knees. Slowly, Anak’s face split into an arrogant grin, and he began to laugh. He stepped away and motioned to Marik. Soldiers moved over and seized Marik’s arms, pulling him to his feet, then turning him around and bending him over a nearby console, roughly slamming his cheek into it. Marik winced, but made no sound. Anak grinned and raised a hand, facing his open palm towards Marik. He narrowed his eyes and Marik’s shirt was shredded away, revealing his bare back.

“What in the cosmos is that?” Otogi gasped, seeing Marik’s back covered in markings.

Anak wore a triumphant look on his face and moved over to Marik, reaching out and running a hand over his back.

“Finally… The Ancient Scriptures…” He growled. He looked over the markings for a moment, then frowned. “What… what is this?!” He gasped. “MARIK! What is this?!”

“The Ancient Scriptures.” Marik replied in a gravelly tone.

“I know that, you moron!! But what does it say?! What is this writing?!”

“An ancient script that only a select few can read.” Marik snapped. “And YOU are not one of them!” Anak snarled.

“Then tell me.”

“…… No.” Marik hissed.

“… you dare to refuse?” Anak hissed.

“Only those of royal blood may know the secrets of the Scriptures.”

“What secrets?! What does it tell?!” Anak demanded. Marik remained silent. “You would sacrifice your brother for the secrets? And the other princes? And the princess? Well?!” Marik once again said nothing. “Fine. You won’t tell me. But maybe your brother will!” Marik still did not react, which made Anak snarl. He turned to a soldier.

“The Prince. NOW!” He snapped, and the soldier left. A few moment later he returned, dragging Malik with him. The Prince was limping badly, and was bruised up and down, and his lip was bloodied. Anak turned and smirked at him.

“Ah. Prince Malik.” He drawled, and Malik looked up and glared. His eyes widened when he spotted his brother.

“Marik!!” He cried, and began to struggle against the soldier holding him. Anak snarled and moved over, seizing Malik by the back of the neck and squeezing the pressure points. Malik yelped and grimaced as Anak forced him over to stand behind Marik.

“The Ancient Scriptures, boy…” He hissed, and Malik stared down at his brother’s back. “Read them.” Malik whimpered and tried to pull away but Anak squeezed his neck again, making him hiss and cringe. “READ THEM!!!”

“N-NO!!” Malik groaned, and Anak snarled, then looked down at Marik and narrowed his eyes. Marik suddenly jerked, and began to struggle against the soldiers holding him down.

“HNNH!! HNNNGH!! HNNGAAH!!! AAH!! AAAAHH!! EEYAAAHH!!!!” Marik screamed, thrashing in pain. Malik whimpered and struggled as he stared wide eyed at his brother, and his eyes widened even more when the markings on Marik’s back began to bleed. “AAAAH!! YAAAH!!! S-STOP!! PLEASE!!! GYYAAAARRH!!!”

“STOP!!” Malik screamed, shaking his head in horror. “STOP IT!! PLEASE!! DON’T HURT HIM!!!” Anak turned away from Marik, who went limp and stopped screaming.

“Read it, Malik!” Anak hissed. “Or so help me, your brother will DIE screaming!” Malik gulped and slowly nodded. Anak grinned. “READ!” Malik moved closer to Marik and looked upon the carvings. He opened his mouth, and began to read. Anak blinked. The soldiers blinked and looked around, confused. The monarchs watching from the Sumerian flagship blinked, also confused. Marik blinked, then closed his eyes and smiled slightly. Malik read the scriptures in an ancient tongue… the tongue that the Scriptures were written in. Anak stood confounded for a moment, then growled and backhanded Malik to the floor.

“I’ll bet you think you’re quite clever, you little brat!!” He snapped, and Malik looked up, glaring.

“You told me to read it. I did. You never said to translate it. And that, I will NOT do!” He snapped, and Anak glared. He reached out and seized Malik’s hair and jerked him to his feet, then flung him against the console next to his brother, and a new pair of soldiers held him down. Marik opened his eyes and stared at Malik, who stared right back. Marik opened his hand and reached out, and a moment later Malik did the same and the brothers clasped hands. Marik offered Malik a small smile, which the younger boy returned. Malik winced as the back of his shirt was ripped open and Anak ran his hand over the smooth, unmarred skin of his back.

“Are you both quite sure you don’t want to translate the scriptures for me?” He asked, in a sickeningly sweet tone. Malik closed his eyes and Marik scowled.

“Go stick your dick in the reactor!” Malik spat, and Marik grinned and chuckled.

“Yeah. What he said.” He snickered, and Malik opened his eyes, grinning at his brother.

“I’d rather stick it in your sister.” Anak sneered, and both Malik and Marik jerked up and thrashed around.

“BASTARD!!” Malik screamed.

“HOW DARE YOU!?!” Marik roared, but both were slammed back down on the console and restrained. Anak snorted, sporting a superior grin on his face.

“I want the translation of the Ancient Scriptures.” He growled. “How much persuasion will it take?” He glared at the pair. “Marik does not respond to pain. Malik does not respond to his brother in pain. So we’ll try it the other way.” Malik and Marik locked eyes, Malik in fear, Marik in concern. Anak looked over Marik’s back, then looked at Malik. He glanced back and forth between them a few times, then narrowed his eyes, focusing on Malik. Malik’s eyes widened as he let out a pained gasp, then he winced. He grit his teeth and whimpered, then groaned loudly. Anak’s face slowly twisted into a sadistic grin, and Malik’s moans became screams.

The monarchs watching from the Sumerian flagship watched in horror, eyes wide and mouths open as Malik’s once flawless back was cut open by invisible knives, the blood trickling down and soaking into the remains of his shirt and the sash around his waist. Slowly, his back began to resemble Marik’s, and by the time Anak looked away Malik and Marik’s backs were identical.

Marik stared hard at his little brother, clutching his hand tightly. He had reached out telekinetically almost immediately after Anak had begun to comfort Malik, but the ghostly hands caressing his hair and face could only comfort Malik so far. Malik slowly opened his eyes, tears spilling down his face, and gave Marik a weak smile of thanks.

“You did well.” Marik said softly to his brother, and Malik’s smile widened but the tears still fell.

“I see I am not getting any results.” Anak said. He turned his back on the, crossed his arms and closed his eyes, thinking. After a moment, they snapped open. “Bring me the Assyrian!” He ordered, and Marik jerked, eyes widening. Malik stared at his brother and tightened his grip on his hand.

“—go of me you ugly over grown—OW!! LET ME GO!!!” Ryou was struggling and shouting all the way from his cell to the bridge of the small ship. Anak glared.

“Shut your mouth!” He snapped, and Ryou turned, glaring.

“Make me you MMPH!!” Ryou’s eyes widened as Anak telekinetically shut his mouth for him.

“As you wish…” Anak said with a grin. “Now… I have a little matter I wish to discuss with you, Prince Ryou…” Ryou glared at him, his mouth still tight shut.

~Fuck off, jerk!~ He snapped, mentally, and Anak snarled.

“I told you to shut up….”

~You told me to shut my mouth! You can’t shut up my mind.~

“True…” Anak said, smirking. “In fact… I actually WANT you to use your mind.” Ryou blinked, and Anak turned and looked at Marik and Malik. “You see your beloved Egyptonian friends there?” Ryou’s eyes widened and he stared at Marik and Malik.

~WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!~ He screamed into Anak’s mind, and Anak jerked and winced, lifting a finger to his temple.

“Ahh! Stop that!” He snapped, releasing Ryou’s mouth.

“Marik!” Ryou cried, struggling. “MARIK! MALIK!! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM!?”

“That does not concern you. What DOES concern you is what I WILL do to them if I don’t get the information I want.” Anak said, and Ryou winced, turning aside. “So… what will you do for their safety?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do not deny that you love Marik, boy. I know it. Admit it.” Anak snarled, and Ryou bit his lip.

“Fine.” He said, softly. “I won’t… I love him.”

On the Sumerian flagship Bakura’s mouth fell open, and Yami and Seto nervously glanced at each other, before joining Otogi and Jounochi in staring at Bakura.

“Good.” Anak was saying. “Now that we understand one another—“

“I admitted that I love Marik. That doesn’t mean we understand each other.” Ryou interrupted. Anak snorted.

“Whatever you say.” He said, then looked back over at Marik. “Now… as I was saying. There is some information I want—“

“I won’t tell you.” Ryou interrupted again. “I… I don’t care what you do. I will not give the location of Assyria. Not even… not even for Marik’s sake. One life is not worth the lives of millions.” Anak blinked, then gave a barking laugh.

“Forget your pitiful planet, boy!” Anak snarled, then pointed at Marik’s back. “You see that? These writings? They are the Ancient Scriptures! They tell of the first Pharaoh, Ishtar, and a great secret he had hidden away. The only record of it, where it is and what it is, is the Scriptures. And the Scriptures have been passed down from generation to generation, carved into the back of the firstborn son. And that is the ONLY way and place the Scriptures have ever been recorded. And I want it.” Ryou blinked.

“Why talk to me? It… It’s right THERE!” Ryou said.

“True.” Anak said. “But it is written in an ancient script and language that was lost thousands of years ago to our people… all but those of royal blood and those who serve them.” Ryou blinked.

“You can’t read it.” He said, softly.

“Correct, Prince Ryou. And Marik and Malik both refuse to talk.”

“Why talk to me? I can’t read it.”

“True. But Marik and Malik can read the Scriptures.” Ryou winced as Anak gripped his chin and grinned at him. “And you can read their minds.”

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