Ascension [A Yu-Gi-Oh! FanFiction]

20: Worth

Atem reached blindly into the ceramic box, grabbing another puzzle piece. He ran his fingers along the cool, shaped metal, getting a feel for its ridges and curves. On the table before him sat dozens more of them, piled in groups based on their defining features — some small, some large, some curved, some angular. He noticed, too, how most of them had jagged edges at one or both ends, and he figured this must be the mechanism by which they fit together.

Each piece was beautifully crafted — and if this were truly a puzzle as Satiah claimed, it was unlike any he had ever seen before. So far, he'd managed to stage a few of the larger pieces together on the surface of the table, but there didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to which way they should be facing or what the final form of the object was supposed to be. Finally, after nearly an hour of fiddling with only a handful of the pieces, Atem pushed them forward on the table, leaning back with a sharp sigh.

The movement brought a sting of pain into his side, only intensifying his frustration. Instinctively, he lifted his hand to touch his bandages, feeling the dull ache of his wound beneath. It was nearing two weeks since the attempt on his life, and the Conclave was no closer to finding his attacker than he was to being fully recovered. Just the thought of Bakura still out there, stalking the kingdom in search of more innocents to terrorize, sent a shiver of rage down Atem's spine.

He leaned his elbows onto the table in front of him and pressed his fingers into his temples. Above his lap, the Millennium Ring swung idly back and forth — taunting him. Here it was, hanging from his neck like a coveted treasure, and yet it seemed the Item couldn't be further from his grasp. He still hadn't gotten used to its strange and eerie warmth — like it was somehow alive and had a will of its own. It had yet to 'speak' to him, as some of the Guardians had told him it might, but Atem found himself fearing what it would say when it did. Would it judge his heart coldly, and find him unworthy of its graces? Would it reject him, remaining vengeful for what he'd let happen to its previous owner?

Atem found himself reaching out to touch the Ring, but he stopped at the sound of his bedchamber door creaking open. Satiah stepped inside and closed the door behind her, setting a motherly smile on him as she approached.

"Hiding from me, are you?" she said.

Atem watched the warm light of sunset embracing her as she drew near. Her smile helped to calm his prickling anxiety somewhat, and he reclined in his chair again — more slowly this time. She came around and stood beside him, leaning back on the table and peering down at the piles of glinting metal on the surface.

"Ah — the fabled puzzle," she said, picking up a piece and weighing it in her hand. "Doesn't look like you've made any progress — perhaps you're not so clever after all."

He smirked, then swiped the piece out of her hand and returned it to the pile she'd stolen it from. "Well I'll never get anywhere on it with you distracting me," he quipped back. "Hence the hiding."

"You know, I'd be a little nicer if I were you," she chirped. "You're going to want all the help you can get on this — and need I remind you I almost beat you at senet once."

"Please," Atem shot back, laughing wryly, "you didn't have a ghost of a chance. I had you right where I wanted you."

Satiah bit her lip to hide a smile. Turning slightly, she reached over and ran her fingers along the cover of the box the puzzle had come in. There, she traced the gentle curve of Ramesses' cartouche.

"I can only imagine what secret this puzzle hides," she said, her voice a bit whimsical. "Ramesses was well known for his powerful magic. A part of me wishes I could go back in time to witness the ka of our forefathers. They say the Great King's spirit was as fearsome as they come."