storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-01-07 11:41 pm
storypaint) wrote2009-01-07 11:41 pm
Sennen Puzzle (Layton & Yami gen)
Title: Sennen Puzzle
Length: 709 words
Prompt: Professor Layton (Anon) Fan Meme: The King of Puzzles meets the King of Games.
Pairing: Layton and Yami gen
Other: n/a
Excerpt: "In the tomb, in the tomb," the man said, his English accent thick. "Sir likes puzzles, yes? Is a great puzzle. Thousands of year old."
Layton had never seen a puzzle like this before. Ancient, but so well-crafted! Made of some gold alloy, he thought, but very well-made... almost too well-made for Egyptian technology.
Very carefully, he traced the wedjat symbol with a fingertip. It glittered dully under the grime of age. Layton wiped the sweat from his forehead absently. The Egyptian sun was baking the dust into his skin. He'd even forgone his traditional top hat in the heat. He looked up at the dark-skinned man who'd brought in the small box.
"And where was this found?"
"In the tomb, in the tomb," the man said, his English accent thick. "Sir likes puzzles, yes? Is a great puzzle. Thousands of year old."
"All right then," Layton said. "You may go."
The man left and Layton began to pull the pieces out of the box and catalogue them, sketching carefully. He was gentle, of course, but there wasn't much need for his care. If he hadn't known where the pieces had come from, he would never have assumed. They were strong, not bending under his touch.
He spread the pieces out on the makeshift desk and without quite thinking about it, he began to slot them together. It was easy-- too easy-- like someone was guiding his hands. He felt almost dazed as the pieces came together into an inverted pyramid shape. He held it in his hands, and then, shaking a bit, lifted it to stare into the Eye of Horus.
There was a flash of something bright and Layton fell backwards in his chair. His head struck the ground and pain burst behind his eyes.
*
The stairs led nowhere, upside-down and around to doors too small to enter and too big to open. They crossed the ceiling and the walls. Layton stared up, confused, trying to find his bearings. The floor was underneath him, probably.
But the voice was all around him.
"Who has found the puzzle?"
Layton coughed and sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He looked around but saw no one.
"Hershel Layton?" he said.
"You are not the right one," the voice said. A door near the top of the cavernous room opened with a soft pop and a skinny man with very odd hair strode out of it. He had the wedjat on his forehead, softly glowing, and he was dressed in white. The pain flashed behind Layton's eyes again and he groaned a little.
"I'm sorry," the man said, and suddenly he was in front of Layton, without actually having walked down the stairs. Layton blinked.
"I applaud your skill, however. I am..."
The man blinked and looked confused for a moment. Had he honestly forgotten his name?
"I am," he said again, "the King of Games."
"Ah, okay," Layton said.
"Perhaps we will meet again someday," he said, reaching forward (when had he gotten so close to him?) and tracing the Eye on Layton's forehead.
"Ye--" Layton began before he sagged like a puppet with his strings cut.
The King of Games caught him before his head struck the ground again, and watched the British man slowly fade away out of his dark mind. He looked up at the staircases crisscrossing the place with a twinge of regret on his face.
"Soon," he breathed hopefully as the room slowly faded back into the dark Egyptian heat.
*
Layton woke with stabbing pains behind his eyes. He raised his hand to cover his eyes and groaned a bit.
"Sir, are you all right?"
It was his Egyptian aide, a shadow in the doorframe. Layton reached out and felt the ground; dust and sand. He cracked his eyes and studied the tent over himself. No staircases in sight.
Why had he thought there would be stairs?
"I think I want to go inside for a while," he muttered.
"Yes, sir," the man said. He watched as Layton found his feet slowly, and he followed him at a respectful distance to the compound door. Layton leaned heavily on the doorframe for a moment before limping inside. Then the Egyptian went back to the tent and picked the golden pieces out of the sand, carefully placing them back into the box.
Maybe his brother could sell it. There was a market for everything, after all. Maybe another traveler in this godforsaken land would be interested in a puzzle.
The Eye glittered and the Egyptian shut the box quickly.
Length: 709 words
Prompt: Professor Layton (Anon) Fan Meme: The King of Puzzles meets the King of Games.
Pairing: Layton and Yami gen
Other: n/a
Excerpt: "In the tomb, in the tomb," the man said, his English accent thick. "Sir likes puzzles, yes? Is a great puzzle. Thousands of year old."
Layton had never seen a puzzle like this before. Ancient, but so well-crafted! Made of some gold alloy, he thought, but very well-made... almost too well-made for Egyptian technology.
Very carefully, he traced the wedjat symbol with a fingertip. It glittered dully under the grime of age. Layton wiped the sweat from his forehead absently. The Egyptian sun was baking the dust into his skin. He'd even forgone his traditional top hat in the heat. He looked up at the dark-skinned man who'd brought in the small box.
"And where was this found?"
"In the tomb, in the tomb," the man said, his English accent thick. "Sir likes puzzles, yes? Is a great puzzle. Thousands of year old."
"All right then," Layton said. "You may go."
The man left and Layton began to pull the pieces out of the box and catalogue them, sketching carefully. He was gentle, of course, but there wasn't much need for his care. If he hadn't known where the pieces had come from, he would never have assumed. They were strong, not bending under his touch.
He spread the pieces out on the makeshift desk and without quite thinking about it, he began to slot them together. It was easy-- too easy-- like someone was guiding his hands. He felt almost dazed as the pieces came together into an inverted pyramid shape. He held it in his hands, and then, shaking a bit, lifted it to stare into the Eye of Horus.
There was a flash of something bright and Layton fell backwards in his chair. His head struck the ground and pain burst behind his eyes.
*
The stairs led nowhere, upside-down and around to doors too small to enter and too big to open. They crossed the ceiling and the walls. Layton stared up, confused, trying to find his bearings. The floor was underneath him, probably.
But the voice was all around him.
"Who has found the puzzle?"
Layton coughed and sat up, rubbing the back of his head. He looked around but saw no one.
"Hershel Layton?" he said.
"You are not the right one," the voice said. A door near the top of the cavernous room opened with a soft pop and a skinny man with very odd hair strode out of it. He had the wedjat on his forehead, softly glowing, and he was dressed in white. The pain flashed behind Layton's eyes again and he groaned a little.
"I'm sorry," the man said, and suddenly he was in front of Layton, without actually having walked down the stairs. Layton blinked.
"I applaud your skill, however. I am..."
The man blinked and looked confused for a moment. Had he honestly forgotten his name?
"I am," he said again, "the King of Games."
"Ah, okay," Layton said.
"Perhaps we will meet again someday," he said, reaching forward (when had he gotten so close to him?) and tracing the Eye on Layton's forehead.
"Ye--" Layton began before he sagged like a puppet with his strings cut.
The King of Games caught him before his head struck the ground again, and watched the British man slowly fade away out of his dark mind. He looked up at the staircases crisscrossing the place with a twinge of regret on his face.
"Soon," he breathed hopefully as the room slowly faded back into the dark Egyptian heat.
*
Layton woke with stabbing pains behind his eyes. He raised his hand to cover his eyes and groaned a bit.
"Sir, are you all right?"
It was his Egyptian aide, a shadow in the doorframe. Layton reached out and felt the ground; dust and sand. He cracked his eyes and studied the tent over himself. No staircases in sight.
Why had he thought there would be stairs?
"I think I want to go inside for a while," he muttered.
"Yes, sir," the man said. He watched as Layton found his feet slowly, and he followed him at a respectful distance to the compound door. Layton leaned heavily on the doorframe for a moment before limping inside. Then the Egyptian went back to the tent and picked the golden pieces out of the sand, carefully placing them back into the box.
Maybe his brother could sell it. There was a market for everything, after all. Maybe another traveler in this godforsaken land would be interested in a puzzle.
The Eye glittered and the Egyptian shut the box quickly.