He's teetering on the brink of something dreadful, like this. The world he's happily embraced is a cozy place, lazy Saturday mornings and delicate watercolors, and battle has no place here. Beyond the edge is the world he used to know, where everyone had a grievance that only he could address, where every soul had a battle that only he could fight.
Lukas can't go back there, doesn't want to go back there, but he feels the chill of it creeping up on him, the diamond edge that slices through the nonsense and all possibility of his own peace.
But even when he looks out and sees only darkness, he knows that someone is there beside him.
"I know," he murmurs, shaky into Ken's ear. "But stay with me. Don't go back there and leave me here by myself." If the Great Sage dons armor and gears for merciless battle then Lukas will have no choice but to take up the sword and crown and follow him. He is so tired of being a hero, but Ken is everything he loves about life and protecting him is different.
The better part of the day is spent in shaken togetherness; he can hardly bear to let go of Ken long enough for meals. Taking comfort in his lover's agitation is probably detestable (the old, old part of him that has stirred is displeased, perhaps at his cowardice and perhaps at his dependence) but the knowledge that even his constant Sage is furious reassures him.
At least if he's going to plunge back into Hell, immerse himself in the Sovereign's territory, he won't go alone.
"We're out of eggs," says Ken in the early evening. "You can't make me that fantastic fried rice if we're out of eggs. I'm going to run to the store--"
"Don't bother," Lukas insists. Moving will feel good after the tension of the day. "I'll go."
It's obvious that Ken isn't thrilled with the idea of letting him go out on his own: even if it's only to the corner store for some eggs. The dark Mazoku wants to protect him. Lukas kisses him a lingering and appreciative goodbye, treasuring this place they have carved for themselves, and doesn't listen to a word of objection.
The eggs are bought without incident but he paces the neighborhood, uncomfortable. It occurs to Lukas once that he could walk away, save Ken from those who are only interested in Lukas's power, but his feet take him back to his flat. It was a stupid thought.
He takes the long way around the butcher's shop, not wanting to see the man who might not even know how he'd betrayed Lukas; a man on the corner near his apartment is dressed plainly as if out for a stroll, but the way he stares from behind narrow lenses makes the blond paranoid. The fact that he stares at everyone, and that he has only the faintest aura to him, is little comfort.
This is no way to live, but he doesn't know what else to do. Stand and fight -- kill himself with this bitterness? Lie down and submit -- even knowing that once would only lead to twice, three times, again? Run away? Never.
He has to go to war again. Slowly the steel is sinking back into his skin, despite his struggles.
That night he lies in bed with his lover tucked against him securely. Lukas watches his even breathing, his serenely closed eyes, the gentle subconscious curl of his fingers against the blond's shoulder. It is a very convincing illusion of unconcerned sleep, but they are both awake.
"Bend your mind to this, o Sage," he murmurs, an echo of the past, in a language that is possibly not known by any other living soul. "This must end."
Thousands of years ago, those words had led to the breaking of the Sovereign. Lukas isn't sure what he expects them to do now, but it always seems that when he is in desperate need and has nowhere else to turn, that is the time when Ken comes through for him.
Ken : Return to OriginaramuinMarch 30 2006, 15:50:22 UTC
He hovers near the window when Lukas leaves. A grey-black shadow amidst the drapes and this is familiar. The ease with which he categorises the figures, reading their auras, body language and estimating what they may be saying by Lukas's reactions. This too is familiar.
A gust of wind stirs the lace curtains, and for a second, the Daikenja of Shin Mazoku looks out through the window, the modern world seeming far more plastic and ephemeral before the personality of Murata Ken reasserts itself. He turns away, the chill of his old life making him shiver. He scoops up one of the cats and runs his mostly steady hand through soft fur.
I don't want to go back to that. He knows that the potential never leaves. He is still the Great Sage and the casual, contented life of Murata Ken, student and lecturer is still only skin deep. The Earth Maou has scratched that veneer and Ken can feel the ice starting to seep up through his secure, happy life.
If this goes on...how much longer will it be before he starts to eye the poisons that this world has in such abundance? Or worse, how much longer until he looks at the Mazoku - and there are more of them around everyday - and doesn't see people but threats to Lukas's safety? How much longer until the Sage's clinical precision reduces everything to the elemental formula of War?
Do you stand with us, or against us?
He is still staring blankly at an empty canvas when Lukas returns. The blond's arms slide around him, under his own and they stand, silent and unmoving. Ken half-closes his eyes and they're standing face-to-face under that tree. The Sovereign's darkness is poisoning the sky and the blond, bright and radiant under the still-strong sun.
It...it makes something inside him hurt. For the first time in this life, he realises that there is no way to return to the kingdom that is and probably always be home. He has a good life here...but still, there is a uncomfortable knot under his heart and he sighs.
Leaving the next day for classes, he is not surprised to see Lukas with Rufus's lead draped over a shoulder, tucking his sketchpad into the battered backpack. He picks up his own briefcase, kisses Lukas and leaves.
Lukas is normally in bed when he leaves in the morning, but he knows that this fractional delay is all that Lukas can afford by way of a genuflection to normalcy. He keeps himself moving briskly, fighting the twin urges to run to his office and the urge to dawdle until his lover catches up.
The Sage within is still watching, and he flags another three watchers and is certain none of them have noticed him. Tonight, safely within the wards that they have both - all unknowingly - layered around their flat, he will compare notes with Lukas.
That night, it is he who speaks in the shadowy twilight. His lover is a picture of sprawled slumber but the faintest violet gleam in the dark betrays his open eyes.
Ken wraps the icy decisiveness of the Sage around his shoulders and makes the points in a cool, clipped tone. "What the Maou wants cannot be permitted. The Mazoku race no longer requires the Shinou to 'parent' it-"
"Or the Sage's guiding hand" Lukas agrees.
"Then our course of action is dictated by what he has done already and what we ultimately hope to achieve." Ken breaks character long enough to grasp Lukas's hand as he puts words to the knowledge they have both shared since the previous day. "If the Maou cannot rule without the Shinou to enforce his decisions, he is not fit to be Maou. The oaths of protection and support are null and void."
There is a silence that makes his doubts surge. This is unprecedented in all Mazoku history.
Then Lukas sighs. "So be it."
Ken braids their fingers together and stares blindly into the darkness. The winter-cold realisation of what they have done making goose-dimples rise on his bare skin.
Lukas can't go back there, doesn't want to go back there, but he feels the chill of it creeping up on him, the diamond edge that slices through the nonsense and all possibility of his own peace.
But even when he looks out and sees only darkness, he knows that someone is there beside him.
"I know," he murmurs, shaky into Ken's ear. "But stay with me. Don't go back there and leave me here by myself." If the Great Sage dons armor and gears for merciless battle then Lukas will have no choice but to take up the sword and crown and follow him. He is so tired of being a hero, but Ken is everything he loves about life and protecting him is different.
The better part of the day is spent in shaken togetherness; he can hardly bear to let go of Ken long enough for meals. Taking comfort in his lover's agitation is probably detestable (the old, old part of him that has stirred is displeased, perhaps at his cowardice and perhaps at his dependence) but the knowledge that even his constant Sage is furious reassures him.
At least if he's going to plunge back into Hell, immerse himself in the Sovereign's territory, he won't go alone.
"We're out of eggs," says Ken in the early evening. "You can't make me that fantastic fried rice if we're out of eggs. I'm going to run to the store--"
"Don't bother," Lukas insists. Moving will feel good after the tension of the day. "I'll go."
It's obvious that Ken isn't thrilled with the idea of letting him go out on his own: even if it's only to the corner store for some eggs. The dark Mazoku wants to protect him. Lukas kisses him a lingering and appreciative goodbye, treasuring this place they have carved for themselves, and doesn't listen to a word of objection.
The eggs are bought without incident but he paces the neighborhood, uncomfortable. It occurs to Lukas once that he could walk away, save Ken from those who are only interested in Lukas's power, but his feet take him back to his flat. It was a stupid thought.
He takes the long way around the butcher's shop, not wanting to see the man who might not even know how he'd betrayed Lukas; a man on the corner near his apartment is dressed plainly as if out for a stroll, but the way he stares from behind narrow lenses makes the blond paranoid. The fact that he stares at everyone, and that he has only the faintest aura to him, is little comfort.
This is no way to live, but he doesn't know what else to do. Stand and fight -- kill himself with this bitterness? Lie down and submit -- even knowing that once would only lead to twice, three times, again? Run away? Never.
He has to go to war again. Slowly the steel is sinking back into his skin, despite his struggles.
That night he lies in bed with his lover tucked against him securely. Lukas watches his even breathing, his serenely closed eyes, the gentle subconscious curl of his fingers against the blond's shoulder. It is a very convincing illusion of unconcerned sleep, but they are both awake.
"Bend your mind to this, o Sage," he murmurs, an echo of the past, in a language that is possibly not known by any other living soul. "This must end."
Thousands of years ago, those words had led to the breaking of the Sovereign. Lukas isn't sure what he expects them to do now, but it always seems that when he is in desperate need and has nowhere else to turn, that is the time when Ken comes through for him.
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A gust of wind stirs the lace curtains, and for a second, the Daikenja of Shin Mazoku looks out through the window, the modern world seeming far more plastic and ephemeral before the personality of Murata Ken reasserts itself. He turns away, the chill of his old life making him shiver. He scoops up one of the cats and runs his mostly steady hand through soft fur.
I don't want to go back to that. He knows that the potential never leaves. He is still the Great Sage and the casual, contented life of Murata Ken, student and lecturer is still only skin deep. The Earth Maou has scratched that veneer and Ken can feel the ice starting to seep up through his secure, happy life.
If this goes on...how much longer will it be before he starts to eye the poisons that this world has in such abundance? Or worse, how much longer until he looks at the Mazoku - and there are more of them around everyday - and doesn't see people but threats to Lukas's safety? How much longer until the Sage's clinical precision reduces everything to the elemental formula of War?
Do you stand with us, or against us?
He is still staring blankly at an empty canvas when Lukas returns. The blond's arms slide around him, under his own and they stand, silent and unmoving. Ken half-closes his eyes and they're standing face-to-face under that tree. The Sovereign's darkness is poisoning the sky and the blond, bright and radiant under the still-strong sun.
It...it makes something inside him hurt. For the first time in this life, he realises that there is no way to return to the kingdom that is and probably always be home. He has a good life here...but still, there is a uncomfortable knot under his heart and he sighs.
Leaving the next day for classes, he is not surprised to see Lukas with Rufus's lead draped over a shoulder, tucking his sketchpad into the battered backpack. He picks up his own briefcase, kisses Lukas and leaves.
Lukas is normally in bed when he leaves in the morning, but he knows that this fractional delay is all that Lukas can afford by way of a genuflection to normalcy. He keeps himself moving briskly, fighting the twin urges to run to his office and the urge to dawdle until his lover catches up.
The Sage within is still watching, and he flags another three watchers and is certain none of them have noticed him. Tonight, safely within the wards that they have both - all unknowingly - layered around their flat, he will compare notes with Lukas.
That night, it is he who speaks in the shadowy twilight. His lover is a picture of sprawled slumber but the faintest violet gleam in the dark betrays his open eyes.
Ken wraps the icy decisiveness of the Sage around his shoulders and makes the points in a cool, clipped tone. "What the Maou wants cannot be permitted. The Mazoku race no longer requires the Shinou to 'parent' it-"
"Or the Sage's guiding hand" Lukas agrees.
"Then our course of action is dictated by what he has done already and what we ultimately hope to achieve." Ken breaks character long enough to grasp Lukas's hand as he puts words to the knowledge they have both shared since the previous day. "If the Maou cannot rule without the Shinou to enforce his decisions, he is not fit to be Maou. The oaths of protection and support are null and void."
There is a silence that makes his doubts surge. This is unprecedented in all Mazoku history.
Then Lukas sighs. "So be it."
Ken braids their fingers together and stares blindly into the darkness. The winter-cold realisation of what they have done making goose-dimples rise on his bare skin.
And now, it is war.
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