fanfiction posting - Of Age, Ch 7 pt. 3
Here is the third part of Chapter 7. I humbly apologize for the incredibly long wait. There should be two more parts of the chapter, depending on how long-winded I decide to get. I had intended to post this one and the next together…but as usual, I was thwarted by entry limits! Curse you, LJ! Enjoy, and please comment.
Title: Of Age
Author: lenainverse
Rating: Hard R (lime and violence/dark scenes)
Pairing: Yuri/Wolfram; now with added Gwendal/Günter goodness!
Genre: Drama/Romance and obscene amounts of angst
Chapter: 7/12 (third part of Chapter 7)
Summary: Demon Law states that on one’s sixteenth birthday, he has to decide what to do with his life. With Yuuri’s birthday just three weeks away, he finds himself filled with uncertainty about which world to call his home.
Comments: Spoilers through 65. X-posted at kyou_kara_maou and kkm_wolframfans.
Previous chapters are here:
Chapters 1-6
Chapter 7 - Part 1
Chapter 7 - Part 2
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Note: This is part 3 of Chapter 7, so if you haven’t read the first two parts…you probably should do that first. See links above. (It seems very weird to post chapters in parts, but when you’re as long-winded as I am, I guess it makes sense. Do you believe this story is over 100,000 words now? I just don’t know when to shut up.) ~_^
Disclaimer: Please note that this story contains scenes with a Lime rating, as well darker materials that are not suitable for children - including strong allusions to sex, violence (rape and torture) and strong emotional turmoil. Please use discretion.
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A heavy fog hung in the cool morning air, hovering over the ground and clinging to the thick vegetation of the forest. A gentle breeze made the mist stir sinuously within the small village of tents, which was just beginning to come alive with the sounds of soldiers awakening and preparing for battle.
Gwendal gave an approving nod as he peered out the flap of his small tent and ran his gaze over the encampment. If nothing else, the weather was cooperating nicely. Although the fog would make it slightly harder to navigate, it also would have the beneficial effect of concealing their presence, and at this point Gwendal was willing to exploit any advantage he possibly could. Truthfully, though, Gwendal suspected that they would have very little trouble getting into Aldrich’s castle. Aldrich needed Yuri close enough to activate Tyrfing - so the real problems would only arise once they were inside.
Gwendal slipped back into the tent, gathering his sword as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Günter. The Royal Advisor had not been sleeping well since setting out from Covenant Castle due to his frenzied worry for his King…and also his anger. Gwendal had never seen Günter so infuriated as when he had initially learned that Wolfram had left the Castle without permission and gotten captured, that His Majesty wished to go after him, and that His Highness was going to allow it. Günter had wisely waited until the two of them were safely alone together before voicing his displeasure; Gwendal had silently listened while Günter had ranted about Wolfram’s irresponsibility and the Sage’s permissiveness, and how he would never forgive either of them if anything happened to Yuri.
Günter hid his vexation well, though, and Gwendal suspected that no one else was aware of it. Most everyone thought that Günter wore his heart on his sleeve and was easily readable, when in fact nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, Günter tended to be unabashedly vocal about some things, but there was also another side to him - a side that, while equally as impassioned as the one he showed to the world, was also darker and a bit untamed. It was a side that few were permitted to see.
Gwendal was one of those few, so he knew fully well that Günter was angry. Despite his feelings, though, Günter had enough sense to keep his opinions to himself while others were present. Unlike some others that Gwendal could mention, Günter knew that sometimes, personal feelings had to be put aside in order for one to do his duty.
Gwendal exited the tent in silence, knowing that Günter would awaken soon enough as the soldiers began to ready themselves for the journey today. The sounds of blades scraping against whetstone and the clanging of armor being hammered out and adjusted were already beginning to echo throughout the wood, and before long there would be enough noise to wake the dead. In the meantime, though, he would let Günter get as much sleep as he could. This day would be incredibly long and trying…at best.
It was a very short distance to the King’s tent, and Gwendal could already hear voices inside - including, he noted with dismay, one with a distinctly feminine inflection.
Gwendal paused outside of the entrance to the King’s tent, trying not to allow a scowl to form on his face. This situation was perilous enough without placing their lives in the hands of a human woman - Aldrich’s twin, no less - and Gwendal couldn’t help but be resentful of his complete lack of control over the circumstances. But even if he thought that Yuri was being recklessly impetuous in his decisions, he was ultimately left with no option but to allow Yuri to handle the situation as he saw fit - foolish though Gwendal thought the decision was.
He admittedly didn’t know whether the Duchess was being truthful with them or not, but in his eyes, it was of little consequence. Either way, it did not change the fact that Alessandra’s presence created another complication in a situation that already contained far too many unpredictable elements for Gwendal’s taste. She was a threat at worst, and an impediment at best. At either end of the spectrum, she was a hindrance - yet one more thing that could blow up in their faces. Yuri certainly trusted her; but then, Yuri would place his trust in an assassin who had just plunged a knife into his back. While it was true that Yuri’s boundless generosity had brought about many positive changes in the Great Demon Kingdom, Gwendal knew that it would only be a matter of time before someone decided to exploit that trait and use it against Yuri.
It was exactly the sort of thing that a cunning, manipulative man like Aldrich Silke would do.
However, worrisome and potentially disastrous as this situation was at present, wishes and laments would not change it. The only thing for Gwendal to do was to find a way that the circumstances could be shifted in his favor. And, distasteful as he personally found the idea, the best strategy for doing that was to use the Duchess as leverage, if it came to that.
Gwendal was not entirely certain, after what the Duchess had said last night, that her husband would try to save her if her life were threatened. The Duchess did not love her husband…Gwendal had believed that much of her story. No amount of good acting could make someone speak with such indifference about their mate, if they loved them.
But even if the Duke would not try to save Alessandra’s life, Gwendal was reasonably certain that her brother would. Aldrich was a cruel monster who placed little or no value on human life…but Gwendal knew, after seeing what Aldrich had done to his sister, that he would not allow the Demons to take her life. The fact that Aldrich had tortured Alessandra as he had done indicated to Gwendal that Aldrich had a very deep connection with his sister; a desire for absolute control over her, body and spirit. Aldrich would never allow Alessandra to die except by his own hand - for her to die in any other fashion would be the ultimate violation of that control.
It was the sickest, most twisted and grotesque form of love Gwendal had ever seen, but it was still love in Aldrich’s mind. And Aldrich would not allow what he considered to be his to be taken away, especially by the Demon Tribe.
Of course, that strategy was to be used as a last resort. Yuri had sworn to protect the Duchess, and, like it or not, Gwendal had a responsibility to live up to the promise that his King had made…so long as Yuri’s safety was not compromised. So if Alessandra made no move to harm Yuri, then Gwendal would uphold His King’s word as if it were his own.
And, if he were to be honest with himself, Gwendal did not have any wish to harm the girl unless there was no other option open to him. Even if he did not trust Alessandra, she was as much a victim of Aldrich Silke as any of them; more so. Gwendal strongly suspected that if she had sought out Yuri under her brother’s instructions, that she had agreed under the most extreme duress.
Hearing a short burst of laughter within the King’s tent, Gwendal finally reached out and opened the flap, already knowing the scene that would meet his eyes before he saw it.
As expected, His Majesty and His Highness were seated at the breakfast table with a reasonably large meal laid out before them. The Duchess was seated across from Yuri, and Conrart was standing close by. Yuri was in the middle of describing to the Duchess the story of how he had come to adopt Greta after she had attempted to kill him, an amused yet wistful smile on his face as he gestured emphatically with his hands.
Gwendal frowned slightly - he dearly wished that Yuri would refrain from revealing such personal information to someone who might well be their enemy. If Wolfram was to be rescued safely but Aldrich later discovered that Yuri had a daughter, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to use the information to his own ends.
Regardless of that, Gwendal was quite pleased to find that Yuri was in good spirits. He didn’t have the slightest inclination as to why the King’s mood had improved so suddenly and drastically last night, but it was heartening to see him acting mostly like himself again. There was still a hint of sadness in the young King’s eyes, but it was a far cry from the despondent state he’d been in not twelve hours before.
Conrart gave Gwendal a nod as he stepped into the tent, but his presence went unnoticed by those seated at the table as Yuri continued to regale the Duchess with his story. Yuri spoke in his typical animated and charming way, seeming determined to make his guest more comfortable in her surroundings. Yuri always reveled in caring for others and protecting them, but the only consideration he ever gave himself involved risking his life. Gwendal didn’t know whether to call that chivalrous or foolhardy.
Despite Yuri’s efforts, though, the Duchess had a rather sorrowful air about her. She chuckled politely as Yuri spoke, smiling at him from across the table, but the emotion seemed forced and artificial. Her small smile could almost appear insincere, as ill-matched as it was with the rest of her demeanor. That was one trait she and her brother shared: a physical appearance that was incompatible with the temperament of the person within.
Alessandra was dressed in men’s clothing as that had been the only thing available, but the simple earth-toned trousers and tunic did not seem out of place on her. The cut was too broad in the shoulders and too wide at the waist, but a thin belt she wore somehow managed to make the clothing emphasize her feminine figure rather than detract from it. The high collar and long sleeves of the tunic hid her scars almost completely, and her long red hair was pulled into a braid which stretched the length of her back, ending nearly at her hips.
Physically, the girl was lovely - likely, her mother had been chosen as Freie Stadt’s Queen precisely because of the beauty that her daughter now displayed. But that fact only made Gwendal all the more wary of Alessandra. Beautiful women who told compelling and sympathetic tales of a life of misery and subsequently tried to get into the King’s bed, Gwendal had found, rarely had pure intentions.
“Oh! Good morning, Gwendal. I didn’t see you come in,” Yuri said cheerfully.
“Good morning, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” Gwendal replied, giving a small bow in their direction. His eyes met the Sage’s for a moment, and Gwendal noted with relief that His Highness seemed much refreshed this morning. Still, the look in His Highness’ dark eyes was one of deep concern. He was trying to appear calm for Yuri’s sake, but his message to Gwendal was quite clear: ‘do not lower your guard for a moment.’
Gwendal wondered what the Sage knew that would give him the need to reinforce something that already went without saying. The thought made him shift his gaze toward Alessandra, who was looking at him with cautious deference. It was probably an appropriate expression, considering he had almost run her through last night. Her eyes seemed to convey her awareness that Gwendal had not yet entirely dismissed that notion.
“Duchess,” Gwendal acknowledged, trying his best to sound marginally respectful.
“Good morning, My Lord. I apologize, but it appears that I do not know your proper title.”
Gwendal paused, reluctant to give her his name. He would much prefer that Aldrich not be aware that he, Günter and Wolfram represented a substantial portion of the Ten Aristocrats. Being known simply as the King’s guards, or the King’s consort in Wolfram’s case, made them far less useful to Aldrich.
Fortunately, Yuri interrupted before Gwendal was forced to respond. “There’s no need for formality, Alessandra,” he told her, still smiling away. “Feel free to call everyone by their first names.”
The Duchess simply stared, as if such a thing was completely unheard of where she had come from. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
The Sage chuckled as Yuri shook his head in exasperation. “Don’t call me that,” Yuri beseeched her. “I already have enough people who insist upon referring to me that way,” he said with a pointed glare at Conrart, who simply gave Yuri his characteristic smile.
Yuri turned back to his guest, his friendly smile returning. “Please, it’s Yuri.”
Alessandra blinked at her host in bewilderment for a short moment, but then managed a slight smile. “Very well. Yuri.”
Gwendal cleared his throat, hoping that the conversation could progress beyond appellations and on to more urgent matters. “Apologies, Your Majesty,” he said, ignoring Yuri’s scowl at Gwendal’s purposeful use of his title, “but we really must focus on retrieving your fiancé.
“If I might inquire, Duchess,” he continued, turning his gaze to Alessandra, “as to what help you can be in this endeavor?”
Alessandra met his stare evenly, her apprehensive and uncomfortable look vanishing as her eyes filled with the sheer determination that she had exhibited the night before. “I can lead you to the dungeon, where he is being kept, without having to confront my brother.”
“With respect, Duchess,” Conrart began, “I do not believe that your brother will allow us to retreat without a confrontation.”
“It is true, he did capture Yuri’s fiancé in order to provoke Yuri into fighting him, but it would…be in your best interest to avoid that.”
“Are you meaning not to tell us of his sword, or of the Prophecy that speaks to it?” Gwendal asked deliberately, giving the Duchess a sharp look. She seemed surprised for a brief moment, but quickly assumed an expression of realization.
“Not at all,” she replied, undaunted by Gwendal’s incredulity. “I merely assumed that you would think our Prophecy to be utter nonsense. So long as Yuri does not have to confront Aldrich, the Prophecy and the sword are immaterial to getting his fiancé safely out of the Castle. I thought that time spent trying to convince you of the sword’s power would be time wasted.”
“That’s quite comforting, I’m sure,” Gwendal growled, fully aware that he was being outright disrespectful, “but I would just as soon be made aware of all of the information you have, in case your dubious and ill-conceived plans should go awry.”
“Gwendal!” Yuri snapped, rising from his seat, “She can’t give us any information at all if you don’t let her talk.”
Gwendal bit back a scathing retort, fighting his instinct to forcibly throw the deceptive woman out of the tent. She had just confirmed Gwendal’s suspicions of her by withholding vital information, and yet Yuri still was willing to trust her. This had to be one of the most irrational and senseless decisions in the history of the office of the Demon King.
However, Yuri was still the King. So, with great difficulty, Gwendal swallowed his irritation and addressed the Duchess again, this time with a somewhat forced reverence. “My sincere apologies, Duchess.”
Alessandra gave Gwendal a wry smile, which, for the first time, did not seem unfitting on her face. “Think nothing of it. Were I in your position, I would not trust me, either.” She turned to Yuri, her smile becoming sincere. “You are fortunate to have such devoted subjects in your service.”
Yuri returned the smile, taking his seat again. “They’re not my subjects; they are my friends. Even if we do disagree at times.”
“Well, then your friend is correct that I should be more forthcoming,” Alessandra told her host, “and I should be delighted to answer any questions you have about the Prophecy or the sword, to the best of my knowledge.”
“In that case,” the Sage cut in, “I should very much like to know how the sword is used.” Gwendal took in His Highness’ pensive expression, realizing that he was feigning ignorance about Tyrfing in order to see how much Aldrich knew about Its powers.
“First, you must understand that my brother firmly believes that it is his fate to destroy the Demons with that blade,” the Duchess said with a sigh. “I have never discovered the exact reason why he so fervently believes this, but I know that he has unwavering determination to meet that goal. He even went so far as to dissolve his Royal Council because they questioned the wisdom of pursuing something so dangerous.
“But to answer your question, Your Highness, I am not entirely certain how the sword is used. No one is. The Prophecy merely states that the sword gives its wielder the ability to ‘slay the Demons’ and that it repels Demon magic in some way, but it has never been tested because it was not activated until last evening.”
Gwendal kept his expression carefully neutral as he listened to the Duchess, and briefly looked over to lock his eyes with His Highness’. For the first time since Wolfram had been taken, the Sage appeared relieved: if Alessandra’s information was correct, it could mean that Aldrich did not know how the sword was to be used; that it could not only repel magic, but also use it offensively.
Yuri let out a shocked gasp as Alessandra’s statement sunk in. “Does this mean…Aldrich performed the Ritual on you?” Alessandra’s gaze slipped down to the table, and she nodded slowly, seeming ashamed to admit it. Yuri reached out to place his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “Is that why you were bleeding last night?” he asked her softly.
Alessandra hesitated for a brief moment, looking all the more uncomfortable at being touched. “Part of the reason.”
There was a heavy silence in the tent, everyone knowing exactly what had remained unsaid. The Duchess shifted in her seat awkwardly, but then she raised her eyes and spoke in a calming tone, “do not concern your self with it, Yuri. Your healer bandaged the wounds; they will heal quickly.”
Gwendal noticed that nobody was making any attempt to inform the Duchess that the Ritual had been a lie, made up by the Original King’s advisors many centuries ago. He supposed that it was pointless to bring it up now that it had already taken place. Besides, telling her that her pain had been for naught would be cruel, and would accomplish nothing.
Yuri gave Alessandra a shaky smile, but then the smile fell as he retracted his arm. “Are you sure that you want to lead us in there? I mean, what if your brother catches you helping us? You might be safer staying here until we get back…”
“No,” Alessandra interrupted with a firm voice. “I must go with you. The lower corridors are a complicated labyrinth and if you became lost, it would be disastrous. Besides, I will hardly be able to elicit change by hiding and cowering in fear. If I am to help my people, I must take action.”
“I see your point,” Yuri said cautiously, “but I don’t want you to be hurt any further.”
The Duchess made a dismissive gesture. “Do not worry. It would be considered treason for the guards to hurt me. They would likely assume that I was your captive.” Yuri opened his mouth, likely ready to protest that it was not the guards that worried him, but he paused as he caught the pained look on Alessandra’s face, which pleaded that he not pursue the subject any further.
“So Aldrich has never before used the sword,” the Sage started in an obvious but much appreciated ploy to change the subject. “It is possible, then, that we have nothing to fear.”
“I’m afraid that I don’t quite catch your meaning,” Alessandra muttered, a puzzled expression on her face. “Although, now that the subject has arisen, Your Highness, I wonder why you are so anxious about one blade. You are surrounded by skilled swordsman, and you have magic on your side. It seems to me that even a swordsman with as much fighting prowess as my brother would be no problem to fend off. Prophecy states that the blade will bring about the slaying of the Demons, but you all hardly have any reason to place any credence in human Prophecy.”
Gwendal tensed just slightly; if Alessandra was correct and Aldrich did not have complete knowledge of Tyrfing’s powers, then it was crucial that the information not reach his ears. Silence enveloped the tent once again, as none of the occupants seemed eager to answer Alessandra’s question; even Yuri seemed to be aware that it was dangerous to reveal the truth. The Duchess looked from one face to the next, a strangely pensive expression on her face, as if she knew that something was deliberately being withheld.
Thankfully, at that moment Günter stumbled into the tent, a hasty and anxious expression on his face. At once, complete chaos erupted. Günter immediately began falling over himself in apology for oversleeping, repeatedly assuring the King that it would never happen again. Yuri became rather jumpy, rising from his seat and barely dodging as Günter attempted a lunging hug, all the while reassuring Günter that nothing bad had happened while he was sleeping. The Duchess and His Highness were forced to leap out of the way as Günter continued to dive toward the King, practically in tears.
In spite of himself, Gwendal actually smirked at the display. Günter had many excellent qualities, but none so obliging as his remarkable sense of timing. Before things could become too unmanageable, though, Gwendal took it upon himself to end the madness. “Well, then. If everyone is prepared, I believe that it is time we set out. If the Duchess has more information to share, perhaps we can discuss it during the journey.” There was a murmur of assent, and then Conrart escorted His Majesty, His Highness, and the Duchess out of the tent to prepare for the ride ahead.
Günter paused beside the entryway of the tent, giving Gwendal a half smile. Gwendal noticed that the man looked flawless as usual, in stark contrast to the rest of them who were each slightly rumpled, at the very least, from travel. If there had ever been a time when Günter looked anything less than impeccable, Gwendal couldn’t recall it.
“You’re quite welcome,” Günter said, with no small amount of smugness. Then, he turned and, with a flip of his lavender hair, was gone.
As he stared at the inside of the tent flap, Gwendal didn’t bother to hide the expression on his face; too derisive to be a smile, yet too warm for a smirk. The look soured as he exited, though, his mind turning to far the more somber thought of the journey ahead.
It turned out that the discussion of Aldrich and his sword ended in the King’s tent, being that no one seemed eager for Alessandra to again begin asking questions that they could not answer. Instead, Yuri continued what seemed an unending quest to make Alessandra smile, making small talk about anything humorous he could think of. He was undeterred by the fact that Alessandra was rather resistant to his attempts, although she at least tried to be appropriately polite.
The Sage and Yuri rode together, flanked by Conrart and Günter, who were on foot. Gwendal remained close to the Duchess, walking beside her horse and careful to keep himself strategically placed between her and the King. The rest of the soldiers, two squads of the elite guards totaling about a dozen men, marched behind in silence.
Aldrich’s Castle was just beginning to come into view when Gwendal felt it - the very beginning of a swimming ache in his head, his stomach knotting just slightly. He looked over at Günter, who agreed with a nod that they were beginning to feel the effects of Esoteric Magic. As the Castle drew closer, the effects increased substantially, the continual waves of nausea making Gwendal quite glad that he hadn’t bothered to eat breakfast.
By the time they reached the outer limits of the city, the human magic was so strong that Gwendal was beginning to become winded by walking alongside Alessandra’s horse, the cramping pain in his abdomen making drawing breath increasingly difficult, while his head was pounding with every beat of his heart.
“Ugh,” Gwendal heard the King groan from atop his horse. He looked up to see Yuri rubbing his stomach with the hand that was not holding on to His Highness.
“Your Majesty, are you all right?” Conrart asked.
“Yeah…I think so. I guess breakfast wasn’t such a good idea if I was going to be riding this much,” he said, giving a rather weak smile.
Gwendal exchanged a glance with Günter, then Conrart, both of them seeming surprised and concerned. It appeared that Yuri was feeling the effects of human magic…even though he never had before. Could it be that the magic was strong enough for even Yuri to feel it?
But then Gwendal caught the emphatic look that His Highness cast at him, and he realized what was happening to the King. If the seal on Yuri’s magic was deteriorating, then it only made sense that he would feel the effects of Esoteric Magic, as all other full Demons did. Luckily, though, it did not appear that Yuri felt the effects as strongly as did Gwendal and Günter, for he appeared somewhat queasy, but did not look to be in any pain. Gwendal found himself silently thankful that the seal was, apparently, still somewhat intact, because Yuri simply did not have the constitution to endure the full effects, as strong as they were.
“Your Excellency!” called a voice from behind them, and Gwendal turned to look to the soldiers, but needed to close his eyes briefly to steady himself from the dizzying effect of turning.
Only one of the soldiers had collapsed, but the rest of them looked to be, at minimum, contemplating the idea. Gwendal cursed under his breath as he walked back toward the men; he hadn’t considered that the power level would be so high as to stop the guards in their tracks. He had warned the guards of human magic and its effects, but being that none of them had experienced it directly before, they seemed unable to handle such concentrated power.
It appeared that there was no possible way that the soldiers could accompany them, so Gwendal relieved them and sent them back to the encampment to await his return. The men looked stricken that they were being sent back, unable to accomplish their purpose, but none seemed willing or able to continue.
“Is everything quite alright?” Alessandra asked as Gwendal resumed his position beside her horse.
Gwendal kept his expression carefully neutral. He could not afford to let the Duchess know that the men were so affected by the Esoteric Magic. “Indeed. A mild case of heat exhaustion, I’m afraid. However, I decided that, if we are to infiltrate the lower levels without being seen, then it would be to our detriment to have a large squad of soldiers with us. Stealth is far preferable to numbers, in this instance.”
“Ah,” Alessandra replied, seemingly convinced. “Well, I would suggest that we leave the horses here. The back entrance to the Castle is just that way,” she announced, gesturing to the Northwest.
Conrart helped Yuri down from the horse, and he stood still for a moment, swaying slightly, his face taking on an unhealthy pallor. Once the Sage and the Duchess had dismounted and the horses’ reins were safely tied around a nearby tree branch, though, Yuri set his jaw in determination.
“Let’s go,” he declared, indicating for Alessandra to lead them on.
As he began to follow the Duchess toward her brother’s Castle, a question rose in Gwendal’s mind, making him feel ill in a far different way than did the magic that surrounded him: what in the Hells did Aldrich have in that Castle…and what was it doing to Wolfram?
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Conrart crept along beside Yuri, who looked as if he might become ill at any moment. Ahead of them, Conrart could tell that Gwendal and Günter were not faring much better, the slight drag in their steps and the barely audible labored quality to their breathing indicating that the human magic was causing them quite a bit of discomfort. His Highness, who was on Yuri’s other side, met Conrart’s eyes for a moment, the shared glance communicating volumes of apprehension.
During the past few minutes, Conrart had repeatedly cursed himself for not anticipating that Yuri would be vulnerable to the effects of Esoteric Magic. It was so obvious when he thought about it - of course, with the state of the seal on his magic being so fragile, there were bound to be some other effects. Conrart wondered briefly if the Sage had known that this would happen - His Highness had seemed concerned, but not particularly surprised when Yuri began to complain of feeling ill.
Once the small party had passed the outer walls of the city, Conrart realized why the human magic was affecting them so greatly: Aldrich had placed a significant number of the magic stones all along the city walls. It was likely an attempt to keep Demons out of the city - with the exception of Yuri, who Aldrich would assume to still be immune to the effects of the human magic. Certainly there would be no risk of invasion by the armies of the Great Demon Kingdom so long as such powerful magic was active along the walls.
Aldrich’s strategy seemed to be achieving the desired effects quite well: the soldiers that had come with them had been forced to turn back, and Gwendal and Günter were not going to be able to fight to the fullest of their abilities. Conrart found himself slightly angry at how well Aldrich had managed to stack the decks in his favor.
The only advantage that they had at the moment was Alessandra. Conrart was incredibly hesitant to assume that she was not yet another part of Aldrich’s plan to confront and defeat Yuri, but he couldn’t help but hope that her intentions were genuine. If not, then they were in a lot of trouble - and so was Wolfram.
With all the uncertainty of the situation, Conrart’s training told him to be cautious and deliberate in his actions. But the constant fear of what might be happening to his brother urged Conrart to hurry, to rush headlong into the Castle despite the danger. If he had only his own life to consider, he’d have done just that.
Alessandra led them along one of the back walls of the Castle, slowly making their way toward the entrance that she had said was the quickest way to get to Wolfram. Alessandra had pulled her cloak over her face as they came near the Castle, and Conrart found himself pondering what that action meant, given her comments about how the guards would not harm her. His attention to her every gesture and nuance was almost painfully acute - at the first sign that she intended to betray Yuri’s trust, she would have to be subdued by whatever means necessary. Conrart didn’t think that he had removed his hand from the hilt of his sword since she had suddenly appeared last night. And now that the Esoteric magic was effecting Gwendal and Günter so significantly, Conrart knew that he would have to be the one to act if something should happen. His brother and Günter both had incredible willpower and could surely endure the pain of the magical effects, but their senses were undoubtedly dulled by illness and their reaction would be slower.
Conrart had noted that there didn’t seem to be any guards in their immediate area, nor in the upper battlements. Granted, there were very few entrances on this side of the Castle, but it was still concerning. There was no chance that Aldrich had forgotten to post sentries here - if there were no guards, it was surely intentional.
The Duchess gestured for the party to stop as they came to a corner, and Yuri leaned back against the stone wall and let out a very soft groan, his eyes falling shut. Conrart laid a hand on Yuri’s shoulder in concern, and it appeared that Yuri had to put a substantial amount of effort into the act of opening his eyes again.
Alessandra peered quickly around the corner, and then turned back toward the rest of them. She spotted Yuri looking drained and weakened against the wall, and frowned. “It is the magic, isn’t it?” she whispered.
Conrart tensed, preparing to step between the Duchess and Yuri. If she were planning to attack Yuri, the most opportune time would be now, when he was weakened by the effects of the Esoteric Magic. Conrart searched her face for any sign of menacing intent, but her concern did not appear to be a façade. Alessandra was either the most skilled and believable liar in all the world, or she was genuinely worried.
Yuri stood straight again, forming an expression of resolve that was, to Conrart’s surprise, moderately convincing. “No, I’m fine. Please, let’s keep going.”
Alessandra gave Yuri a troubled glance, but then turned to resume their path along the wall of the Castle, toward where she had said the entrance would be. Conrart was worried by Yuri’s determination to continue despite feeling ill, but he knew that Yuri would never agree to retreat. Conrart imagined that, as sick as Yuri appeared at present, he would be in a much worse state if they failed to rescue Wolfram.
Conrart suppressed a shudder, the very thought of his younger brother being lost to them making him feel rather ill himself. Out of necessity, he pushed the pain from the forefront of his mind, just as he had been doing since Wolfram was taken. Yuri needed him, and he could not afford to let his grief cloud his judgment.
Alessandra peeked out from behind the wall again and then disappeared around the corner, motioning for the others to follow. Gwendal was nearest to her, and he quickly looked around the corner after her before gesturing that it seemed safe. Everyone followed in a single-file line, trying to stay as near to the wall as possible. It was only another fifty paces to the entrance, which was recessed into the wall, blocking the actual door from their view. Alessandra had told them that there should be two sentries posted there, but that they could expect far more resistance once they entered the corridors.
There was a blur of movement just as they rounded the corner - a soldier leapt out of the alcove, lunging towards them. Conrart, Gwendal and Günter each drew their weapons, but the soldier happened to be much closer to Alessandra, as she had been leading them. He flew towards her, not realizing that he was about to attack the Duchess, whose identity was well concealed by her heavy cloak.
To Conrart’s astonishment, Alessandra leaned into the attack, deflecting the soldier’s hand with a quick upward motion of her arm. Stepping in further and using the soldier’s inertia against him, she thrust her knee into his stomach, and then elbowed him in the back of the head once he doubled over. Everyone stared in shock for the briefest of moments, but quickly recovered as Alessandra dashed into the alcove at a dead run, not slowed at all by the attempted assault.
Conrart followed her after sharing a glace with Gwendal, both of them quickly deciding that Conrart should act since he was in the best position to fight. He turned the corner just in time to see a second soldier, this one armed with a long, curved knife in his raised hand, running out from the shadows to attack the Duchess. She leaned backwards and turned as the knife whistled past her, but was not so fortunate the second time. The soldier swiped at her again, the blade slicing shallowly through her upper arm. The soldier pulled out a second knife and barely managed to get it aloft in time to block Conrart’s attack. The two men stood there, locked in combat, pushing against the other’s blade with all their might…until Alessandra grabbed one of the soldier’s hands and pulled it away. She turned, twisting his arm behind his back and grabbing the knife out of his fingers when the pain loosened his grip. Conrart easily disposed of the soldier’s second knife with a quick jerk of his blade, and the next moment, Alessandra had her newly acquired weapon against the soldier’s throat.
“Disarm the door,” she said in his ear, her voice clear and strong.
The blood drained from the soldier’s face. “…Princess?”
Conrart blinked at the epithet. Why would the guard still address her by her former title, when she was now married to the Duke? Of course, there were much more important matters that required his attention right then, so the flash of confusion was gone quickly.
The Duchess paid his question no mind. “Disarm it now, or I shall cleave your throat open.” The soldier nodded silently, appearing to be far less concerned about the knife at his throat than he was about who was holding it. He touched the wall of the alcove, pushing on one of the stones until it sank into the wall, then reaching into the newly created opening and grasped something inside. Conrart heard a sharp click and then the turning of unseen gears.
Alessandra moved back, releasing the soldier from her grasp. He turned and dropped to the ground, offering her a humble bow.
“Princess, please…stop this,” he begged her in a mournful tone. Alessandra looked away, her expression pained.
“If you please,” she said, indicating the soldier with her hand. Conrart caught her meaning and quickly jammed the hilt of his sword into the crown of the soldier’s head. The guard fell limply to the ground, unconscious.
Conrart stared at the Duchess, unsure whether to be relieved or troubled by the knowledge that she had some fighting skills. Judging by her form and speed, she had likely been formally trained at some point. This meant that she was far more dangerous than any of them had anticipated, and it was alarming that everyone had underestimated her so completely. Only one man had been guarding her last night; had she wanted to, she likely could have dispatched him and made an attempt on Yuri’s life. Her fighting skills were no match for Conrart’s, Gwendal’s, or Günter’s, but she would have had the element of surprise on her side, which might have given her just enough of an advantage to pull off an assassination right under their very noses. It was a wholly chilling prospect.
But she hadn’t tried to hurt Yuri, even having been given countless opportunities to do so thus far. Not only that, but she had just had the soldier disarm what was undoubtedly a trap that would trigger when the door was opened, which would have been yet another chance for her to take action against Yuri and the rest of them. And also, if she had been trying to hide her abilities in order to attack Yuri when it was least expected, she had just negated that possibility because her skills were now fully apparent. The more Conrart thought about her actions, the more her intentions seemed pure.
After a moment, the rest of the party hurried into the alcove, Yuri rushing over to Alessandra with a worried expression. She quickly tossed the knife aside, in the opposite direction of where Yuri was running from, giving Conrart a knowing glance and making him even more surprised. Alessandra seemed determined to avoid even the slightest appearance of being threatening, consciously giving them every reason to trust her.
“I am fine,” the Duchess said quickly as Yuri opened his mouth, obviously about to ask if she was all right. “It is only a superficial wound. I was quite lucky.”
Yuri stood beside her, an almost awed look on his face. “I didn’t know you could fight like that.”
Alessandra turned toward the door and shrugged. “My father began my training when I was young. He had hoped that I would be able to defend myself,” she said, failing completely at being nonchalant. “I hope that you are not angry with me for hiding this from you, Yuri, but I feared that you would not trust me otherwise.”
Yuri shook his head, trying his best to smile despite his queasiness. “Not at all. I’m just glad that you’re not too badly hurt.”
The Duchess returned the smile. “As I said, I was lucky. Now, let us proceed. Please be cautious - once the guards realize that we have made it past the rigged outer door, they will converge quickly. Follow me closely.” With that, she marched forward and pushed open the heavy door, peering inside briefly before entering. Conrart stepped back as Gwendal and Günter swept past him and through the doorway, leaving Conrart to protect Yuri and the Sage.
Just as the Duchess had warned, there was quite a bit of resistance from the guards once they were inside. However, the attacks were spread out enough that there were only two or three guards to deal with at any one time, which presented only minor problems for them. The soldiers were clearly not the most experienced; Conrart figured that Aldrich had his elites by his side, rather than guarding the lower levels.
Alessandra had been quite accurate in her depiction of the lower corridors; they were incredibly complex. Conrart was having a little trouble keeping track of their path, divided as his attention was between the frequent attacks from guards, Yuri’s illness, and the complexity of their trek through the Castle. But Alessandra did not hesitate even for a moment as she led them with confidence through the halls, never once having to stop and question the location of a hidden door or which path to take when a fork came upon them.
A short time but many turns later, Alessandra led them into a hallway that obviously contained the holding cells, and Gwendal easily defeated the two guards who were keeping watch after taking them by surprise. Alessandra reached down and tugged the keys from the unconscious guards’ belt, her eyes gleaming in the torchlight as she pushed her hood away from her face.
“This way,” she whispered, turning and rushing silently down the hallway of cells, as if more afraid of being heard in this hallway than any previous. She stopped before the heavy steel door of the last cell in the row. She unlocked the door, causing a high-pitched creaking as the door swung open on its rusted hinges, and then stepped into the room. Yuri pushed past everyone and into the cell, his brow creased with anxiety.
Conrart looked in after them, wrinkling his nose at the rotted smell emanating throughout the cell. A small amount of sunlight shone through a tiny window that was near to the ceiling, illuminating the patches of blood and vomit that dotted the floor. Yuri let out a choked gasp as he took in the sight and smell, clearly shaken by the implications of all the blood.
“Damn,” Alessandra cursed as her eyes searched the empty room. “Aldrich has taken him elsewhere.”
Günter came up next to her, eyes widening at the blood spattered across the stone floor. “Is it possible that he noticed your absence and anticipated that you would lead us here?”
Alessandra shook her head forcefully. “It is unlikely that anyone would have discovered that I was missing before now. I spend most nights alone in my chambers. It is not even mid-morning yet, so it would be expected that I would still be in bed. And surely, if it had been noticed, patrols would be searching the area and we would have been found outside the city walls.”
“If he had known that we would come to this part of the Castle, Aldrich would have planned to take us by surprise,” Gwendal noted pensively, “but the attacks that we faced were disorganized and random - decidedly not part of any sort of strategy. It seems plausible that Aldrich moved Wolfram for some other reason.”
“Then I would suggest that we wake the guard and ask where Wolfram was taken,” His Highness advised. “I doubt that Aldrich would have carried a prisoner himself…he would have instructed his guards to do something like that.”
With a murmur of agreement, everyone began to exit the cell. Conrart looked behind him, noticing that Yuri was making no move to leave. Yuri was standing in the center of the cell, staring down at one of the larger pools of blood, the glossy surface indicating that it had been formed fairly recently. His eyes were widened in horror as he looked down at the blood, as if he was for the first time comprehending what had actually happened to Wolfram in that very room.
“Yuri?” Conrart asked softly. Yuri blinked numbly in response, and then his eyes widened further and his hands flew up to cover his mouth. He rushed over to a corner, leaning over and heaving out the contents of his stomach with a violent retching sound.
Conrart hurried over to Yuri, understanding his reaction. There was a huge difference between Yuri knowing, intellectually, that his fiancé was being hurt and actually seeing the evidence of it with his own eyes. Conrart held out a handkerchief, rubbing Yuri’s back lightly and waiting for Yuri’s shaking to subside. Yuri pressed a hand against the wall for support and shut his eyes, but he grasped the cloth as Conrart put it into his hand. Yuri wiped at his mouth as tears built at the corners of his closed eyes.
“He must have been through so much pain,” Yuri choked out. “It must have been so horrible for him, laying here and waiting to die, thinking that he would never see home again.”
The anguished look on Yuri’s face was almost too much for Conrart to take. He could practically feel Yuri’s pain as it radiated around him, so intense and palpable that he feared that Yuri might be consumed by it.
Conrart called Yuri’s name again, alarmed when Yuri did not answer. With a hint of desperation, Conrart reached out and cupped Yuri’s chin, rotating his head and forcing their eyes to meet as Yuri’s tear-filled eyes opened.
“Yuri. Listen to me,” he instructed firmly. “Wolfram will never give up. He will fight, with every breath, for the chance to see you again - just as you must fight. His scars can only be healed if you are strong enough to help him heal. I know it hurts, but you have to look past the pain for now.”
It was probably only a few seconds before Yuri responded, but to Conrart it felt far longer. Yuri stood straight, his tormented expression fading, his resolve returning. His eyes, though still filled with unshed tears, were filled with purpose, and Conrart thought that he had never seen Yuri look more regal - even surrounded by an environment that was permeated with the stench of death, Yuri was able to endow it with light and hope.
“Yuri, Lord Weller,” called His Highness’ voice from the doorway. Conrart turned, wondering how long the Sage had been watching. “We have discovered where Wolfram was taken.”
“Where is he?” Yuri asked steadily.
The Sage gave a half-smile at Yuri’s tone. “We were unable to wake the guard, but one of the men who was on patrol came by and we…questioned him. He insisted that King Aldrich had the prisoner transported to his throne room.”
Conrart’s blood ran cold at the statement. This was exactly what he had feared: there would be no rescuing Wolfram without confronting Aldrich. Somehow, Aldrich had known exactly when they were coming, and had prevented them from accomplishing their goal without willingly placing themselves directly in his path. And now, he was waiting for Yuri to come to him.
“Well, then,” Yuri said gravely as he started for the door, “what are we standing around here for?” He was stopped short when Gwendal reached out and grabbed Yuri’s shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. Yuri pushed against him uselessly, trying to find some way past, but Gwendal held his ground.
“Your Majesty, I cannot prevent you from going to face King Aldrich. But before I allow you to pass, I must ask you for your word that you will not, under any circumstances, release your magic.” Gwendal looked down at his King, his worry and protectiveness showing through despite his obvious efforts to hold them back.
Yuri met his gaze unwaveringly as he answered. “I will do whatever is necessary to get Wolfram back.”
“No! I cannot allow this!” Günter’s voice was raised, but he was obviously taking care to keep himself controlled so as not to bring more soldiers running. “Your Majesty, you must promise. It is not out of callous disregard for Wolfram’s life that we ask this of you; it is out of concern for yours. If you release your magic, you release the power of the sword, and then not even we can protect you. Just this one promise, that is all we ask.” Yuri looked at Günter’s face, seeming surprised at the severe, unrelenting expression that the lavender-haired man wore. Likely, Yuri had expected to see tears, but there were none.
Yuri addressed his two advisors softly, with patience and compassion. “And you must understand: it is not out of disregard for my own life that I refuse you. I have no wish to throw my life away needlessly. But if I fail to do everything in my power to save him - then, even if I survive, there will be nothing left of me. I don’t ask that you agree with my decision; but I am certain that you can understand why I am making it.
“Now, please…let me pass.”
Günter and Gwendal both looked down at Yuri with a mixture of resentment and respect. Gwendal released Yuri from his grasp, and abruptly turned, slowly and deliberately drawing his sword. When he finally spoke, Conrart couldn’t be sure whether to call his tone embittered or mournful.
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Yuri started forward again, but this time it was Günter’s hand on his shoulder that stopped him. “Your Majesty, you are not alone in this. We are all with you.”
“I know,” was all Yuri said, but the confidence and gratitude in his voice gave that simple statement the potency of an oration.
Without speaking another word, they all turned, leaving the cell behind, trying not to notice how the stench seemed to linger in the air. The corridor appeared darker than it had when they entered, the reality of what they had seen blanketing them in a thick sense of dread. There was more that needed to be said, but putting words to the feelings would seem too final, too prophetic - as if the act of saying them would allow the worst to come about. But Conrart found himself thinking that, no matter what the outcome, he had never been prouder of his Godson.
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Notes: Sorry for the bad cutoff place, but there was nowhere else to stop anywhere near here, and I didn’t want to shorten it too much. I don’t have any estimate on the when the next part will be posted right now; since I can’t post it together I think I’ll go over the next section and rework a few things. You don’t want a poorly written part anyway, right? Right. ^_^
Please have mercy on me and review. Some concrit and/or other motivation would be very helpful to me right now…as you might have noticed, I’m having problems getting through this chapter. So please, help me figure out what’s missing, so I can get it out faster and most importantly make it better - because you deserve the best! Thanks! ~_^
A million thanks to Triskell, the one who makes this readable. ^_^
Title: Of Age
Author: lenainverse
Rating: Hard R (lime and violence/dark scenes)
Pairing: Yuri/Wolfram; now with added Gwendal/Günter goodness!
Genre: Drama/Romance and obscene amounts of angst
Chapter: 7/12 (third part of Chapter 7)
Summary: Demon Law states that on one’s sixteenth birthday, he has to decide what to do with his life. With Yuuri’s birthday just three weeks away, he finds himself filled with uncertainty about which world to call his home.
Comments: Spoilers through 65. X-posted at kyou_kara_maou and kkm_wolframfans.
Previous chapters are here:
Chapters 1-6
Chapter 7 - Part 1
Chapter 7 - Part 2
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Note: This is part 3 of Chapter 7, so if you haven’t read the first two parts…you probably should do that first. See links above. (It seems very weird to post chapters in parts, but when you’re as long-winded as I am, I guess it makes sense. Do you believe this story is over 100,000 words now? I just don’t know when to shut up.) ~_^
Disclaimer: Please note that this story contains scenes with a Lime rating, as well darker materials that are not suitable for children - including strong allusions to sex, violence (rape and torture) and strong emotional turmoil. Please use discretion.
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A heavy fog hung in the cool morning air, hovering over the ground and clinging to the thick vegetation of the forest. A gentle breeze made the mist stir sinuously within the small village of tents, which was just beginning to come alive with the sounds of soldiers awakening and preparing for battle.
Gwendal gave an approving nod as he peered out the flap of his small tent and ran his gaze over the encampment. If nothing else, the weather was cooperating nicely. Although the fog would make it slightly harder to navigate, it also would have the beneficial effect of concealing their presence, and at this point Gwendal was willing to exploit any advantage he possibly could. Truthfully, though, Gwendal suspected that they would have very little trouble getting into Aldrich’s castle. Aldrich needed Yuri close enough to activate Tyrfing - so the real problems would only arise once they were inside.
Gwendal slipped back into the tent, gathering his sword as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Günter. The Royal Advisor had not been sleeping well since setting out from Covenant Castle due to his frenzied worry for his King…and also his anger. Gwendal had never seen Günter so infuriated as when he had initially learned that Wolfram had left the Castle without permission and gotten captured, that His Majesty wished to go after him, and that His Highness was going to allow it. Günter had wisely waited until the two of them were safely alone together before voicing his displeasure; Gwendal had silently listened while Günter had ranted about Wolfram’s irresponsibility and the Sage’s permissiveness, and how he would never forgive either of them if anything happened to Yuri.
Günter hid his vexation well, though, and Gwendal suspected that no one else was aware of it. Most everyone thought that Günter wore his heart on his sleeve and was easily readable, when in fact nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, Günter tended to be unabashedly vocal about some things, but there was also another side to him - a side that, while equally as impassioned as the one he showed to the world, was also darker and a bit untamed. It was a side that few were permitted to see.
Gwendal was one of those few, so he knew fully well that Günter was angry. Despite his feelings, though, Günter had enough sense to keep his opinions to himself while others were present. Unlike some others that Gwendal could mention, Günter knew that sometimes, personal feelings had to be put aside in order for one to do his duty.
Gwendal exited the tent in silence, knowing that Günter would awaken soon enough as the soldiers began to ready themselves for the journey today. The sounds of blades scraping against whetstone and the clanging of armor being hammered out and adjusted were already beginning to echo throughout the wood, and before long there would be enough noise to wake the dead. In the meantime, though, he would let Günter get as much sleep as he could. This day would be incredibly long and trying…at best.
It was a very short distance to the King’s tent, and Gwendal could already hear voices inside - including, he noted with dismay, one with a distinctly feminine inflection.
Gwendal paused outside of the entrance to the King’s tent, trying not to allow a scowl to form on his face. This situation was perilous enough without placing their lives in the hands of a human woman - Aldrich’s twin, no less - and Gwendal couldn’t help but be resentful of his complete lack of control over the circumstances. But even if he thought that Yuri was being recklessly impetuous in his decisions, he was ultimately left with no option but to allow Yuri to handle the situation as he saw fit - foolish though Gwendal thought the decision was.
He admittedly didn’t know whether the Duchess was being truthful with them or not, but in his eyes, it was of little consequence. Either way, it did not change the fact that Alessandra’s presence created another complication in a situation that already contained far too many unpredictable elements for Gwendal’s taste. She was a threat at worst, and an impediment at best. At either end of the spectrum, she was a hindrance - yet one more thing that could blow up in their faces. Yuri certainly trusted her; but then, Yuri would place his trust in an assassin who had just plunged a knife into his back. While it was true that Yuri’s boundless generosity had brought about many positive changes in the Great Demon Kingdom, Gwendal knew that it would only be a matter of time before someone decided to exploit that trait and use it against Yuri.
It was exactly the sort of thing that a cunning, manipulative man like Aldrich Silke would do.
However, worrisome and potentially disastrous as this situation was at present, wishes and laments would not change it. The only thing for Gwendal to do was to find a way that the circumstances could be shifted in his favor. And, distasteful as he personally found the idea, the best strategy for doing that was to use the Duchess as leverage, if it came to that.
Gwendal was not entirely certain, after what the Duchess had said last night, that her husband would try to save her if her life were threatened. The Duchess did not love her husband…Gwendal had believed that much of her story. No amount of good acting could make someone speak with such indifference about their mate, if they loved them.
But even if the Duke would not try to save Alessandra’s life, Gwendal was reasonably certain that her brother would. Aldrich was a cruel monster who placed little or no value on human life…but Gwendal knew, after seeing what Aldrich had done to his sister, that he would not allow the Demons to take her life. The fact that Aldrich had tortured Alessandra as he had done indicated to Gwendal that Aldrich had a very deep connection with his sister; a desire for absolute control over her, body and spirit. Aldrich would never allow Alessandra to die except by his own hand - for her to die in any other fashion would be the ultimate violation of that control.
It was the sickest, most twisted and grotesque form of love Gwendal had ever seen, but it was still love in Aldrich’s mind. And Aldrich would not allow what he considered to be his to be taken away, especially by the Demon Tribe.
Of course, that strategy was to be used as a last resort. Yuri had sworn to protect the Duchess, and, like it or not, Gwendal had a responsibility to live up to the promise that his King had made…so long as Yuri’s safety was not compromised. So if Alessandra made no move to harm Yuri, then Gwendal would uphold His King’s word as if it were his own.
And, if he were to be honest with himself, Gwendal did not have any wish to harm the girl unless there was no other option open to him. Even if he did not trust Alessandra, she was as much a victim of Aldrich Silke as any of them; more so. Gwendal strongly suspected that if she had sought out Yuri under her brother’s instructions, that she had agreed under the most extreme duress.
Hearing a short burst of laughter within the King’s tent, Gwendal finally reached out and opened the flap, already knowing the scene that would meet his eyes before he saw it.
As expected, His Majesty and His Highness were seated at the breakfast table with a reasonably large meal laid out before them. The Duchess was seated across from Yuri, and Conrart was standing close by. Yuri was in the middle of describing to the Duchess the story of how he had come to adopt Greta after she had attempted to kill him, an amused yet wistful smile on his face as he gestured emphatically with his hands.
Gwendal frowned slightly - he dearly wished that Yuri would refrain from revealing such personal information to someone who might well be their enemy. If Wolfram was to be rescued safely but Aldrich later discovered that Yuri had a daughter, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to use the information to his own ends.
Regardless of that, Gwendal was quite pleased to find that Yuri was in good spirits. He didn’t have the slightest inclination as to why the King’s mood had improved so suddenly and drastically last night, but it was heartening to see him acting mostly like himself again. There was still a hint of sadness in the young King’s eyes, but it was a far cry from the despondent state he’d been in not twelve hours before.
Conrart gave Gwendal a nod as he stepped into the tent, but his presence went unnoticed by those seated at the table as Yuri continued to regale the Duchess with his story. Yuri spoke in his typical animated and charming way, seeming determined to make his guest more comfortable in her surroundings. Yuri always reveled in caring for others and protecting them, but the only consideration he ever gave himself involved risking his life. Gwendal didn’t know whether to call that chivalrous or foolhardy.
Despite Yuri’s efforts, though, the Duchess had a rather sorrowful air about her. She chuckled politely as Yuri spoke, smiling at him from across the table, but the emotion seemed forced and artificial. Her small smile could almost appear insincere, as ill-matched as it was with the rest of her demeanor. That was one trait she and her brother shared: a physical appearance that was incompatible with the temperament of the person within.
Alessandra was dressed in men’s clothing as that had been the only thing available, but the simple earth-toned trousers and tunic did not seem out of place on her. The cut was too broad in the shoulders and too wide at the waist, but a thin belt she wore somehow managed to make the clothing emphasize her feminine figure rather than detract from it. The high collar and long sleeves of the tunic hid her scars almost completely, and her long red hair was pulled into a braid which stretched the length of her back, ending nearly at her hips.
Physically, the girl was lovely - likely, her mother had been chosen as Freie Stadt’s Queen precisely because of the beauty that her daughter now displayed. But that fact only made Gwendal all the more wary of Alessandra. Beautiful women who told compelling and sympathetic tales of a life of misery and subsequently tried to get into the King’s bed, Gwendal had found, rarely had pure intentions.
“Oh! Good morning, Gwendal. I didn’t see you come in,” Yuri said cheerfully.
“Good morning, Your Majesty, Your Highness,” Gwendal replied, giving a small bow in their direction. His eyes met the Sage’s for a moment, and Gwendal noted with relief that His Highness seemed much refreshed this morning. Still, the look in His Highness’ dark eyes was one of deep concern. He was trying to appear calm for Yuri’s sake, but his message to Gwendal was quite clear: ‘do not lower your guard for a moment.’
Gwendal wondered what the Sage knew that would give him the need to reinforce something that already went without saying. The thought made him shift his gaze toward Alessandra, who was looking at him with cautious deference. It was probably an appropriate expression, considering he had almost run her through last night. Her eyes seemed to convey her awareness that Gwendal had not yet entirely dismissed that notion.
“Duchess,” Gwendal acknowledged, trying his best to sound marginally respectful.
“Good morning, My Lord. I apologize, but it appears that I do not know your proper title.”
Gwendal paused, reluctant to give her his name. He would much prefer that Aldrich not be aware that he, Günter and Wolfram represented a substantial portion of the Ten Aristocrats. Being known simply as the King’s guards, or the King’s consort in Wolfram’s case, made them far less useful to Aldrich.
Fortunately, Yuri interrupted before Gwendal was forced to respond. “There’s no need for formality, Alessandra,” he told her, still smiling away. “Feel free to call everyone by their first names.”
The Duchess simply stared, as if such a thing was completely unheard of where she had come from. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
The Sage chuckled as Yuri shook his head in exasperation. “Don’t call me that,” Yuri beseeched her. “I already have enough people who insist upon referring to me that way,” he said with a pointed glare at Conrart, who simply gave Yuri his characteristic smile.
Yuri turned back to his guest, his friendly smile returning. “Please, it’s Yuri.”
Alessandra blinked at her host in bewilderment for a short moment, but then managed a slight smile. “Very well. Yuri.”
Gwendal cleared his throat, hoping that the conversation could progress beyond appellations and on to more urgent matters. “Apologies, Your Majesty,” he said, ignoring Yuri’s scowl at Gwendal’s purposeful use of his title, “but we really must focus on retrieving your fiancé.
“If I might inquire, Duchess,” he continued, turning his gaze to Alessandra, “as to what help you can be in this endeavor?”
Alessandra met his stare evenly, her apprehensive and uncomfortable look vanishing as her eyes filled with the sheer determination that she had exhibited the night before. “I can lead you to the dungeon, where he is being kept, without having to confront my brother.”
“With respect, Duchess,” Conrart began, “I do not believe that your brother will allow us to retreat without a confrontation.”
“It is true, he did capture Yuri’s fiancé in order to provoke Yuri into fighting him, but it would…be in your best interest to avoid that.”
“Are you meaning not to tell us of his sword, or of the Prophecy that speaks to it?” Gwendal asked deliberately, giving the Duchess a sharp look. She seemed surprised for a brief moment, but quickly assumed an expression of realization.
“Not at all,” she replied, undaunted by Gwendal’s incredulity. “I merely assumed that you would think our Prophecy to be utter nonsense. So long as Yuri does not have to confront Aldrich, the Prophecy and the sword are immaterial to getting his fiancé safely out of the Castle. I thought that time spent trying to convince you of the sword’s power would be time wasted.”
“That’s quite comforting, I’m sure,” Gwendal growled, fully aware that he was being outright disrespectful, “but I would just as soon be made aware of all of the information you have, in case your dubious and ill-conceived plans should go awry.”
“Gwendal!” Yuri snapped, rising from his seat, “She can’t give us any information at all if you don’t let her talk.”
Gwendal bit back a scathing retort, fighting his instinct to forcibly throw the deceptive woman out of the tent. She had just confirmed Gwendal’s suspicions of her by withholding vital information, and yet Yuri still was willing to trust her. This had to be one of the most irrational and senseless decisions in the history of the office of the Demon King.
However, Yuri was still the King. So, with great difficulty, Gwendal swallowed his irritation and addressed the Duchess again, this time with a somewhat forced reverence. “My sincere apologies, Duchess.”
Alessandra gave Gwendal a wry smile, which, for the first time, did not seem unfitting on her face. “Think nothing of it. Were I in your position, I would not trust me, either.” She turned to Yuri, her smile becoming sincere. “You are fortunate to have such devoted subjects in your service.”
Yuri returned the smile, taking his seat again. “They’re not my subjects; they are my friends. Even if we do disagree at times.”
“Well, then your friend is correct that I should be more forthcoming,” Alessandra told her host, “and I should be delighted to answer any questions you have about the Prophecy or the sword, to the best of my knowledge.”
“In that case,” the Sage cut in, “I should very much like to know how the sword is used.” Gwendal took in His Highness’ pensive expression, realizing that he was feigning ignorance about Tyrfing in order to see how much Aldrich knew about Its powers.
“First, you must understand that my brother firmly believes that it is his fate to destroy the Demons with that blade,” the Duchess said with a sigh. “I have never discovered the exact reason why he so fervently believes this, but I know that he has unwavering determination to meet that goal. He even went so far as to dissolve his Royal Council because they questioned the wisdom of pursuing something so dangerous.
“But to answer your question, Your Highness, I am not entirely certain how the sword is used. No one is. The Prophecy merely states that the sword gives its wielder the ability to ‘slay the Demons’ and that it repels Demon magic in some way, but it has never been tested because it was not activated until last evening.”
Gwendal kept his expression carefully neutral as he listened to the Duchess, and briefly looked over to lock his eyes with His Highness’. For the first time since Wolfram had been taken, the Sage appeared relieved: if Alessandra’s information was correct, it could mean that Aldrich did not know how the sword was to be used; that it could not only repel magic, but also use it offensively.
Yuri let out a shocked gasp as Alessandra’s statement sunk in. “Does this mean…Aldrich performed the Ritual on you?” Alessandra’s gaze slipped down to the table, and she nodded slowly, seeming ashamed to admit it. Yuri reached out to place his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “Is that why you were bleeding last night?” he asked her softly.
Alessandra hesitated for a brief moment, looking all the more uncomfortable at being touched. “Part of the reason.”
There was a heavy silence in the tent, everyone knowing exactly what had remained unsaid. The Duchess shifted in her seat awkwardly, but then she raised her eyes and spoke in a calming tone, “do not concern your self with it, Yuri. Your healer bandaged the wounds; they will heal quickly.”
Gwendal noticed that nobody was making any attempt to inform the Duchess that the Ritual had been a lie, made up by the Original King’s advisors many centuries ago. He supposed that it was pointless to bring it up now that it had already taken place. Besides, telling her that her pain had been for naught would be cruel, and would accomplish nothing.
Yuri gave Alessandra a shaky smile, but then the smile fell as he retracted his arm. “Are you sure that you want to lead us in there? I mean, what if your brother catches you helping us? You might be safer staying here until we get back…”
“No,” Alessandra interrupted with a firm voice. “I must go with you. The lower corridors are a complicated labyrinth and if you became lost, it would be disastrous. Besides, I will hardly be able to elicit change by hiding and cowering in fear. If I am to help my people, I must take action.”
“I see your point,” Yuri said cautiously, “but I don’t want you to be hurt any further.”
The Duchess made a dismissive gesture. “Do not worry. It would be considered treason for the guards to hurt me. They would likely assume that I was your captive.” Yuri opened his mouth, likely ready to protest that it was not the guards that worried him, but he paused as he caught the pained look on Alessandra’s face, which pleaded that he not pursue the subject any further.
“So Aldrich has never before used the sword,” the Sage started in an obvious but much appreciated ploy to change the subject. “It is possible, then, that we have nothing to fear.”
“I’m afraid that I don’t quite catch your meaning,” Alessandra muttered, a puzzled expression on her face. “Although, now that the subject has arisen, Your Highness, I wonder why you are so anxious about one blade. You are surrounded by skilled swordsman, and you have magic on your side. It seems to me that even a swordsman with as much fighting prowess as my brother would be no problem to fend off. Prophecy states that the blade will bring about the slaying of the Demons, but you all hardly have any reason to place any credence in human Prophecy.”
Gwendal tensed just slightly; if Alessandra was correct and Aldrich did not have complete knowledge of Tyrfing’s powers, then it was crucial that the information not reach his ears. Silence enveloped the tent once again, as none of the occupants seemed eager to answer Alessandra’s question; even Yuri seemed to be aware that it was dangerous to reveal the truth. The Duchess looked from one face to the next, a strangely pensive expression on her face, as if she knew that something was deliberately being withheld.
Thankfully, at that moment Günter stumbled into the tent, a hasty and anxious expression on his face. At once, complete chaos erupted. Günter immediately began falling over himself in apology for oversleeping, repeatedly assuring the King that it would never happen again. Yuri became rather jumpy, rising from his seat and barely dodging as Günter attempted a lunging hug, all the while reassuring Günter that nothing bad had happened while he was sleeping. The Duchess and His Highness were forced to leap out of the way as Günter continued to dive toward the King, practically in tears.
In spite of himself, Gwendal actually smirked at the display. Günter had many excellent qualities, but none so obliging as his remarkable sense of timing. Before things could become too unmanageable, though, Gwendal took it upon himself to end the madness. “Well, then. If everyone is prepared, I believe that it is time we set out. If the Duchess has more information to share, perhaps we can discuss it during the journey.” There was a murmur of assent, and then Conrart escorted His Majesty, His Highness, and the Duchess out of the tent to prepare for the ride ahead.
Günter paused beside the entryway of the tent, giving Gwendal a half smile. Gwendal noticed that the man looked flawless as usual, in stark contrast to the rest of them who were each slightly rumpled, at the very least, from travel. If there had ever been a time when Günter looked anything less than impeccable, Gwendal couldn’t recall it.
“You’re quite welcome,” Günter said, with no small amount of smugness. Then, he turned and, with a flip of his lavender hair, was gone.
As he stared at the inside of the tent flap, Gwendal didn’t bother to hide the expression on his face; too derisive to be a smile, yet too warm for a smirk. The look soured as he exited, though, his mind turning to far the more somber thought of the journey ahead.
It turned out that the discussion of Aldrich and his sword ended in the King’s tent, being that no one seemed eager for Alessandra to again begin asking questions that they could not answer. Instead, Yuri continued what seemed an unending quest to make Alessandra smile, making small talk about anything humorous he could think of. He was undeterred by the fact that Alessandra was rather resistant to his attempts, although she at least tried to be appropriately polite.
The Sage and Yuri rode together, flanked by Conrart and Günter, who were on foot. Gwendal remained close to the Duchess, walking beside her horse and careful to keep himself strategically placed between her and the King. The rest of the soldiers, two squads of the elite guards totaling about a dozen men, marched behind in silence.
Aldrich’s Castle was just beginning to come into view when Gwendal felt it - the very beginning of a swimming ache in his head, his stomach knotting just slightly. He looked over at Günter, who agreed with a nod that they were beginning to feel the effects of Esoteric Magic. As the Castle drew closer, the effects increased substantially, the continual waves of nausea making Gwendal quite glad that he hadn’t bothered to eat breakfast.
By the time they reached the outer limits of the city, the human magic was so strong that Gwendal was beginning to become winded by walking alongside Alessandra’s horse, the cramping pain in his abdomen making drawing breath increasingly difficult, while his head was pounding with every beat of his heart.
“Ugh,” Gwendal heard the King groan from atop his horse. He looked up to see Yuri rubbing his stomach with the hand that was not holding on to His Highness.
“Your Majesty, are you all right?” Conrart asked.
“Yeah…I think so. I guess breakfast wasn’t such a good idea if I was going to be riding this much,” he said, giving a rather weak smile.
Gwendal exchanged a glance with Günter, then Conrart, both of them seeming surprised and concerned. It appeared that Yuri was feeling the effects of human magic…even though he never had before. Could it be that the magic was strong enough for even Yuri to feel it?
But then Gwendal caught the emphatic look that His Highness cast at him, and he realized what was happening to the King. If the seal on Yuri’s magic was deteriorating, then it only made sense that he would feel the effects of Esoteric Magic, as all other full Demons did. Luckily, though, it did not appear that Yuri felt the effects as strongly as did Gwendal and Günter, for he appeared somewhat queasy, but did not look to be in any pain. Gwendal found himself silently thankful that the seal was, apparently, still somewhat intact, because Yuri simply did not have the constitution to endure the full effects, as strong as they were.
“Your Excellency!” called a voice from behind them, and Gwendal turned to look to the soldiers, but needed to close his eyes briefly to steady himself from the dizzying effect of turning.
Only one of the soldiers had collapsed, but the rest of them looked to be, at minimum, contemplating the idea. Gwendal cursed under his breath as he walked back toward the men; he hadn’t considered that the power level would be so high as to stop the guards in their tracks. He had warned the guards of human magic and its effects, but being that none of them had experienced it directly before, they seemed unable to handle such concentrated power.
It appeared that there was no possible way that the soldiers could accompany them, so Gwendal relieved them and sent them back to the encampment to await his return. The men looked stricken that they were being sent back, unable to accomplish their purpose, but none seemed willing or able to continue.
“Is everything quite alright?” Alessandra asked as Gwendal resumed his position beside her horse.
Gwendal kept his expression carefully neutral. He could not afford to let the Duchess know that the men were so affected by the Esoteric Magic. “Indeed. A mild case of heat exhaustion, I’m afraid. However, I decided that, if we are to infiltrate the lower levels without being seen, then it would be to our detriment to have a large squad of soldiers with us. Stealth is far preferable to numbers, in this instance.”
“Ah,” Alessandra replied, seemingly convinced. “Well, I would suggest that we leave the horses here. The back entrance to the Castle is just that way,” she announced, gesturing to the Northwest.
Conrart helped Yuri down from the horse, and he stood still for a moment, swaying slightly, his face taking on an unhealthy pallor. Once the Sage and the Duchess had dismounted and the horses’ reins were safely tied around a nearby tree branch, though, Yuri set his jaw in determination.
“Let’s go,” he declared, indicating for Alessandra to lead them on.
As he began to follow the Duchess toward her brother’s Castle, a question rose in Gwendal’s mind, making him feel ill in a far different way than did the magic that surrounded him: what in the Hells did Aldrich have in that Castle…and what was it doing to Wolfram?
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Conrart crept along beside Yuri, who looked as if he might become ill at any moment. Ahead of them, Conrart could tell that Gwendal and Günter were not faring much better, the slight drag in their steps and the barely audible labored quality to their breathing indicating that the human magic was causing them quite a bit of discomfort. His Highness, who was on Yuri’s other side, met Conrart’s eyes for a moment, the shared glance communicating volumes of apprehension.
During the past few minutes, Conrart had repeatedly cursed himself for not anticipating that Yuri would be vulnerable to the effects of Esoteric Magic. It was so obvious when he thought about it - of course, with the state of the seal on his magic being so fragile, there were bound to be some other effects. Conrart wondered briefly if the Sage had known that this would happen - His Highness had seemed concerned, but not particularly surprised when Yuri began to complain of feeling ill.
Once the small party had passed the outer walls of the city, Conrart realized why the human magic was affecting them so greatly: Aldrich had placed a significant number of the magic stones all along the city walls. It was likely an attempt to keep Demons out of the city - with the exception of Yuri, who Aldrich would assume to still be immune to the effects of the human magic. Certainly there would be no risk of invasion by the armies of the Great Demon Kingdom so long as such powerful magic was active along the walls.
Aldrich’s strategy seemed to be achieving the desired effects quite well: the soldiers that had come with them had been forced to turn back, and Gwendal and Günter were not going to be able to fight to the fullest of their abilities. Conrart found himself slightly angry at how well Aldrich had managed to stack the decks in his favor.
The only advantage that they had at the moment was Alessandra. Conrart was incredibly hesitant to assume that she was not yet another part of Aldrich’s plan to confront and defeat Yuri, but he couldn’t help but hope that her intentions were genuine. If not, then they were in a lot of trouble - and so was Wolfram.
With all the uncertainty of the situation, Conrart’s training told him to be cautious and deliberate in his actions. But the constant fear of what might be happening to his brother urged Conrart to hurry, to rush headlong into the Castle despite the danger. If he had only his own life to consider, he’d have done just that.
Alessandra led them along one of the back walls of the Castle, slowly making their way toward the entrance that she had said was the quickest way to get to Wolfram. Alessandra had pulled her cloak over her face as they came near the Castle, and Conrart found himself pondering what that action meant, given her comments about how the guards would not harm her. His attention to her every gesture and nuance was almost painfully acute - at the first sign that she intended to betray Yuri’s trust, she would have to be subdued by whatever means necessary. Conrart didn’t think that he had removed his hand from the hilt of his sword since she had suddenly appeared last night. And now that the Esoteric magic was effecting Gwendal and Günter so significantly, Conrart knew that he would have to be the one to act if something should happen. His brother and Günter both had incredible willpower and could surely endure the pain of the magical effects, but their senses were undoubtedly dulled by illness and their reaction would be slower.
Conrart had noted that there didn’t seem to be any guards in their immediate area, nor in the upper battlements. Granted, there were very few entrances on this side of the Castle, but it was still concerning. There was no chance that Aldrich had forgotten to post sentries here - if there were no guards, it was surely intentional.
The Duchess gestured for the party to stop as they came to a corner, and Yuri leaned back against the stone wall and let out a very soft groan, his eyes falling shut. Conrart laid a hand on Yuri’s shoulder in concern, and it appeared that Yuri had to put a substantial amount of effort into the act of opening his eyes again.
Alessandra peered quickly around the corner, and then turned back toward the rest of them. She spotted Yuri looking drained and weakened against the wall, and frowned. “It is the magic, isn’t it?” she whispered.
Conrart tensed, preparing to step between the Duchess and Yuri. If she were planning to attack Yuri, the most opportune time would be now, when he was weakened by the effects of the Esoteric Magic. Conrart searched her face for any sign of menacing intent, but her concern did not appear to be a façade. Alessandra was either the most skilled and believable liar in all the world, or she was genuinely worried.
Yuri stood straight again, forming an expression of resolve that was, to Conrart’s surprise, moderately convincing. “No, I’m fine. Please, let’s keep going.”
Alessandra gave Yuri a troubled glance, but then turned to resume their path along the wall of the Castle, toward where she had said the entrance would be. Conrart was worried by Yuri’s determination to continue despite feeling ill, but he knew that Yuri would never agree to retreat. Conrart imagined that, as sick as Yuri appeared at present, he would be in a much worse state if they failed to rescue Wolfram.
Conrart suppressed a shudder, the very thought of his younger brother being lost to them making him feel rather ill himself. Out of necessity, he pushed the pain from the forefront of his mind, just as he had been doing since Wolfram was taken. Yuri needed him, and he could not afford to let his grief cloud his judgment.
Alessandra peeked out from behind the wall again and then disappeared around the corner, motioning for the others to follow. Gwendal was nearest to her, and he quickly looked around the corner after her before gesturing that it seemed safe. Everyone followed in a single-file line, trying to stay as near to the wall as possible. It was only another fifty paces to the entrance, which was recessed into the wall, blocking the actual door from their view. Alessandra had told them that there should be two sentries posted there, but that they could expect far more resistance once they entered the corridors.
There was a blur of movement just as they rounded the corner - a soldier leapt out of the alcove, lunging towards them. Conrart, Gwendal and Günter each drew their weapons, but the soldier happened to be much closer to Alessandra, as she had been leading them. He flew towards her, not realizing that he was about to attack the Duchess, whose identity was well concealed by her heavy cloak.
To Conrart’s astonishment, Alessandra leaned into the attack, deflecting the soldier’s hand with a quick upward motion of her arm. Stepping in further and using the soldier’s inertia against him, she thrust her knee into his stomach, and then elbowed him in the back of the head once he doubled over. Everyone stared in shock for the briefest of moments, but quickly recovered as Alessandra dashed into the alcove at a dead run, not slowed at all by the attempted assault.
Conrart followed her after sharing a glace with Gwendal, both of them quickly deciding that Conrart should act since he was in the best position to fight. He turned the corner just in time to see a second soldier, this one armed with a long, curved knife in his raised hand, running out from the shadows to attack the Duchess. She leaned backwards and turned as the knife whistled past her, but was not so fortunate the second time. The soldier swiped at her again, the blade slicing shallowly through her upper arm. The soldier pulled out a second knife and barely managed to get it aloft in time to block Conrart’s attack. The two men stood there, locked in combat, pushing against the other’s blade with all their might…until Alessandra grabbed one of the soldier’s hands and pulled it away. She turned, twisting his arm behind his back and grabbing the knife out of his fingers when the pain loosened his grip. Conrart easily disposed of the soldier’s second knife with a quick jerk of his blade, and the next moment, Alessandra had her newly acquired weapon against the soldier’s throat.
“Disarm the door,” she said in his ear, her voice clear and strong.
The blood drained from the soldier’s face. “…Princess?”
Conrart blinked at the epithet. Why would the guard still address her by her former title, when she was now married to the Duke? Of course, there were much more important matters that required his attention right then, so the flash of confusion was gone quickly.
The Duchess paid his question no mind. “Disarm it now, or I shall cleave your throat open.” The soldier nodded silently, appearing to be far less concerned about the knife at his throat than he was about who was holding it. He touched the wall of the alcove, pushing on one of the stones until it sank into the wall, then reaching into the newly created opening and grasped something inside. Conrart heard a sharp click and then the turning of unseen gears.
Alessandra moved back, releasing the soldier from her grasp. He turned and dropped to the ground, offering her a humble bow.
“Princess, please…stop this,” he begged her in a mournful tone. Alessandra looked away, her expression pained.
“If you please,” she said, indicating the soldier with her hand. Conrart caught her meaning and quickly jammed the hilt of his sword into the crown of the soldier’s head. The guard fell limply to the ground, unconscious.
Conrart stared at the Duchess, unsure whether to be relieved or troubled by the knowledge that she had some fighting skills. Judging by her form and speed, she had likely been formally trained at some point. This meant that she was far more dangerous than any of them had anticipated, and it was alarming that everyone had underestimated her so completely. Only one man had been guarding her last night; had she wanted to, she likely could have dispatched him and made an attempt on Yuri’s life. Her fighting skills were no match for Conrart’s, Gwendal’s, or Günter’s, but she would have had the element of surprise on her side, which might have given her just enough of an advantage to pull off an assassination right under their very noses. It was a wholly chilling prospect.
But she hadn’t tried to hurt Yuri, even having been given countless opportunities to do so thus far. Not only that, but she had just had the soldier disarm what was undoubtedly a trap that would trigger when the door was opened, which would have been yet another chance for her to take action against Yuri and the rest of them. And also, if she had been trying to hide her abilities in order to attack Yuri when it was least expected, she had just negated that possibility because her skills were now fully apparent. The more Conrart thought about her actions, the more her intentions seemed pure.
After a moment, the rest of the party hurried into the alcove, Yuri rushing over to Alessandra with a worried expression. She quickly tossed the knife aside, in the opposite direction of where Yuri was running from, giving Conrart a knowing glance and making him even more surprised. Alessandra seemed determined to avoid even the slightest appearance of being threatening, consciously giving them every reason to trust her.
“I am fine,” the Duchess said quickly as Yuri opened his mouth, obviously about to ask if she was all right. “It is only a superficial wound. I was quite lucky.”
Yuri stood beside her, an almost awed look on his face. “I didn’t know you could fight like that.”
Alessandra turned toward the door and shrugged. “My father began my training when I was young. He had hoped that I would be able to defend myself,” she said, failing completely at being nonchalant. “I hope that you are not angry with me for hiding this from you, Yuri, but I feared that you would not trust me otherwise.”
Yuri shook his head, trying his best to smile despite his queasiness. “Not at all. I’m just glad that you’re not too badly hurt.”
The Duchess returned the smile. “As I said, I was lucky. Now, let us proceed. Please be cautious - once the guards realize that we have made it past the rigged outer door, they will converge quickly. Follow me closely.” With that, she marched forward and pushed open the heavy door, peering inside briefly before entering. Conrart stepped back as Gwendal and Günter swept past him and through the doorway, leaving Conrart to protect Yuri and the Sage.
Just as the Duchess had warned, there was quite a bit of resistance from the guards once they were inside. However, the attacks were spread out enough that there were only two or three guards to deal with at any one time, which presented only minor problems for them. The soldiers were clearly not the most experienced; Conrart figured that Aldrich had his elites by his side, rather than guarding the lower levels.
Alessandra had been quite accurate in her depiction of the lower corridors; they were incredibly complex. Conrart was having a little trouble keeping track of their path, divided as his attention was between the frequent attacks from guards, Yuri’s illness, and the complexity of their trek through the Castle. But Alessandra did not hesitate even for a moment as she led them with confidence through the halls, never once having to stop and question the location of a hidden door or which path to take when a fork came upon them.
A short time but many turns later, Alessandra led them into a hallway that obviously contained the holding cells, and Gwendal easily defeated the two guards who were keeping watch after taking them by surprise. Alessandra reached down and tugged the keys from the unconscious guards’ belt, her eyes gleaming in the torchlight as she pushed her hood away from her face.
“This way,” she whispered, turning and rushing silently down the hallway of cells, as if more afraid of being heard in this hallway than any previous. She stopped before the heavy steel door of the last cell in the row. She unlocked the door, causing a high-pitched creaking as the door swung open on its rusted hinges, and then stepped into the room. Yuri pushed past everyone and into the cell, his brow creased with anxiety.
Conrart looked in after them, wrinkling his nose at the rotted smell emanating throughout the cell. A small amount of sunlight shone through a tiny window that was near to the ceiling, illuminating the patches of blood and vomit that dotted the floor. Yuri let out a choked gasp as he took in the sight and smell, clearly shaken by the implications of all the blood.
“Damn,” Alessandra cursed as her eyes searched the empty room. “Aldrich has taken him elsewhere.”
Günter came up next to her, eyes widening at the blood spattered across the stone floor. “Is it possible that he noticed your absence and anticipated that you would lead us here?”
Alessandra shook her head forcefully. “It is unlikely that anyone would have discovered that I was missing before now. I spend most nights alone in my chambers. It is not even mid-morning yet, so it would be expected that I would still be in bed. And surely, if it had been noticed, patrols would be searching the area and we would have been found outside the city walls.”
“If he had known that we would come to this part of the Castle, Aldrich would have planned to take us by surprise,” Gwendal noted pensively, “but the attacks that we faced were disorganized and random - decidedly not part of any sort of strategy. It seems plausible that Aldrich moved Wolfram for some other reason.”
“Then I would suggest that we wake the guard and ask where Wolfram was taken,” His Highness advised. “I doubt that Aldrich would have carried a prisoner himself…he would have instructed his guards to do something like that.”
With a murmur of agreement, everyone began to exit the cell. Conrart looked behind him, noticing that Yuri was making no move to leave. Yuri was standing in the center of the cell, staring down at one of the larger pools of blood, the glossy surface indicating that it had been formed fairly recently. His eyes were widened in horror as he looked down at the blood, as if he was for the first time comprehending what had actually happened to Wolfram in that very room.
“Yuri?” Conrart asked softly. Yuri blinked numbly in response, and then his eyes widened further and his hands flew up to cover his mouth. He rushed over to a corner, leaning over and heaving out the contents of his stomach with a violent retching sound.
Conrart hurried over to Yuri, understanding his reaction. There was a huge difference between Yuri knowing, intellectually, that his fiancé was being hurt and actually seeing the evidence of it with his own eyes. Conrart held out a handkerchief, rubbing Yuri’s back lightly and waiting for Yuri’s shaking to subside. Yuri pressed a hand against the wall for support and shut his eyes, but he grasped the cloth as Conrart put it into his hand. Yuri wiped at his mouth as tears built at the corners of his closed eyes.
“He must have been through so much pain,” Yuri choked out. “It must have been so horrible for him, laying here and waiting to die, thinking that he would never see home again.”
The anguished look on Yuri’s face was almost too much for Conrart to take. He could practically feel Yuri’s pain as it radiated around him, so intense and palpable that he feared that Yuri might be consumed by it.
Conrart called Yuri’s name again, alarmed when Yuri did not answer. With a hint of desperation, Conrart reached out and cupped Yuri’s chin, rotating his head and forcing their eyes to meet as Yuri’s tear-filled eyes opened.
“Yuri. Listen to me,” he instructed firmly. “Wolfram will never give up. He will fight, with every breath, for the chance to see you again - just as you must fight. His scars can only be healed if you are strong enough to help him heal. I know it hurts, but you have to look past the pain for now.”
It was probably only a few seconds before Yuri responded, but to Conrart it felt far longer. Yuri stood straight, his tormented expression fading, his resolve returning. His eyes, though still filled with unshed tears, were filled with purpose, and Conrart thought that he had never seen Yuri look more regal - even surrounded by an environment that was permeated with the stench of death, Yuri was able to endow it with light and hope.
“Yuri, Lord Weller,” called His Highness’ voice from the doorway. Conrart turned, wondering how long the Sage had been watching. “We have discovered where Wolfram was taken.”
“Where is he?” Yuri asked steadily.
The Sage gave a half-smile at Yuri’s tone. “We were unable to wake the guard, but one of the men who was on patrol came by and we…questioned him. He insisted that King Aldrich had the prisoner transported to his throne room.”
Conrart’s blood ran cold at the statement. This was exactly what he had feared: there would be no rescuing Wolfram without confronting Aldrich. Somehow, Aldrich had known exactly when they were coming, and had prevented them from accomplishing their goal without willingly placing themselves directly in his path. And now, he was waiting for Yuri to come to him.
“Well, then,” Yuri said gravely as he started for the door, “what are we standing around here for?” He was stopped short when Gwendal reached out and grabbed Yuri’s shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. Yuri pushed against him uselessly, trying to find some way past, but Gwendal held his ground.
“Your Majesty, I cannot prevent you from going to face King Aldrich. But before I allow you to pass, I must ask you for your word that you will not, under any circumstances, release your magic.” Gwendal looked down at his King, his worry and protectiveness showing through despite his obvious efforts to hold them back.
Yuri met his gaze unwaveringly as he answered. “I will do whatever is necessary to get Wolfram back.”
“No! I cannot allow this!” Günter’s voice was raised, but he was obviously taking care to keep himself controlled so as not to bring more soldiers running. “Your Majesty, you must promise. It is not out of callous disregard for Wolfram’s life that we ask this of you; it is out of concern for yours. If you release your magic, you release the power of the sword, and then not even we can protect you. Just this one promise, that is all we ask.” Yuri looked at Günter’s face, seeming surprised at the severe, unrelenting expression that the lavender-haired man wore. Likely, Yuri had expected to see tears, but there were none.
Yuri addressed his two advisors softly, with patience and compassion. “And you must understand: it is not out of disregard for my own life that I refuse you. I have no wish to throw my life away needlessly. But if I fail to do everything in my power to save him - then, even if I survive, there will be nothing left of me. I don’t ask that you agree with my decision; but I am certain that you can understand why I am making it.
“Now, please…let me pass.”
Günter and Gwendal both looked down at Yuri with a mixture of resentment and respect. Gwendal released Yuri from his grasp, and abruptly turned, slowly and deliberately drawing his sword. When he finally spoke, Conrart couldn’t be sure whether to call his tone embittered or mournful.
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Yuri started forward again, but this time it was Günter’s hand on his shoulder that stopped him. “Your Majesty, you are not alone in this. We are all with you.”
“I know,” was all Yuri said, but the confidence and gratitude in his voice gave that simple statement the potency of an oration.
Without speaking another word, they all turned, leaving the cell behind, trying not to notice how the stench seemed to linger in the air. The corridor appeared darker than it had when they entered, the reality of what they had seen blanketing them in a thick sense of dread. There was more that needed to be said, but putting words to the feelings would seem too final, too prophetic - as if the act of saying them would allow the worst to come about. But Conrart found himself thinking that, no matter what the outcome, he had never been prouder of his Godson.
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Notes: Sorry for the bad cutoff place, but there was nowhere else to stop anywhere near here, and I didn’t want to shorten it too much. I don’t have any estimate on the when the next part will be posted right now; since I can’t post it together I think I’ll go over the next section and rework a few things. You don’t want a poorly written part anyway, right? Right. ^_^
Please have mercy on me and review. Some concrit and/or other motivation would be very helpful to me right now…as you might have noticed, I’m having problems getting through this chapter. So please, help me figure out what’s missing, so I can get it out faster and most importantly make it better - because you deserve the best! Thanks! ~_^
A million thanks to Triskell, the one who makes this readable. ^_^