Whispers from the Rye. Chapter 4. Part 2
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The Mountains of Lesser Gael
Five hours later
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Murata spread his bedroll on top of rock and sighed. It seemed too long since he had had a decent mattress beneath his back. Longer since his last uninterrupted sleep.
Dreams of Shinou usually only bothered him when he was at the temple, but the closer they climbed toward the raw power of the mountains the more he seemed to dream of his infuriating former king. Always the same place. Always the same half-remembered conversations and infernal hinting.
Pointless, all of it. Shinou was dead. Murata had helped kill the man himself.
Shinou's spirit should be at rest, not interrupting his.
It was nothing more than the perversions of his own mind. Dreams that didn't mean anything. There was no way that any part of Shinou's spirit was still alive. If it was--
If it was than Murata would know. Shinou would have contacted him in some way other than dreams.
The dreams were simply a result of Murata's subconscious. There was a perfectly logical explanation, as pathetic as that made him seem.
Still.
Shinou's words tugged at his mind.
"I've taken care of everything, my pretty Sage."
Murata snorted as he finished setting up his bed for the night. Everything.
Shou Shimeron's "plague". Shibuya's decision to rush his wedding to Sir Belefield. The mess concerning Sir Belefield's magic. Diplomacy with Lesser Gael.
There was a whole lot of "everything" for a manifestation of his dreams to have solved.
Murata narrowed his eyes as he watched Sir Belefield arrange his own bed several feet away. He seemed to be managing mostly by touch and Murata felt his suspicions rise about the truth of Sir Belefield's earlier statement. That he was able to see in any sense down here in the tunnels. His description of having his vision in flashes in particular seemed strange. If his magic was low he should simply have a low visibility, not sudden moments of bright clarity amidst nothing.
The incident with Sir Belefield's hand, too, was suspect. Shibuya had showed some restraint-- allowing Lady Gisela to heal the wound-- but that it had happened at all combined with the fact that Sir Belefield had tried to hide it made Murata question if Sir Belefield could actually see or if his flashes of vision were nothing more than wishful thinking.
Murata yawned.
Exhaustion always seemed to add to his pessimism and they had been walking almost non-stop all day. Even though he couldn't see the blackness surrounding him, it was dark enough when he closed his eyes that Murata suspected he would have no trouble falling asleep.
Staying asleep was a separate matter.
* * *
Murata woke in sweat to an unnameable sound. A deep pounding that seemed to come from the rock itself. There was a moment where he considered the heartbeat of the mountain itself before he was asleep again.
Back to the staggering brightness of the garden.
Murata could almost feel Shinou's smirk against the back of his neck.
"You'll remember what I said, won't you? About you always being mine." Blue eyes shone with want.
Murata narrowed his eyes. "Shibuya is king now--"
"Yes, yes." Shinou stood and moved to stand directly behind him. "And another coming." He chuckled. "I should have known you would be right about that prophecy. In my defense..." He leaned closer, arms draped over Murata's shoulders. Breath on his ear. "... someone had me a bit worked up at the time. You should know how I get when--"
"Selfish and hot-headed like you always are!" Murata jerked away from his grasp, surprised for a moment that it worked. He turned to glare.
Shinou pouted. "To be fair it sounded probable. I was already suffering under Shoushi's influence." He looked away. "I was scared of destroying everything we had built--"
Murata gasped as he was shaken into consciousness. Hands tight on his shoulders. He blinked-- squinting in the odd vision of magic.
"Murata!" Shibuya's face was full of concern. "Are you alright? We tried to wake you but you were hardly breathing. Everyone was worried!"
Lady Gisela was hovering over him as well. "How are you feeling, Your Grace?"
"I'm fine," Murata managed, once he had caught his breath from the shock of being so suddenly pulled from his dreams. "It's been a while since I've slept deeply is all. My body is just tired. I'm sorry to have worried you."
Shibuya bit his lip but didn't say anything else, glancing at Lady Gisela instead.
The medic frowned and touched Murata's forehead.
Murata had to hold back a grimace. He had always hated the tingle of magical examination.
Gisela sighed. "You seem fine."
Behind him Doyle spoke. "It's my fault they're so worried, Your Grace. The mountains take people sometimes. The magic--" A pause. "It hasn't happened in centuries. I should have said something-- but your safe arrival was Seen and I didn't think... I wanted to save concern-- But then you weren't responding..." He lowered his head. "My most sincere apologies, Your Highness-- Your Grace."
Murata shook his head. "How soon will we be arriving in your country? Will we need to spend another night?"
"No, Your Grace," Doyle answered quickly. "We should be arriving later today."
"Good." They couldn't risk Shibuya to something like this. A quick glance at Sir Weller and Sir Belefield confirmed a similar concern.
"We can continue as soon as you're ready." Doyle bowed his head.
Murata nodded slowly and stood.
* * *
The pounding sound not only continued but grew as they made their way through the winding tunnels. It was Shibuya who eventually asked about the noise, and Doyle had revealed that it was actually the sound of drums. Drums to honor and announce their arrival.
Murata had barely managed to hold his tongue. As far as he knew, the drums were not to be sounded in welcome for the Maou. They hadn't even been struck in Shinou's honor all those years ago, back when he was at the height of his power.
The drums of Lesser Gael were reserved for their True King.
Did they truly believe it to be Shibuya?
Murata could understand their logic to some degree, but in reality it was impossible. The first prophecy could easily speak of Shibuya, but even as the Maou he would be incapable of the kind of destruction the later prophecy described. The vengeful range-- It was why Shinou had been so sure it spoke of him.
Murata hadn't believed him at first. But then Shinou's corruption by Soushi had come to light... Murata had been so blinded by his own fear that he had let himself forget how much the original prophecy seemed to say nothing of Shinou.
One prophecy that fit Shibuya, another Shinou, but both spoke of the same man.
In all likelihood the elders of Lesser Gael were simply erring on the side of caution. It would be better to risk showing more respect than failing to show enough. The elders had yet to meet Shibuya for themselves, though the Taibhsear had been sent. As he had yet to return they would have only heard vague tales of Shibuya's great benevolence and power.
And who knew. Perhaps Murata was wrong again and Shibuya really was to become the True King of Gael.
He squinted as a splash of light came into view. Murata allowed himself a small sigh of relief. It would be nice to feel the sun on his skin.
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Capital City of Lesser Gael
Four hours later
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Yuuri didn't know how he would be able to eat any of the food that the sprawling expanse of table cloth promised with the way his nerves were fluttering in his stomach. At least they were sitting on the ground. One thing that was familiar after the unending stream of strange formality that hadn't stopped since they had first left the mountain tunnels.
The cushion he was sitting on was firm and thick and reminded him of the few times his grandparents had taken him to a temple before they passed away. Yuuri remembered feeling so lost. Restless. Sitting still on his cushion while the chanting of the people around him blended into noise and the heavy smell of incense made his stomach turn.
Back then he had felt lost and uncomfortable, but more than anything he remembered the awe and respect he had felt for this thing that he didn't understand. This place and practice that made so many adults so still. That time he was supposed to be focusing on the air in front of him, but Yuuri could still remember the ornate picture over the altar. The blooming lotus and images of the Pure Land. Beliefs so old they had changed a thousand times yet remained.
Like most Japanese, Yuuri had grown up visiting Shinto shrines to welcome the new year and Buddhist temples to honor the dead. His mother's favorite holiday was Christmas and there was a decorative cross hanging in their living room. Yuuri supposed it was part of why he had never thought twice about all the various religious practices in this world.
Shinou's temple reminded him of the fancy church from his parent's wedding photos. Wolfram said a prayer when he summoned complex fire. Greta had talked about all sorts of Subaralian traditions when they had first adopted her, but less now that she had noticed how uncomfortable it seemed to make Wolfram. This world had its own religions and traditions. Yuuri didn't need to understand them to respect them as being important to someone else. Important to his friends. His family.
Now Yuuri wished he had learned at least a little more about this world's religions. About the magic that seemed to be so much a part of it. Somehow it hadn't seemed nearly so present in Shin Makoku. The capital seemed to focus on Shinou, who was as much a figure in their history as he was divine. It wasn't like people didn't treat Shinou's word as law, or weren't willing to go to great lengths to follow him. Even Conrad had betrayed him to obey Shinou. But even then, something about it had felt more political than religious.
In Lesser Gael Yuuri could feel their religion in the air, see it in everything around him. Even the ground felt sacred.
The elders of Lesser Gael were more like priests-- like Ulrike-- than they were like any of the other political leaders that Yuuri had met in this world. Their hair was covered in braids and colored rope and each of their faces was painted with its own unique pattern of blue. Their demeanor-- how every movement and word was so careful-- made Yuuri feel like he had walked into a kabuki play. Living tradition in vibrant color.
Yuuri wished he could pull Wolfram aside to get a quick explanation of things. Wolfram had always been good about explaining things to him. Good at giving rewards...
But Wolfram had been taken away by some more girls like Frith to prepare him for his visit to Ethne. Yuuri almost pouted. Wolfram's reaffirmation of his rites wasn't scheduled until dawn tomorrow, surely he shouldn't be kept so far away from him right now. Yuuri supposed he could try to ask Murata, but his friend had seemed to be in a particularly foul mood since the incident this morning, and of course there was the worry that he would be caught asking a stupid question, which would undoubtedly hurt the respect that the elders so clearly felt for him.
Now, more than ever, Yuuri couldn't afford to be a disappointment.
He sat up straighter on his cushion as the head of the elders, Master Eoin, leaned in to speak with him.
"Your Majesty," he began, even though Yuuri had asked him to use his given name a dozen times, "are you sure there is nothing else you require before the meal? The Faithe would be overjoyed to dance for you if you'd like. Or perhaps a ballad? Master Quilliam can sing the History of Three Worlds beautifully."
Yuuri could feel the blood drain from his face at the mention of the fire dances. That poor girl.
"No." Yuuri swallowed thickly. "I mean, first I need to apologize."
To his right, Murata sent him a careful glance.
Yuuri steeled himself and continued. "I am so, so sorry that I was unable to do more to save Frith." He took a breath, tried in vain to force down tears. "She was so young... It happened so fast and there was nothing I could do... I'm so sorry."
Yuuri could still see it when he closed his eyes. The blood. The way Frith's body had simply stopped. Crumpled. Tai's face in anguish. The sound of his desperate cry.
The splatter of blood on Greta's cheek.
Yuuri hadn't been able to do a thing.
Yuuri opened his eyes when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Master Eoin.
"You are not to blame for what happened." The old man's face was hard.
Yuuri bit his lip. Of course. It would make sense for them to blame Reyes. Reyes who had escaped. And yet, Reyes had only acted to protect his king. Yuuri raised a hand to wipe stale tears from his face.
The master continued, "We knew that her death was a possibility when she was sent. We also knew her master Taibhsear's death was possible." He paused, removing his hand. "As was your own."
Yuuri could feel Conrad go tense behind him. The click of metal as he touched his sword.
"What?" Yuuri sputtered in confusion. "I don't understand."
Master Eoin was perfectly still. "No one can fully understand. Perhaps they should not have gone and perhaps they should have left sooner."
Murata's glasses caught the light. "I'm sure you realize that you owe more of an explanation than that, after such a threat."
The old man shook his head. "I did not mean it to sound as a threat, and for that I apologize. You see, Frith Saw a prophecy before she and her Taibhsear were sent to Shin Makoku. A prophecy that warned of a great danger to befall Our King."
"So you believe him to be living now." Murata spoke to master Eoin but his eyes were fixed on Yuuri. "The True King of Gael."
Yuuri blinked. Was Murata insinuating that they thought Gael's True King was him? But Wolfram had said it was probably Shinou...
Master Eoin nodded. "Our King has been Seen in many of our recent prophecies, though some doubt still remains as to his identity." Then Master Eoin looked at Yuuri, blue-green eyes alight. "We have heard many great things about you, Your Majesty. When Our King's death by another king's order was prophesied we could not do nothing. You were our best hope."
"But if it wasn't Shibuya, then Tai and his Faithe were prepared to do anything to protect Gael's future King-- even if it meant an attempt on Shibuya's life."
Master Eoin lowered his head in recognition. "We had hoped it would not come to that."
"But Frith attacked Sara, not me."
"Yes," the master answered. "What we have heard from Tai indicates that the one who would attempt to kill our king was in fact King Saralegui."
Yuuri clenched his fists. No. Sara wouldn't hurt anyone-- It was Reyes. Reyes who was controlling Sara. Yuuri wouldn't believe his friend would try to hurt anyone of his own free will.
"I know it is against tradition," Murata spoke carefully. "But do you think it would be possible to hear this prophecy? Perhaps hearing it would help us to figure out the identity of Gael's True King for certain."
For a while master Eoin was silent. Then, "Alright." He leaned toward the closest of the other elders. "Taggart, would you go and fetch Kellan?"
"Yes, of course." The man nodded and stood.
Once he was gone, Master Eoin made a small gesture and platters of food began to make their way to the table, carried by men and women wearing the now-familiar blue plaid.
"While we wait, please enjoy some food." Master Eoin turned to him and smiled. "We've prepared quite the feast."
Yuuri did his best to return the smile.
* * *
Yuuri was already full by the time master Taggart returned with Kellan, and while they had waited the sky had turned from blue to purple, settling near red. Red above the now-black silhouette of the surrounding peaks. The one break in the natural walls of rock faced west, and Yuuri had watched in appreciation as the sun had lowered precisely in the pass. As if it had been the sun that sliced the stone.
When Kellan arrived so did the other Faithe, the youngest of which was pulling Wolfram by the hand. Instead of coming to kneel before them like Kellan, Wolfram and the younger girls moved to sit at another table which until now had been empty. Yuuri tried to catch his fiancé's eye, but Wolfram seemed to be absorbed in conversation with the little girl who had held his hand. He was smiling.
Yuuri worried his lip and tried to be anything instead of jealous.
"Your Majesty." Kellan bowed her head. "It is an honor to be called before you."
Yuuri gave her a nervous smile. Kellan looked like she was nearly his age and was very pretty. Like all the other times Yuuri had been introduced to pretty girls, he could feel the growing worry that soon Wolfram would find a time to pull him aside and yell. Not that Wolfram had anything to worry about. No matter how pretty any girl was, she could never compare to Wolfram. "It's an honor to meet you, too," he managed.
"Kellan is the Head of the Faithe," Master Eoin informed them. "It is only proper that she be the one to speak the prophecy to you." He looked at Kellan. "Master Taggart has informed you which one we will permit our guests to hear, I trust?"
The girl nodded and closed her eyes. When they opened again a moment later her pupils had gone impossibly wide. No white remained, only a deep darkness that seemed to pull at the light around them. She spoke. "Our King, he gives it away-- The king will take it-- The king will order it done-- The king must die, to save Our King." Her eyes snapped shut, tension leaving her back and shoulders.
Yuuri glanced at Murata, whose lips were tight with concentration.
"Thank you, Kellan," said Master Eoin. "You may go."
Kellan nodded at them again before leaving to join Wolfram and the rest of the Faithe at their table.
Yuuri watched her go and waited for Murata to explain. The word "king" had appeared so many times that to Yuuri it seemed impossible to tell who was doing what. Who was ordering, giving, or taking. He spun Wolfram's ring on his finger as he waited for the tense moment to pass.
Murata let out a long sigh before speaking. "So the prophecy speaks of at least two kings, correct? Possibly three or even four?"
"Yes, our thoughts were the same," Master Eoin answered.
Murata adjusted his glasses. "So what we can tell for certain is that the first and last mention of a king, 'Our King', refers to Gael's True King... And 'The king who must die' must have been King Saralegui, or else Frith would not have tried to kill him."
Master Eoin nodded.
"That still leaves... two more kings, right? The one who takes it and the one who makes an order?" Yuuri wondered aloud. He had to. If he didn't he would say something else. Defend Sara. Things no one else seemed to want to hear.
"Yes," Murata answered. "According to the prophecy, Gael's King gives something to another king, who takes it, whatever 'it' may be. Then a king, who could either be the one who takes it, orders it, or both, must die."
Yuuri frowned. This was impossible. Vague. How could anyone have made any kind of decision-- one that had ended in the death of an innocent little girl-- on something so vague?
Master Eoin continued. "It is also unlikely that four kings would be involved. The king who takes and the king who orders, one of them must be the same king who must die. It is unlikely that the prophecy would speak so non-specifically about someone not already mentioned."
Murata nodded in agreement. "So to simplify what we know so far... 'Gael's King will give it away; king A will take it; king A, or possibly B, will order it done; King Saralegui, who could be A or B or both, must die to save Gael's King."
Master Eoin let out a heavy sigh. "If we were positive of the identity of our king, this would not be so difficult."
Again, Yuuri worried his lip. If they knew who Gael's King was then they could try to figure out what he gave, which would eventually lead them to who had taken it, thereby solving more of the puzzle. But as far as Yuuri was concerned there were still too many variables unknown to have any hope of figuring things out for sure. Both Murata and Master Eoin seemed to believe that there was at least a chance Gael's King was him, but what had Yuuri given that would even remotely involve Sara?
Friendship? Trust? Wolfram's status as his fiancé, at least temporarily.
Yuuri twisted his ring and sighed. They were never going to figure this out. Why couldn't he just eat dinner with Wolfram... spend time alone... Anything but talk about Sara like he was evil-- about a decision based on a vague prophecy that had lead to a pointless death.
"Well, it seems like until more is known there is no way to discover the meaning of this prophecy for certain." Murata sighed. "Thank you for sharing it with us. I am sorry I was unable to provide more insight."
Master Eoin nodded.
Yuuri swallowed thickly. So casual. Both of them. "I still don't understand why you sent her to me. She died." His voice was shaking. "What about that prophecy made that decision right?" Now Yuuri had the full attention of not only master Eoin, but all of the elders. His body felt alive with power. Anger. Justice. "What purpose did the death of a child serve to your King?"
Master Eoin licked his lips before he spoke. "Any one of us-- Any member of the elders, faithe, or community would gladly die in Our King's service. The prophecy warned not only of the possibility of his death, but of the need for him to be saved from a path which will lead him toward unimaginable destruction. Of fire that consumes the world. Worse than the tragedy of Our King's death is the danger of his corruption. A darkness which leads to the deaths of millions. We did not send Frith to die, Your Majesty. We sent her in the hope that if it came to it she might help to save our world."
Yuuri barely managed to suppress the Maou's power. Hands fisted and shaking in his lap.
Behind him Conrad shifted, and Yuuri tensed in preparation for a touch of comfort that never came.
* * *
They didn't talk about prophecies for the rest of the meal. Instead, Yuuri sat in silence while Murata and Master Eoin discussed Tai's appointment as a temporary ambassador, as he was already at the castle and more than qualified.
And so Yuuri spent his time watching Wolfram.
Now that the sun had set, a mass of torches had been lit and dancing had begun in earnest. Tables had been moved aside to make room and everywhere that Yuuri looked seemed to be filled with flickering light and dancing figures. The music was much faster than the classical, waltz-style that was popular in Shin Makoku. Here there was more jumping and laughing and it all seemed so very free.
The little girl who seemed so attached to Wolfram had pulled him onto the dance floor as soon as the music had started. It had been so hard for Yuuri to keep a stupid grin off of his face as he watched. Wolfram really was great at dancing. He picked up all the steps remarkably fast and was soon caught up in the circles and lines of the dancing citizens of Lesser Gael.
Even Yozak and Gisela had gotten to try the dancing. And even though neither of them were quite as skilled as Wolfram it was clear that they were having a good time. The benefits of not being king.
Yuuri wanted to be out there dancing with Wolfram, even if he looked like an uncoordinated fool. Yuuri was so caught up with watching and wanting that he jumped a bit when master Eoin leaned closer to him to speak.
"Your friend is very lucky. Not many could survive for so long without their gift once they have had it blessed by Ethne."
"Lucky," Yuuri murmured, unable to take his eyes away from Wolfram. "I don't know what I would do without him."
"Pretty words, Shibuya," Murata teased. Then he faced master Eoin. "His Majesty and Sir Belefield are planning a wedding. Though it is happening soon, we are appallingly behind on the preparations and have yet to send out the invitations. Yourself and any other guests from Lesser Gael would be more than welcome to attend if you so choose."
Master Eoin's lips formed a careful smile. "I would be honored to attend." He looked at Yuuri. "Congratulations, Your Majesty. It is not common that one finds their anam carna so young. The gods have smiled on you."
Yuuri blushed. "Thank you." Then, "Anam carna?"
Master Eoin nodded. "Soul friend. The way you look at him. You reach with magic as well as your eyes. If you were to complete the ritual there is a potential for a merging of magic, beyond the political union."
"Shibuya's magic opposes Sir Belefield's--"
"A fact of which I am well aware. I felt His Majesty's power. It is true his bond with water conflicts with his anam carna's fire, but with magic as strong as His Majesty's I expect he would be able to achieve a more traditional union of kings."
Murata's glasses caught the light. "There is a reason the old ways are no longer practiced. It is a needless risk. A mistake would kill them."
Yuuri shivered. He had thought about enough things that could possibly kill Wolfram in the past few months to last a dozen lifetimes. He didn't even want to attempt to process another. Getting married was a big enough step as it was...
Murata put a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, Shibuya. You went from red to pale there. I guess Sir Belefield has had too many close calls of late to risk it."
Yuuri managed a nod.
"His magic tells some of the story, but not all." Master Eoin gave Murata a sharp look. "His Majesty's anam carna has fed from both of his potentials-- but not enough."
"Fed?" Murata spoke even as Yuuri opened his mouth.
"You know of what he has done, then?" Murata continued. "The ritual is so old. I haven't been able to learn all of the details."
Master Eoin sighed. "Yes, it is old. All but lost." He gave Murata a smug sort of smile. "All but lost, but without it... Well, I am surprised that your anam carna was able to do it at all. That kind of instinct speaks of power I have rarely known."
"You said fed, though." Yuuri licked his lips. "What happened with Lucien..." He couldn't bring himself to finish.
The look Master Eoin gave him was grave. "He fed off of magic. A pact that is sealed with blood. With flesh. However, he did not take enough to truly heal himself from either of them. To truly heal he would have needed to consume them completely."
Yuuri looked at Wolfram again, had to see him happy and alive. Yuuri could only imagine how much more hurt Wolfram would have been. How much Wolfram would have hated himself if he had given in.
"So he did take from both..." Murata mused. "I suspected that that was how he was able to survive."
Yuuri blinked. "What do you mean?"
"The two Sir Belefield received his rites with," Murata answered quickly, almost an aside. "Lucien we already were sure of, but since Marques was there during Sir Belefield's capture-- It not only confirms his presence, but explains how Sir Belefield was able to live long enough for you to save him."
Yuuri could feel his heart begin to race. That's right. Marques. Marques who had gotten Wolfram to Yozak and then disappeared. Wolfram had been so hurt... He probably didn't even remember it.
"Sir Belefield's jaw was broken at the time, though," Murata continued. "Would he still have been able to take Marques' magic?"
"Yes," Master Eoin answered simply. "As long as blood was drawn."
"Interesting." Murata adjusted his glasses. "If you have time before we leave I would love to talk to you more about this."
"Of course." Master Eoin bowed his head. "Your Majesty," he said to Yuuri. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like you to describe your anam carna to me. What he looks like is hidden to my eyes, behind the magic that is not his. I see a man with dark hair. Though he is handsome enough, I would like to hear of the man who has gained the favor of such a powerful king."
Yuuri blinked and felt his cheeks go hot. Master Eoin saw with magic? Couldn't see Wolfram? It must be like when they were in the tunnels... "Well he's-- he's blond... And, I suppose if you've seen a portrait of Shinou you would have a good idea of what he looks like. Everyone says Wolfram looks just like Shinou when he was younger, only Wolfram's eyes are green."
Master Eoin nodded. "I am familiar with the image of His Majesty Shinou. You are a lucky man."
Yuuri gave a nervous laugh. "Thank you." Then he folded his hands in his lap and allowed his eyes to find Wolfram again. Wolfram's face was flushed and this time when Yuuri looked at him he was looking back.
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Lesser Gael
The Following Day
An hour before dawn
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Wolfram woke feeling refreshed for the first time in months. He hadn't expected to enjoy the banquet as much as he had the previous night. The dancing in combination with a glass of mulled wine had put him into a deep sleep from the moment his head hit the pillow.
He smiled as he opened his eyes and climbed from his bed. It was still dark, but dawn would mark the day he reaffirmed his rites. The day he would get his magic back.
Wolfram had spent the night in a room of the Faithe's temple, along with Gisela and Kellan, the eldest of the Faithe. Muriel and the younger girls had their own quarters.
Yesterday Wolfram had been surprised that so much preparation had been necessary for today's ceremony. The first time he had come to Lesser Gael they had only been greeted by one of the elders. Wolfram hadn't expected to get so much attention from all of the Faithe. Or for them to act so much like little girls fawning over a new playmate. The Faithe were the most sacred remnant of the old ways. Human girls given the most precious of blessings by by the mazoku gods. A reminder of the importance that humans and demons be able to coexist.
Of course the humans failed to appreciate the sacred calling of their children. Wailed of "kidnapping". Killed the mazoku children that were offered in their place. No matter how much Yuuri loved the humans, there were some practices Wolfram knew he could never forgive.
Wolfram's smile had faded by the time he had finished preparing for the day. Though he had slept in a separate room and it was still well before dawn, he couldn't bring himself to be surprised to see Yuuri, smiling sleepily at him from the table that had been laid with an array of food. Conrad, Yozak and the Sage were there as well, along with one of the elders.
Yuuri stood to greet him, forgetting of course that it was inappropriate and would force all those already seated to stand. Then Yuuri rushed forward to hug him.
"Yuuri," he whispered disapprovingly, but the wimp only held him tighter.
"Don't," Yuuri breathed. "I missed you."
Even though it was stupid, Wolfram found himself smiling again. Allowed himself to enjoy the moment. Feel how much Yuuri had missed him.
Yuuri stepped back and smiled, leaving them both blushing from the incredibly public display.
No one mentioned anything over the silence as they all took their seats. Yuuri's eyes lingered on him, though, and so did the warm feeling at being the center of his wimp's attention.
"So." Yuuri licked his lips. "Today is the day. How are you feeling? Nervous?"
"You seem nervous enough for the both of us," Wolfram teased, hiding his smirk behind his cup as he took a sip of hot honeyed milk.
Yuuri pouted and it was unendingly cute.
Wolfram did his best not to grin. Getting his magic back combined with the rush of sweet made it all to easy to be happy about other things. The excitement of what was to come. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so happy. This hope. Hope for magic. Real hope for a life with Yuuri.
They were going to get married.
This time Wolfram didn't even try to hide his smile.
Breakfast was eaten for the most part in silence. Wolfram was seated next to Yuuri and he was able to keep the wimp's obvious concern at bay by indulging him in the occasional, though subtle, brush of hand or foot.
Or so he thought.
"It's going to be okay, right?" Yuuri gave the elder a pleading look. "Wolfram is going to get his magic back and everything will be fine?"
"We can't be certain, Shibuya," the Sage answered. "I've told you that a dozen times."
Kellan put down her cup. "Actually, we can be certain," she said softly. "Sir Belefield's connection to his magic is very great. Ethne is already excited. Her hopes are almost overwhelming."
"It is true." The elder nodded. "I've never felt anything close to this from the mountain." Then he gave Wolfram a strange look.
"That's good then?" Yuuri asked. "Ethne wouldn't be excited to do anything bad to Wolfram?"
"I have a feeling that your anam carna will be fine, Your Majesty," the elder assured.
Anam carna?
Wolfram looked at the elder. Was he daft? Yuuri had already taken Water. Still... A bond like that would ensure Yuuri was his until they died. A tantalizing prospect, though it was impossible.
Wolfram sighed. At least now Yuuri seemed to be somewhat reassured, and Wolfram found himself once again the subject of Yuuri's gaze.
"So, what do you have to do? Is it the same thing as before? What did you have to do the first time?" Yuuri leaned closer to him to speak.
Wolfram shook his head. "Nothing terribly complicated. We just took turns going before Ethne to receive our blessing." Wolfram could remember being so nervous the first time. Having to go into the mountain alone, naked. The awe of standing before a god. Wolfram could only remember being there for a moment, but somehow his blessing had taken much longer than both Marques and Lucien's. Strange, though, how now all he could feel was elation. No nervousness at all. Perhaps it had something to do with the excitement of Ethne the Faithe could feel.
Whatever it was, Wolfram could hardly wait for the dawn.
* * *
The sun was just beginning to peek above the mountains, casting the world in grey. Wolfram did his best to sit still as Kellan's fingers traced the contours of his face in prayer. He opened his eyes when her motion stopped to see her looking at him with an unreadable gaze.
"The world has been too cruel. Take comfort in your healing." The she bowed and left him. Alone before the entrance.
Patterns of blue crawled from the depths of the cave. Painted centuries upon centuries ago. The patterns told the story of how the world began in a language lost to all but the collective memory of the Faithe. It told of the origin of the gods and of the sorrows and wars between them. Of the fire and water, wind and stone that together had made the world. Of how their power had been too great and they had been trapped in prisons of their own design, no longer able to travel freely on a world of their own making. A sacrifice for the children of this world.
Through their blessings, the power of the gods was able to walk with the footsteps of their chosen people. Over fifty years ago Ethne had chosen him. Ethne had freed the magic he had been born with. Channeled it into something he could use. And in all his life that power was the only thing that had ever earned him respect.
Wolfram took a deep breath and finished taking off his clothes. Even though he was surrounded by dense woods and no one was permitted to come near the sacred space, it was still unnerving being so naked. Another breath and Wolfram headed into the darkness of the cave. The rock was warm and smooth beneath his feet and only got hotter the farther he walked.
Soon the dim light from outside faded completely and left him to the darkness and the bare echo of his footsteps. Occasionally his vision would flash, revealing only more and more open space. An unending wound of rock.
After a while Wolfram could feel sweat begin to trail between his shoulder blades, bead on his neck and forehead. His heart pounded in his ears and he tried to remember if he had really walked so far the first time.
And then the cave was filled with fire.
Wolfram covered his face-- felt the flames lap at his skin. Threading through his hair.
But none of it burned.
Bright One. The fire cooed, crackling in his ears as it pressed against him. I missed you so.
Wolfram shivered. Opened his eyes against the light.
The fire danced around him. Giddy laughter filled his head. Surrounded his thoughts. I waited so long for one like you. For you to be ready. To come back to me.
"What?" Wolfram wanted to say, but the world was swallowed by the flames.
And then the hot-- the crackling bright-- had found its way inside-- pouring in his mouth. Wolfram couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The fire burned without burning. Everywhere was heat and there was no place for it to stop.
The fire roared. Joy. Rapture--
There is so much room. He used you-- the once mortal king. Used what's mine.
Everything seemed to move faster. More moments to fill with fire.
Do not worry, my Bright One. I have waited far too long, to wait for another now.
The fire laughed. Cackled in its joy as it filled him. Until there was nothing left. Nothing left to feel.
And then he was nothing but the fire. But the mountain. But magic.
And for a moment he was gone.
Then everything was pain.
The fire screamed.
The fire screamed and everything stopped.
* * *
It was dark. The floor was hard where Wolfram sat. A wooden floor.
Panic.
Panic until there was the brush of soft fabric against his cheek and Wolfram realized he was in another place entirely. Somewhere safe. The closet of his childhood bedroom. What once had been his favorite place to hide.
Wolfram pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the creek.
It really was his old bedroom, complete with a pile of Gwendal's knitted creatures stacked upon his bed. Wolfram stepped out of the closet, noticing that even though his room was unchanged from the time he was a child, he was still his current size. Wearing his blue lieutenant's uniform, cravat tight and comforting against his throat.
And then he turned and there was Shinou, sitting in the armchair by the door.
Whatever calm the familiarity of his room and dress had given vanished instantly. He was dead.
He was dead.
"You are not dead, Sir Belefield." Shinou smirked and stood. "And very soon you are to be more alive than you have ever been."
"What?" Wolfram took a step back in awe as Shinou approached.
"I don't have a lot of time, so you're going to have to listen instead of asking questions." Shinou crossed his arms.
Wolfram managed a nod.
"First I must apologize for far too much. For using your body while I was corrupted by Soushi, and for leaving a small part of myself there after I became free of him."
Wolfram opened his mouth, but managed to stop the question.
Shinou gave him another smirk. "I used those memories as a shield of sorts, to keep you from finding me. I had a feeling you wouldn't be one to... think too hard on such intimate moments from long ago."
Wolfram could feel his cheeks get hot. Intimate moments indeed.
"I learned a lot about you, before you were even born. I could feel you coming, though I wasn't sure it was you until I was too far under Soushi's power to have much influence. Until we shared your body. I could feel the seeds that Ethne had sewn the first time you had your blessing. Her plans to use your potential for her own selfishness." He fixed Wolfram with a hard look. "You have a complicated destiny, Sir Belefield, one too great for me to risk entirely up to fate." Then he sighed and retook his seat, legs crossed and eyes a weary blue.
"What do you mean?" Wolfram couldn't help but ask. "What plans? What destiny?"
Another sigh. "Ethne wanted to steal your form as I once did. Her power is very great, and it was likely that she would see more days than you. Your magic has always been so much more than most, Sir Belefield. Ethne planned to abuse this connection that you have to walk the world again. She would have stolen your body, your life. And would have likely set many lives ablaze before our Yuuri would be able to bring himself to stop you."
Wolfram swallowed thickly. "And now?"
"Now you should be able to contain her most of the time. This is not the first time a god has tried to walk, you know. I was able to handle it quite well the last time." A wink.
"The Maou," Wolfram breathed. "But how... How do you know this? How were you able to--"
"Being me has its advantages." Shinou smirked. "Anyway, setting this trap for Ethne within you, among other things, has kept me from visiting others who would have missed me. I still have a great deal more to do, but you'll send my apologies to the Sage, won't you?"
Wolfram nodded. His mind was spinning. This was all too much.
And then the room began to dim.
"Wait!" Wolfram rushed forward.
But it was too late.
********
********
Lesser Gael
Borderlands
Later that day
********
Yuuri squirmed on the overstuffed cushion covering his carriage seat. Though it was a much more comfortable carriage than the one they had taken to meet Wolfram in Habalouge, Yuuri still hadn't expected to spend the day sitting down. He tried leaning against the wall to his right and sighed. At least this time he got to spend the ride looking at Wolfram.
Kellan had come to them this morning after Wolfram had started his ritual to reaffirm and had all but insisted that they begin to make ready for their departure. She and some of the other Faithe had brought them this fancy carriage and more than enough supplies to get them all to Caloria. Everything had been prepared by the time Wolfram had returned from the woods, tired and all but glowing from his success.
Wolfram had his magic back. Yuuri smiled as he let the comforting thought wash over him for the hundredth time.
They had left soon after Wolfram's return. Looking back, Yuuri felt a little weird about the fact that he didn't get to say goodbye to the elders or anyone else. Kellan had assured them that everything was fine and Yuuri had been so happy that everything was going to be alright that he hadn't really thought about it at the time. Yuuri brushed his concerns aside. Murata would have said something if it wasn't alright.
Wolfram was currently sitting across from him in the tiny carriage, eyes closed as he rested his head against the curtain-covered wall. Murata had decided to sit in the driver's seat with Gisela, and Yozak and Conrad were riding one in front and the other behind, leaving Yuuri alone in the tiny carriage with Wolfram.
Of course, the walls were thin and there was no glass in the windows, so there was little chance that they would get up to anything inappropriate.
But a little chance was still a chance.
Yuuri left Wolfram in peace for a few minutes more before shifting over to squeeze into the small space beside him. Wolfram let out an annoyed grunt and shifted, but there was enough room that if Yuuri twisted a bit he didn't have to worry about falling anywhere during the turns. Wolfram opened the eye closest to him and pouted.
Yuuri only grinned. "Hi."
Wolfram closed his eyes and crossed his legs. "Don't start anything you can't finish, Wimp."
It was Yuuri's turn to pout. There was sweat beading on Wolfram's neck and all he wanted was to lick it off. He grumbled instead and contented himself with studying Wolfram's profile. Then he reached out and touched his nose. Something he had never done.
Wolfram opened his eyes to blink at him. "What?"
"It sticks out-- more than people like me is all. I like it." A blush.
Wolfram furrowed his brows. "Glad to know I stand a chance against your Earth standards."
"It's not an Earth thing, it's a Japan-- or really... well, never mind. I just like you... is what I was trying to say." Yuuri mumbled.
For a moment Wolfram only looked at him, then snorted. A smirk teased the corner of his mouth while he pretended to study the curtains.
Yuuri grinned and continued to enjoy his profile. Nose. Lips. Then he blinked and shifted closer.
"What are you doing?"
"Your eyelashes." Yuuri reached out to touch. "They're so long."
Wolfram closed his eyes to humor the gesture and Yuuri ran his fingers over the soft skin of his eyelid. Brushed over his eyebrows. "Really, now. What's all this, Wimp?"
Yuuri snuggled closer to put his head on Wolfram's shoulder. Breathe his scent. "I'm just glad you're alright. And... And you're ignoring me."
Wolfram raised a hand to ruffle his hair. "Sorry... I've just..." A sigh. "I have a lot to think about."
"About what?" Yuuri rubbed his cheek against the warmth of Wolfram's shoulder.
A pause. "I'll tell you more later. I just... I just need to think."
Yuuri made a noise to show his displeasure, but it only earned him another hair ruffle and more silence. Once again, Yuuri allowed his eyes to wander. And then he noticed it.
Wolfram was hard.
For a second Yuuri forgot to breathe. He licked his lips and shifted closer. "Wolf?" Then he put his hand on Wolfram's thigh... moved closer--
"Don't."
Yuuri pulled away to look at him. "But why?"
Wolfram's eyes were a stunning green. Almost glowing-- but then he blinked and the light was gone. "If I start," he whispered, tangling his fingers in Yuuri's hair. Keeping him at a distance though their foreheads were close enough to touch. "If I start I won't stop."
Yuuri's breaths were short. He whimpered. "Then don't stop."
Wolfram closed his eyes and shivered. "I don't know what I'm capable of right now. I can't-- Just please. I'm not ignoring you. You know I want this, too. I just-- Not now." Then he moved away. To the seat that Yuuri had occupied earlier. His pants were still distractingly tight-- tented-- even as brought up his ankle to rest on his knee to try to hide it. Cheeks flushed. Eyes dark.
Yuuri wanted him so much.
Wolfram gave him a sad sort of smile. "Later. I promise."
"But..." Yuuri whined, "I don't want to wait. It feels like I've been waiting forever."
"No, Yuuri." Wolfram narrowed his eyes. "I waited."
And the heat in Yuuri's blood went cold. "Oh," he managed. "I mean-- I'm sorry-- I--"
"Stop." Wolfram sighed. "That's done. Just let me have a moment, alright?"
Yuuri bit his lip and nodded. Wolfram closed his eyes again and Yuuri took the opportunity to readjust what was left of his erection to a more comfortable place.
He could never forget. He had made so many mistakes.
So many things to make right.
********
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Go on to Next Part
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AN:
I hope you all loved dip_eiffel_tea's Awesome Art!. Please be sure to tell her so! <3
Also, in case anyone missed it, andreanna illustrated That Night from chapter 3.(Images NSFW)
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Thank all of you for reading and giving me support through your wonderful comments. It means the world. <3