There will be magic, chapter 77, RukaxYomi, KaixRuki, AoixReita, UruhaxAsagi, Ni-yaxSakitoxHitsugi
Title: There will be magic
Author: yukigafuru
Chapters: 77/?
Pairings: RukaxYomi, KaixRuki, AoixReita, UruhaxAsagi, Ni~yaxSakitoxHitsugi for now
Bands: Gazette, Naitomea, D... (and a surprise)
Rating: PG-15-PG-17 overall
Warnings: will be angst, yaoi, threesome, a bit of gore here and there, light mpreg
Genre: AU, Angst, Romance
Disclaimer:
I am not connected to the real persons. This is just a figment of my imagination and I don't make any money nor profit in any way out of this (well, except gathering your love that is).
Summary:
The age of magic and mystery is coming towards its end. But what if someone that has the gift to see the future can join forces with others who have the power to stop it? What will be born then? What will be found?
Chapter 77
The ship was now advancing at record speed, driven by a strong breeze and a motivated crew. Confronted with the fact that they had somehow steered the ship off course, all the hands on deck had resolved to redeem themselves in front of their king and his friends and as a result, the vessel was steadily heading towards the direction set by Yomi. As a result, the distance by which they had passed the island before, miles upon miles, all gathered in the span of about five days, were now recovered in less than half that time.
On the twilight of the fourth day since changing course, just before the sun dipped beyond the horizon and made navigation at the same pace hard to maintain, on the horizon, land appeared, a thin strip of dark amidst a sea of blue, purple and red.
“Land ahead!” Came the shout that brought almost everyone on deck. From that point forward, for the next couple of hours, they sailed straight for that patch of hope visible on the horizon. By the time that the sun had completely disappeared and the shine of the moon and stars were the only pointers left, the strip of land had become an island with an imposing looking watchtower, surrounded by never-ending fields of forget-me-nots.
This was the point at which Ruki descended to wake Aoi and let him know they had finally reached their destination. As expected, it only took him moments to be on deck and right around the time that the wind was finally caressing his long ebony locks, Cha swooped on deck and landed on his shoulders.
It should have been impossible to tell since he was only an owl after all, but Aoi thought he could see the sadness in his posture.
“I'm sorry he got took away, Aoi. But my master says he is unharmed.” He cooed in the mishepishu's ear.
“You can see him?” He gasped in reply.
“Yes. I assure you he is fine and healthy, together with the baby.”
Aoi almost sagged in relief. Cha then flew away and chose another shoulder to use as a perch, this time, a rather high and muscular one.
“How does it feel?”
“How does what feel?” The king asked in return.
“Now don't play guessing games with me, mister. He's waiting for you, you know. Has been for a while. You certainly took your sweet time in getting here.”
He did not receive a reply. The dragon was finding it hard as it was to simply sit still and let the ship slowly approach the narrow bay, when he himself in his other form could have been there in the blink of an eye. Still, they had made it so far, what was a few hours more? He reasoned and remained on deck.
He stood there gazing at the tower's crenels and windows and thought he saw a shadow in the fading light, a shadow that disappeared immediately after.
Finally, after what seemed like ages and unending maneuvers, the anchor was thrown, the vessel was tied to the pier, the bridge had been lowered and every living thing on the vessel descended and placed their feet on dry land. Cha then took off with a “Follow me, maties,” and no one stayed behind.
The dragon felt like leaping, running, flying across the distance, but again stayed in line with his other friends, comforted only by the thought that Aoi's suffering seemed to be as big if not bigger than his own. I really shouldn't take comfort in that. His consciousness warned but his heart leaped though, in grand flights across seconds and minutes, for he was finally there, on the verge of meeting his mate, the only person to whom he could open his heart once more - perhaps even without fear of having it trampled.
The watchtower rose high against the dark night sky, with stars surrounding it all around and the moon in its position exactly behind it, so that the shadow of the tower cast by the moon hid the landscape on their right and the tower itself. Even so, it looked like an ancient edifice, built with huge granite stones of an origin shrouded in mystery for it seemed that no where on the island could the materials have come from. On its left side, grand patches of moss gave a hairy aspect to the structure while a couple small windows at the top, the door at the bottom and the crenels here and there scattered along the side made the tower seem surprisingly alike the scarred wrinkled face of some pathetic old man.
Only the dragon climbed towards the top of the tower, the others instructed by Cha to wait outside, that once the two would be reunited, the prophet would come straight down and see that all their needs were properly attended. The door screeched upon the dragon king's entrance, welcoming him, while the soft light of the torches set on the walls, casting their myriads of shadows made his journey up the winding narrow steps less frightening than expected.
A curtain hid the small room at the top of the tower from his view and with a trembling hand, he swept aside the billowing silvery fabric. I'm trembling like a child about to be scolded by his mother. He caught himself thinking and willed his hand to still and his nerves to relax. His eyes first set upon a figure standing in the window, motionless in the light of the moon, his back turned towards the dragon. Due to the shadow cast by the night's sun, he could scarcely make out the color of the toga-like clothing the other wore - a light blue - and due to the fabric of the clothing itself, and the fact that it was being swept away by the wind one way and the other, the king only glimpsed the silhouette of his lover. He would have approached him, only that the stillness and peacefulness of the room, together with the prophet's turned back stopped him from advancing and prevented him from uttering a sound.
Finally, the other turned and spoke and the world shattered and then became joined again around the dragon and his mate.
“You came.” Was the deep voice, smooth like honey and just as fragrant and sweet to the dragon's ears.
“You waited.” Seemed like a good answer, seeing as he was tongue-tied by his awe at the being in front of him: golden tresses, soft, deep blue eyes, so clear they seemed able to cut through hearts like diamond through lesser stones, milky white skin, high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes, a small plump mouth, long neck, strong but lithe shoulders and and a long sinewy body. To the dragon, it all spelled perfection.
“Do you know me?”
His heart did. “I do.”
“Then speak my name, and so I shall speak yours and forever will we be bound.”
Just like that? He wondered yet did not doubt. It was hard to doubt anything when under the scrutiny of those eyes.
“You.” It came natural, for he could not imagine another name for his love. To him, he was everything and yet a seemingly unattainable being, he was all the lovers he had known surpassed by far and he was the only one.
“Satoru.” Came his name, spoken with the same tones, from the same tongue, with the same warmth, a name only his mother used to use, a name that no one in centuries had called him by since her death. It was not his kingly name, it was not the name chosen for himself as so many kings had done before them, to symbolize their strength and grandeur, it was a name given from love, because of love and a name that he secretly loved himself.
The magic had not been broken by movement and truly, if asked when You had moved, he could not reply. In the blink of an eye he stood before him, a paragon of beauty, a star descended upon the earth and the dragon found himself in the incredible position of reaching towards the stars and touching one.
His left palm rose towards a soft cheek and once the light feathery contact was established, his body sprung alive, fire racing from his veins. His arms and body reacted accordingly and he found himself meshing his lips against his lover's, sliding their bodies into an embrace as perfect as the being in front of him. They fit like pieces of a puzzle or like stars upon the firmament and they fit perfectly.
The kiss was sweet yet laced with the passion of many nights of yearning, with just a hint of tongue gently exploring new territory. They would have fallen together and spent days and nights exploring each other and their connection that sprung to life with such intensity, but it was the situation itself that forced them to gradually place some space between them, with small feathery kisses exchanged during the lengthy and painful process. Not being in You's arms seemed like a cruel form of torture now that he had known love's sweet poison, but the dragon was nothing but resilient and he felt it in his bones: the loud drumming of “soon, it will be over soon.”
“Let's put Aoi at ease, shall we?” You said and the dragon nodded. They descended the steps.
At the bottom of the tower, they were met by an audience on needles, among which Aoi the most suffering.
“I am the prophet and your journey is near its end.” Was the declaration that greeted them.
The mishepishu didn't seem to be in the mood for conversation, for he stopped You before he could finish his otherwise short speech.
“Is he okay? Can I see him?”
You's eyes were soft and understanding and his nod came as a balm to Aoi's grieving heart. With only a few gestures and lulled words, out of the air, a bubble of water appeared and it grew and grew until it came to be the size of a small mirror, inside it a silvery fog, through which gradually a figure appeared. Aoi gasped. His love seemed unharmed though sad, and his unborn child filled nicely the body of his father.
“I'm sorry I can't make it so that you are able to talk with him. The spells around the Necra's castle are too strong.”
“Have you been watching him?” Aoi questioned.
“From time to time. Amongst other things.”
“Has anything happened?” He dared to ask.
You looked unsettled and not sure how to answer. He hated to lie but he also did not wish to anger or sadden the other man.
“Nothing that Reita himself should wish you bitter over now that you are on the verge of meeting him.”
Aoi bit his tongue to avoid further questioning about the topic. He desperately needed to know, but he also was aware that such knowledge could lead him into taking some stupid steps that could endanger their lives.
“When?” He did ask and the prophet immediately understood his query.
“Tomorrow. At dawn.” Came the decision hard and loud as glass shattering upon impact.
“Meanwhile, is there anything we need to do?” Gackt asked, his hand safely wrapped around his lover's middle. There was no chance he'd leave You's side now that he finally had him.
“I have spells to prepare and a few other things to take care of, amongst which your lodging here on the island. Food, I could conjure but I think it would be easier to simply bring it from your cargo supply.”
“What about our questions? What all this means... why we have been gathered here.” It was a thought everyone had had at some point. Why if the prophet was the key to everything, had there been such heartache and love found during their journey?
“It was never about me. I am the final piece, if you will, as well as the one that holds the answers but that is all. It has always been about you, about the several sides of a whole, different kinds of love, various friendships you make along the way. Do you remember the legends?”
“Which one?” Ruki wondered. He was concerned if it was that of the Sumarg. You watched him with knowing eyes but did not comment upon that bit.
“No. Of the Necra and the medallions and the end of the world.”
“Why don't you tell it from the start, love?” The dragon asked. “Legends are after all only legends and for once, we'd like to have the whole answer.”
“Very well. Watch.” And just like before, images appeared surrounded by a thin bubble of water. “There has always been light and darkness, good and evil, and magic can only exist when they are evenly matched and when the faith in magic is still strong, when there are beings that use the ancient forces. But every few hundreds of years, something causes the balance to shift. Most often it's small like a grain of sand, like a boulder of snow tumbling down a mountain's side, slowly gathering snow in its path, until it reaches the bottom and paints the whole landscape white.
The dragons' retreat when faced with the humans' threat is that small grain. Humans believe in magic, but only in an unclear concept of it. They see it but they do not wield it, they cannot understand it and therefore they have no faith in it. They would sooner choose a world without magic than one with it. When the dragons refused to form alliances and fight, the whole magical world took in their examples. The vampires camouflaged their existence as well, rocs fled to the skies, kitsunes hit in the forests, others retreated across the seas. Without an apparent reason, such as another human attack, these beings fled and hid from sight and longstanding alliances amongst magical beings became null and void.
Humans multiplied and spread across the land, while the magical beings populations' dwindled or stayed the same. The ratio of beings wielding magic versus those that do not shifted and so, the web of magic began to tore around the seems. But where a web tears, other more stubborn strands cling together and so, the Necra was born, amidst bloodshed and decay and a world of sin, created by the humans. The Necra is the soul of the age carrying Asagi's face.
The Necra sees himself as an avenger. He would like nothing more but to destroy the humans, but to him that is simply not enough. He wishes to be the only magic wielder in the world, to amass within himself all the different magics. He figures that strands without a web are perfect for threading into a cloth of his own choice. He ignores the legends and knowledge of the past and refuses to listen to the soul of existence itself, of nature that is suffering.
He has great power, but while his power is yet not complete, there is a way for it to be stolen away, and it is of course in the form of a web. Where there is unbalance, there must be a way to set things right and in this case, where hate and pain tip the scales to one side, love, friendship and acceptance tip the other.
You of course form that web, whose eyes are the four medallions you wear. And some will start wearing tonight.” He added, looking intently towards Sakito, Hitsugi and Ni~ya. “With some, the medallion is old and strong, infused with the wisdom of the ancient gods.” He gestures towards Aoi and Ruki and Kai and a misty shape of the two medallions was formed in the air. “With others, it will be new, a symbol of the age to come and of great change.” He tightens his own palm, resting upon Gackt's arm, and looks in Ni~ya's direction. “The medallions are placed towards the four corners of the world, four ancient gods guarding them: Suzaku to the south, Genbu to the North, Byakko in the West and Seiryuu to the East. In the Center stands no symbol, no medallion, but creation itself: life and death. The creation of light amidst darkness: Asagi, eternal life surpassing death but not love: Uruha, love surpassing death, but not life for you are not truly immortal, Ruka and the fragility and beauty of it all, the pureness existent in all nature's creatures: Yomi. The sacrifice will present itself at the right time.”
“And the right time is tomorrow.” Sakito said.
“The gods are in the right positions, circling around the center. But we must have the four medallions by then.”
“How exactly do we create one?” Ni~ya asked.
“There is no method. Each medallion is as unique as his owners are.”
“With the other two, it appeared in life-threatening or life-changing situations.” Ruka commented.
“But we have been through plenty of those.” Sakito replied.
“Truly united?” Ruka insisted.
“There is no method.” You barged in on the discussion. “Although it is said that the medallion appears when there are no longer any barriers between souls. But like you can imagine, there are many kinds of barriers...”
“Do you know how yours is formed?” Hitsugi asked in the soft tones so characteristic to the gentle soul. You thought it wise to answer simply with a firm nod.
The wishful “I wish I had some seer abilities.” that came from Ni~ya put a smile on both Asagi's and You's faces.
“Enough of this.” Gackt finally ordered. His patience had been tried enough and so much talk of joining had aroused passions that since meeting his lover, were not lodged so deep within him anymore. “Those of us that have duties to attend to, do so... The others that can rest, I am sure the vessel or what You will arrange will be suitable for one night.” He then gazed sadly at Aoi knowing that he did not fall in this categories.
With the wave of the prophet's hand, stalks of wheat wove together and formed small huts, fit for one, two or three persons, scattered at quite a distance from each other, all over the surrounding fields. “There is light, water and a soft bed within.” You accompanied the creation by an explanation and all except one hurried to one of the original temporary lodgings. Aoi remained forlorn, looking at them, before he seemed to make a move to return to the ship. “Aoi” You urged. “The beds are more comfortable than the hammocks on the ship and I can send Cha with you, if you prefer. With him there, you can also gaze upon Reita's sleeping form at your heart's content.” He offered and not in vain.
Aoi's eyes seemed to regain some of their dark sparkle and You spoke the spell once more.
“It is done. Cha?”
“And here I am, forced to spend the night with this ungrateful, humorless oaf.” Cha muttered, the bird trailing obediently after Aoi. The mishepishu's lips' corners twitched and Cha would have felt honored if he had seen it.
“Come, love. The nights is young and there is much we need to do.” You beckoned towards the tower and there was nothing Gackt would rather do more. His walk had a spring to it it hadn't had in many many years, revealing of the fact that he had quite a many things to do on his mind too, all having in common one thing: white creamy skin close to his.
A/N: My bunnies are starving, therefore the reason this post has been so late. I apologize to those that do read and comment early and for you guys, I was thinking somehow releasing this earlier, but truth is it's a bit difficult to write when life is as it is and my bunnies are starving for attention. Therefore, to all those readers. I really am not picky about comments. Just knowing you're there helps.