Split the Sky
Disclaimer: Kyou Kara Maou is the property of creator Tomo Takabayashi and licensor Geneon Entertainment, Inc.
This fic was written for the fanfiction contest at the LiveJournal community kkmwolframfans.
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"Once, when the world was young, there was a soldier who was so brave and loyal that he had been honored as a hero twenty times over."
Wolfram smiled up at his Big Big Brother. "How many honors have you had, Brother? A hundred?" To Wolfram, a hundred seemed like a very big number, but even at ten years old, he knew that both of his big brothers were special. A hundred honors would be easy for them.
Gwendal's eyebrow twitched. "It's not important. Do you want to hear the story or not?"
Hugging his stuffed bear-that-looked-like-a-pig closer, Wolfram nodded silently. His Big Big Brother was so busy all the time with duties and training and other things that put more wrinkles in his forehead that he never had much time for Wolfram. Wolfram had actually been surprised that, when he'd asked about why the black clouds outside his window made lightning and thunder when the white clouds didn't, Gwendal had taken a seat on the edge of his bed and agreed to tell him the tale of how the first storm came to be.
Gwendal glanced at Wolfram to ensure that he was paying proper attention, and then he continued his story. "As I said, the soldier was the most famous in the kingdom, and he was known far and wide for the courageous deeds he had done in service to his country. But even as acclaimed as he was and as many suitors lavished their attentions upon him, he had never known true love.
"One day, as the soldier was walking along the tallest cliff overlooking the village on his way home from battle, he saw a woman so beautiful and full of grace that the sun seemed dull in comparison to her radiance. Her hair was the color of cherry wood, and her skin was as smooth and soft as the petal of a night lily. When her eyes met his, the soldier was pulled into their depths, and he knew then that this woman would be his love."
Wolfram wanted to ask what this all had to do with thunder and lightning, but he kept silent. If he was with Little Big Brother, he would have said something, but Big Big Brother hated being interrupted.
"But," Gwendal said, his voice a little bit quiet, "the woman had no interest in being the wife of a soldier. 'You are handsome,' she said to the soldier, 'and you are brave. But I would be lonely when you went off to battle, and I would fear that we would never meet again.' Hearing this, the soldier was saddened, but he knew that he could not give up. This woman was his true love; they had been fated to find each other. He had fought many battles that seemed hopeless, yet he had always relied on his strength and will to lead him to victory. So he looked at his love and asked her what he could do, what great task he could perform, to prove himself and to convince her to be his wife. The woman thought for a moment, and then said, 'If you will give me the sky, I will marry you.'"
"But Brother," Wolfram began, "how could he give someone the sky? It's so big!"
Gwendal issued a reprimanding stare, but Wolfram always noticed that Gwendal's stare was less mean with him than it was with everyone else. It was still enough to make Wolfram close his mouth and leave his question unanswered, though.
Gwendal cleared his throat before continuing. "That very day, the soldier began to search the kingdom for a way to bring down the sky. He sought the tallest tree in the forest, but the high branches weren't strong enough to climb. He sought the mother of the gray-winged eagles, but the sky slipped through her mighty talons when she tried to pull it down. He sought out the Wise Man at his home in the cave beside the river, but the Wise Man said that the sky was too great for any one person to possess. The soldier grieved for three days and three nights because he knew that no matter his greatness, he could never bring down the sky. On the fourth day, he heard tell of a person who had been stranded at sea and had bargained with the West Wind to blow him back to shore. At this, the soldier rejoiced, for his hope was restored that he could find a way to give his love the sky.
"The soldier traveled across the desert and over the plains to the home of the West Wind, which legend foretold would be on the peak of the tallest mountain in the world. The soldier bowed so low that his head touched the dirt, and begged for the West Wind to blow down the sky so he could give it to his love. The West Wind was touched by the soldier's devotion, but said that he could not blow down the sky. Hearing this, the soldier wept, for all his hope was lost. The West Wind felt great sadness for the soldier, and so he began to blow. He blew with such force that all the clouds were sent fleeing from the sky, leaving it so clear and blue that it seemed to reach down and touch the earth. The West Wind told the soldier to seek out his love and tell her that the clouds would not return as long as their love was true, so that she might look upon the pure blue sky forever.
"The soldier thanked the West Wind and hurried home, so that he could show his love what he had done for her. He ran to the tallest cliff overlooking the village, where he knew that his love would be waiting. But when he arrived, he found his love in the arms of another, both of them staring at the cloudless sky and whispering to each other about how beautiful it was."
Wolfram covered his mouth to hide his gasp of surprise at the cruelty of the soldier's true love. Big Big Brother always said that love was fleeting, but Wolfram couldn't understand how anyone could be so callous.
"When he saw this," Gwendal went on, "the soldier cried out in grief and ran himself through with his blade. Violent winds rushed along the land, returning the clouds to the sky as the West Wind's spell was broken. As the wind blew over the soldier, it gathered drops of his blood and tears and took them to the clouds. When the blood reached the clouds, they were overcome by the soldier's sorrow and they turned as black as night. When the tears reached the clouds, they cried too, showering the land with rain. When the clouds felt the soldier's anger, they sent lightning toward the earth to remind his love of her misdeeds. When the clouds heard the soldier's echoing cry, they cried out with their thunder so that his love would hear them always.
"So," Gwendal finished, "when lightning splits the sky and the thunder rolls, it is the soldier reminding us that with love, comes pain. That is the lesson of the storm."
Wolfram pulled his blankets over his chin and clutched his stuffed bear. He began to worry that the soldier might come to seek his revenge the next time that a storm was overhead, but he tried hard not to be scared. Big Big Brother said that being scared was a sign of weakness, so Wolfram told himself not to be afraid. "Brother, are Mazoku who control the storm trying to be mean and hurt people?"
Gwendal raised his eyebrows as he looked at Wolfram. "Those who use water magic are full of passion. They are determined and ofttimes stupidly guileless, but rarely cruel. They are also optimistic and steadfast; enough to tame even those with the hottest of temperaments. That is why they and fire wielders are compatible."
Wolfram made a sour face. His family had always been Fire Mazoku and he was already in training to carry on the proud tradition. "I'll never make friends with a water magic user! They might make trouble for my fire."
The corner of Gwendal's mouth rose a bit in an almost-smile. "Yes, but not the kind of trouble you think." Wolfram opened his mouth to ask what his brother had meant, but Gwendal spoke again before he got the chance. "You will understand when you meet one. And when you do," he continued, his almost-smile fading, "remember what I have told you about the storm."
Wolfram nodded, giving his Big Big Brother a wide smile and trying to hide the fact that he was shaking a bit. "I will, Brother!"
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Three nights after Wolfram had made that promise to his Big Big Brother, there was a storm. The lightning was so bright that the light penetrated even through the thick curtains on his window, and the thunder was so loud that Covenant Castle seemed to shake. Wolfram had pulled the blankets and the pillow over his head, but he couldn't keep the light or the noise away. He began to worry that perhaps the soldier from Gwendal's story was going to come down and seek vengeance for his betrayal...and the next thing Wolfram knew, he was rushing down the corridor, his stuffed bear in one hand and a blanket in another, trying to get to his Little Big Brother's room.
It wasn't that he was scared. Wolfram knew that someone strong would never be scared of a storm, no matter how loud the thunder or if the lightning seemed close enough that it might come through your window. So he wasn't scared, not even when the thunder snapped just as he passed one of the tall windows in the hall. If he happened to jump a little, it was only because he was surprised and nothing more.
And he certainly wasn't going to Conrad's room because he wanted someone next to him while he slept; it was because he needed to warn Conrad. What if the soldier came for his revenge during the storm and Conrad wasn't prepared to fight? The sense of relief that rushed through Wolfram when Conrad's calm voice answered the knock on his bedroom door was only so intense because it meant that Conrad was all right.
Conrad was seated in a lounging position on his bed when Wolfram opened the door. "Wolfram?" Conrad asked, looking up from the thick book that was held open in his hands. "What's the matter?"
Wolfram held his stuffed bear just a little closer. "Big Big Brother told me about the storm and how the soldier is mad at everyone, and I wanted to make sure..." Wolfram paused, not sure how to finish his sentence. Little Big Brother could take care of himself, but...
Conrad frowned. "Gwendal told you that story?"
Wolfram nodded slowly, wondering why Little Big Brother looked mad. Maybe he was going to yell at Wolfram for being out of bed.
Conrad's frown suddenly became a soothing smile, and he closed his thick book and set it on his night table. "Would you like to keep me company for awhile?"
Wolfram hurried over and hopped on Conrad's bed, grinning and feeling very important that his brother wanted him to stay for awhile. Little Big Brother was smiling down at him as he tucked Wolfram in, and Wolfram barely noticed the lightning flashing in the window.
"Wolfram," Conrad began in a soft voice, "did you know that the story Gwendal told you is only one explanation of where the storm comes from?" After Wolfram shook his head, Conrad smiled again. "Let me tell you another story. Once, when he was young, a Mazoku met a beautiful little girl on the tallest cliff overlooking his village..."
Wolfram settled into the soft pillow and listened to the comforting sound of his brother's voice, and it wasn't long before he found that he couldn't hear the thunder anymore.
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It was years later, after shucking off his childish beliefs, that Wolfram's world was turned upside down for the second time in his life. He had been denied his rightful place, left behind for the first time rather than choosing to go when and where he pleased. Wolfram could only sit in forced silence as Stoffel orchestrated the war and his mother let it happen. He could only watch as his brother and Lord Weller rode off into the distance. He could only wait with the women and children, families of the soldiers, who his mother had invited to Covenant Castle to ease her own guilt over allowing Stoffel to send their fathers and husbands to die.
He would be seventy years old soon enough, and yet he was still treated as a child: too young to fight, too naive to understand, too powerless for his opinion to be heard. But still, somehow, he was considered old enough to accept the senseless stupidity that had been thrust into his lap.
But Wolfram knew his place, and so he watched and waited and was silent. He watched his mother hold those strangers' children to comfort them, and he waited for news from the front. He was silent as the members of the court spat obscenities about half-breeds and their traitorous ways, the hatred in their voices familiar and disgusting in his ears.
The night that the Battle of Rutenburg began, there was a storm. The children were frightened of the thunder and they worried that their fathers were frightened, too. Wolfram stood by as his mother gathered the soon-to-be fatherless children at her feet and told them that there was nothing to fear.
"Do not fret, little ones," Cheri said, her voice calm and soothing. "For the storm will protect your precious fathers." Every word that his mother said, every pretty lie out of her mouth, made Wolfram feel ill.
"But Lady Celi," one of the children asked, "how can the storm protect them?"
"Once," Celi said, "when the world was young, there was a soldier who had a beautiful little daughter with hair the color of rich cherry wood and cheeks so pink that they were the envy of every flower who looked upon them."
Wolfram blinked in confusion. He had heard two versions of this story in his life, one a truth and one a falsehood, but neither had involved a child.
Celi looked down at the group of children with a warm smile. "One day, the soldier was called to battle, and he wept for he knew that he would be leaving his precious child behind. That night, as he wrapped her in the blanket that he had woven for her and settled her into bed, he said his goodbyes to her. 'I will be leaving in the morning,' he said to his daughter, 'and I don't know when I will be able to tuck you into bed again.' The soldier's voice was full of grief, but he did his best to smile at his daughter so that she would know no sadness.
"The soldier's daughter smiled up at her father and asked him if he was scared of battle. The soldier thought for a moment; he had been in many battles, and had never known fear. But now he had his child to worry for and to come home to, and he found that for the very first time, he was afraid. 'Yes,' he said to his daughter, 'I am afraid. I am afraid of the cannonfire and I am afraid of the shouts of battle, but mostly I am afraid that I shall never be able to find my way back to you, and then I will never again be able to look into your beautiful eyes as we say goodnight.'"
Wolfram heard a little noise and looked over toward where the soldiers' wives were gathered, listening to the tale. Some of them were weeping, and all of them had eyes filled with grief - they were already in mourning.
"But his daughter smiled up at him," Celi went on, "and said, 'Father, you always take my nightmares away. When I was frightened of the forest animals harming me while I slept, you stood guard all night. When I was frightened of being eaten by monsters, you wove this special blanket for me so that nothing would harm me. When I was frightened of the dark, you told me how the moon and stars fill the night sky to watch over me and keep me safe. I will find some way to keep your fears away, too.'
"At dawn, the soldier left for battle. That night as his daughter laid down to bed, she thought of her father and how he had tucked her in night after night and made her feel safe. She looked out her window at the night sky, where the moon and stars were hanging there to watch over her, just as her father had promised. The little girl called to the night sky, begging for a way that she could ease her father's grief. Her eyes filled with tears as she told the night sky of her father's devotion, and she cried tears of happiness and sorrow and love. As her tears fell, the night sky was touched by her love for her father. The clouds gathered and the night sky began to weep with her. The little girl told the night sky of her father's fears, and the night sky made a storm. It called out with its thunder so that the soldier wouldn't have to hear the sounds of battle, and it lit the sky with its lightning so that the soldier would be able to find his way home.
"So when lightning splits the sky and the thunder rolls, there is no need to fear. It is simply the storm calling out to our soldiers and leading them home to us once again." Celi smiled down at the children, who were gazing up at her with hopeful, innocent expressions, relieved that their fathers would be returning to them. Standing against the wall at the edge of the room, Wolfram's scowl went unnoticed.
Wolfram stomped down the corridor to his room, vexed that his mother would tell such a blatant lie. Even though they were children, they deserved to hear the truth; lying to them would only make it harder to accept the harsh reality that their fathers would probably never come home again. Nothing could protect them now; not a seductive lie or a distorted fable or a bouquet of ugly blue flowers. The sooner those children realized that, the sooner they could become strong enough to accept it.
There was no greater dishonor than to be told an untruth because you are thought too weak to understand.
Wolfram prepared himself for bed, though he found himself somewhat irritated by the flashes of lightning and the loud thunder. He'd never get any decent sleep with that storm going on, and he had quite a busy day tomorrow, with all the duties he would be taking over while the soldiers were gone.
Wolfram settled into bed, and the storm roared outside his window. Even with the pillow over his head, he could still hear the cannonfire.
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When Yuuri came, everything changed for the third time. Wolfram found himself engaged to the Maou, and it was not long before he also found himself falling in love for the first time. He remembered what Gwendal had told him about love bringing pain, and he found that it was true; but he also learned that love brings indescribable joy. Even though Wolfram's fists would clench and his face would form a scowl when Yuuri was too friendly with a beautiful woman or when he stupidly risked his life over any little thing, when Yuuri smiled at him Wolfram could feel his heartbeat quicken and his stomach flutter just a bit. Sometimes, if no one was nearby, Wolfram even smiled back.
Wolfram found himself changing too, wanting different things than he had before. Before, he had spent his days constantly training in order to be a great soldier like his brothers, and now he found himself eager to spend as much time with Yuuri as possible. Even when the two of them argued, Wolfram would rather be together than apart. That was why he took to sleeping in Yuuri's bed; that, and to keep an eye on the wimp to make sure he wasn't engaging in anything untoward. Every night, Wolfram would come to Yuuri's bedchamber and slide onto the mattress next to him and fall asleep to the sound of Yuuri's rhythmic breathing.
It was on one such night that there happened to be a storm. Wolfram thought nothing of it at first; he was content to lie next to Yuuri and to fall asleep by his side. But Yuuri kept tossing and turning, and every time the lightning struck he would gasp and jump just a little bit, like a skittish animal frightened by the flashes of light.
After Yuuri had nearly leapt out of bed for the fifth time, Wolfram rolled over and scoffed at him. "You're not afraid of the storm are you, wimp? You, who can call the storm with your magic?"
"I'm not afraid!" Yuuri said defensively. "I was just surprised because the thunder snapped so loudly."
"Thunder's supposed to be loud," Wolfram said smugly. "Anyone who knows the origin of the storm will tell you that."
"What is the origin of the storm?" Yuuri asked.
Wolfram felt a tightness in his chest as Yuuri looked at him curiously. "Forget it. It's a children's story." He couldn't explain why, but he didn't want to tell Yuuri the story that Gwendal had told him so many years ago that explained how the first storm came to be.
"Come on, Wolfram, tell me." Yuuri's voice was soft, but full of his usual stubborn determination. "Please?"
Wolfram sighed; there was no use arguing now that Yuuri was being his obstinate self. If he wanted any hope of getting to sleep, he'd best tell Yuuri the tale and be done with it. Yuuri could be such a bother sometimes.
"Once," Wolfram began, "when he was young, a Mazoku met a beautiful little girl on the tallest cliff overlooking his village." Wolfram paused, not certain why he had started the story that way. That wasn't at all how he had intended to begin.
"Yeah?" Yuuri prompted. He sounded confused, probably wondering why Wolfram started a story that he didn't seem to want to finish.
Taking a deep breath, Wolfram continued. "The girl had flowing hair the color of young cherry wood and eyes that shimmered like the river when the sun shone down on it. For the rest of the afternoon, they ran through the fields of tall grass, playing tag and laughing in their carefree way. When the sun sank low in the sky, the children decided to play hide and seek. By the time the young Mazoku had finished his counting and had gone to search for his friend, the sun had set and dusk had settled over the fields. The young Mazoku searched in the tall grass, inside the hollow oak, and between the huge boulders by the riverside, but he could not find her.
"After searching until the fireflies began to blink, the young Mazoku went to the little girl's home and asked her mother if she had been called home for supper. Her mother led the boy to his friend's room, where he found her curled into a ball in the corner, sobbing. 'Why are you crying?' the young Mazoku asked her. 'Because I am afraid of the dark,' the little girl answered. The young Mazoku thought for a moment, and then rushed back out to the field with the tall grass. He gathered as many fireflies as he could find to bring them to the little girl.
"He made his way back to the little girl's room and released the fireflies, and the little girl was stunned by their beauty. 'These fireflies will light your way,' the young Mazoku promised, 'so there is no need to be afraid.' The little girl smiled, but soon her smile fell from her face. 'But the light lasts only a moment,' she said, 'and then it goes out, and I am afraid again.' The young Mazoku thought for a moment, and then he sat down next to her on the floor. 'Then I will sit with you and whisper to you, and you will know that I am always beside you and you will never have to be afraid.'
"Several years passed, and the young Mazoku grew into a man and his friend became a lovely young woman. They still ran together in the tall grass and they still laughed in their carefree way, and they were always together. One night, when the chill of winter was on the wind, there were no fireflies in the fields. As they sat together on the cliff overlooking the village, the young man asked his friend if she was still afraid of the dark. 'On nights when the fireflies are sleeping and when you are not beside me, I am still afraid,' the young woman said. 'Then marry me,' the young man replied, 'and I shall light the world for you and be by your side always.'
"One day soon after they wed, the young man became a soldier and it wasn't long before he was called to battle. He told his wife that he would be leaving her to travel to the front, and she wept for fear that she would never see him again. 'But who will whisper to me during the long nights when I am afraid?' his wife asked him. 'Who will bring home fireflies to dance for me?' The soldier held his dear wife in his arms and promised her that no matter what, he would find a way to light the night when she was afraid and that he would find a way to call out to her, no matter how far away he was.
"The young soldier perished in battle, and his wife was distraught. She grieved for three days and three nights, refusing food and the comfort of others, remaining huddled in her bed. On the third night, she heard a rumbling noise outside her window, just as her husband used to whisper in her ear when the night fell. She rushed to her window and threw open the shutters and saw that clouds had gathered in the sky. The lightning flashed, brightening the night sky, and when the light faded the thunder called out, and then she knew that the storm was only her precious husband keeping his promise. From that day forward, the woman was no longer afraid of the night because she knew that whenever she felt fear, that her husband was by her side.
"So when lightning splits the sky and the thunder rolls, there is no need to fear. It's only the storm reminding you that your loved ones are with you always, even if they cannot be by your side."
For several minutes, neither of them said anything. Wolfram was beginning to think that Yuuri had fallen asleep when he glanced over and saw Yuuri rolling over to lie on his side, his wide eyes reflecting the flashing lightning.
"That's not how the story goes," Yuuri said, just a bit of a question in his voice.
Wolfram let out a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding in. "How do you know that?"
"Because Gunter makes me read children's stories to practice using the language. In the original story, the soldier's true love betrays him and he falls on his sword." There was something in Yuuri's tone that made Wolfram wonder whether there was something else that he wanted to say.
"That's right," Wolfram replied. "I don't know why I told you this version."
Something brushed against his hand, and Wolfram's eyes widened as he felt Yuuri's hand slip into his, their fingers interlacing. For a second, Wolfram couldn't move or breathe for fear that if he did, Yuuri would pull away and everything would be cold again. He shut his eyes tightly and waited for one heartbeat, and then another, but Yuuri's hand did not leave his. Wolfram felt a tingling all over his body as Yuuri held his hand - it was almost impossible to believe that such an innocent touch could make him feel so alive...
"Wolfram?" Yuuri said softly. "I think I like this version better."
"I'll never make friends with a water magic user! They might make trouble for my fire." "Yes, but not the kind of trouble you think."
Wolfram smiled into the darkness and gave Yuuri's hand a little squeeze as the lightning flashed in the window. "I think I do, too."
The End
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Thanks to parsnipchan for her excellent Beta work.
Comments and concrit are welcome and appreciated!