Two: Purple
Berias would come to get him later on – Saralegui was sure of it. The swordsman was extremely protective of his charge. But if Yuuri lived up to his promise… You said you'd be there for me. Let's see, then. Will you risk your neck and those of your beloved retainers for my sake?
The door opened, and Gerald walked in, holding a sheet of paper. "You will sign this letter if you know what's good for you," he said, his tone simultaneously threatening and mocking.
Saralegui didn't even bother to look at it. "It says that I wish to hand over the crown to you, doesn't it?"
"Well done, Your Majesty. You are very sharp." Were his words not so full of sarcasm, the man might have been addressing a small child.
If it weren't for the plan, I would blast that smirk off his face. "I suppose you are planning to announce that I have abdicated due to illness, and then quietly drop any further news of me after the deed is done," continued the king, his voice as bland as milk.
Gerald started. Clearly it was exactly what he'd planned to do. Recovering, he said quickly, "At any rate, you don't possess the ability to rule over Shou Shimaron in the proper way."
The blonde stared straight ahead, still refusing to acknowledge his former general's presence in the room. Oh, so what is the proper way? Secede to Dai Shimaron? Fool. As if I would allow such a thing.
It seemed that Gerald wasn't finished. "A mere boy such as yourself who lacks both dignity and skill, just like your late father, is –"
Saralegui's eyes narrowed. My father, lacking dignity and skill? I might have let you go… but for this, you will pay, you spineless, mindless, toadying sycophant.
"It is I…" His glare efficiently shut the man up, but the young king wasn't finished with him yet. "…and only I…" Deliberately, he removed his purple spectacles, setting them down on the table in front of him. "… who is Shou Shimaron's king."
The power within him responded eagerly to his call, swelling up behind his eyeballs, where it prickled hotly and demanded release. Used to the sensation, he slowly opened them, allowing it to shine in its unearthly blue glow. "I will not give up my throne to anyone else."
Gerald tensed; even he could sense that something was happening. Air did not normally hum with such taut anticipation. Air did not normally shiver as though a dissonant chord had been struck when no sound was made. Then again, air was also rarely treated in this way.
He turned his face to the man again. Gerald was obviously struck dumb by the strange goings-on and the even stranger blue of his normally gold eyes. Saralegui reveled in the sense of absolute power that spread throughout his entire being as Gerald's pupils widened, then shrank dramatically. No will to speak of, thought the blonde disdainfully, albeit not allowing his opinions to slip through to the mesmerized general.
Judging that the man was sufficiently infused with his houryoku, the young king retrieved his power, returning it to the place of its origin deep within him. "Now, Gerald," he said softly, "you'll listen to me, won't you?"
The former general nodded, dazed. Mentally grabbing a trailing strand of houryoku, Saralegui wrapped it around the relevant thought-commands and directed it down the newly formed connection between Gerald and himself. Get out of here. Do not attempt to make me sign the crown to you again. You will regain your consciousness ten feet from these doors, but do not return unless I command it.
"You may leave now," he finished, dismissing him aloud for the benefit of any eavesdroppers.
The man obeyed immediately, walking stiffly out of the room and closing the doors behind him. When Saralegui felt the distance to be approximately ten feet, he intoned, "It is done," the standard phrase to free people (or a particular person) of his will.
He grinned inwardly at the thought of the man's expression on realizing that the paper was still unsigned. Gerald might have been useful in the future, but maintaining such powerful connections took rather a lot of energy, and the blonde didn't think the toady worth such effort.
So, Yuuri, I'm still waiting. My patience does not last long…
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Saralegui could feel Berias' presence questing for him. He smiled and closed his eyes, welcoming his trusted guard's gold-colored presence in his mind. Hello, Berias. Are you sure it's a good idea to use up your houryoku like this? If I needed to talk to you, I would have been able to do so myself. You know it is less taxing on me than on you
The Berias-sense dimmed, almost as if it were guilty. Sorry, Your Majesty, but I am worried for you. The Maou has not appeared yet, and I am sure Gerald has already sent for Dai Shimaron. It would not be to your advantage if –
Oh, Gerald will pose no threat to us, the blonde replied airily. If anything happens, I can fix him very quickly. As for Yuuri… Well, I suppose you can start breaking out of wherever they've put you now. If the kind and compassionate Maou comes, all the better. If he doesn't… Saralegui frowned slightly. No, he will. He is too headstrong for his advisors to control. It is all as I have planned.
Pardon me for saying so, Your Majesty, but you are equally headstrong. Berias seemed resigned. I will begin my fight when Gerald comes in to question me. He has yet to do so, and I expect him soon. I will take my leave now. The Berias-sense faded swiftly, and Saralegui opened his eyes to his empty room again.
The young king leaned back in his high-backed chair. Silly of Berias, really. He knows these conversations will cost him. Then again, it was just like Berias to forget about conserving his energy when anxious about him.
Such conversations were always consuming, but at a close range like now when they were in the same palace and not perhaps at opposite borders of Shou Shimaron, they were only mildly taxing. It was their secret means of communication – using their houryoku.
Saralegui knew that he was a Shinzoku. So was Berias. Neither of them required houseki to perform houjutsu. They themselves were living houseki – or, more accurately, their houryoku was a part of their physical makeup, not an external, additional appendage. The most highly skilled houjutsu users in the kingdom refused to fight this extraordinarily powerful king at all costs, which was one of the few reasons why Shou Shimaron had not been torn by civil war in the two years since he had ascended the throne.
Of all the houjutsu users – the priests, the warriors, the healers, and so on – few, if any, knew about the existence of the Shinzoku. They were humans, after all, and none were alive that could recall of a time before the when humans known as gods lived in their closed community of Seisakoku. In fact, Seisakoku itself was a name only found in the dustiest tomes in the palace's library – two thousand years was a long time to be shut off from the world, and located far away from the continents where Dai Shimaron and Shin Makoku fought tooth and nail over every scrap of land, it was all too easy to forget.
Perhaps the world had forgotten Seisakoku, but Seisakoku did not simply fade out of existence – it was still there, still alive, still thriving. Berias was a prime example. An excellent Shinzoku warrior and houjutsu swordsman, he had for some reason crossed the leagues between Seisakoku and Shou Shimaron, all for the sole purpose of kneeling before a five-year-old blonde boy and pledging his life in service to him… to anyone else, it would be pure madness. To Berias, it was simply carrying out his duty.
People thought him out of his mind, to accept an unknown like Berias as his personal bodyguard. But the man's skills, seriousness, sincerity and obedience made a strong impression on Saralegui. None of the other men assigned to guard him had ever treated him as anything apart from a bratty little prince who needed guarding in case he fell into the fishpond.
The year the prince turned ten, he had demanded to be told the reason why Berias served him. Not Shou Shimaron, not King Gilbert, nobody but him, Saralegui and Saralegui alone. And Berias had finally told him… albeit the young prince could tell that there was more that his guard and constant shadow for the past five years had left unspoken. It was still more than he'd ever thought to know.
According to Berias, the ruler of Seisakoku had ordered him to find and protect a prince called Saralegui who was the son of King Gilbert of Shou Shimaron and the Shinzoku princess, Alazon.
According to Berias, that is. Not that the young king didn't trust his personal guard of more than a decade, but the story was quite farfetched. His mother may have been Shinzoku, but not a princess. What princess would be allowed away from her own country, particularly when it was closed to the outside world? It was rather too perfect, too good to be true. More likely, the woman had been banished from Seisakoku for some sort of crime and Berias was her relative come to take care of the child she had left behind.
He had never asked Berias about his reasons again, though.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Footsteps sounded outside his door, and someone tested the handle. Saralegui looked up, then smirked triumphantly. You did come in the end. I knew you would, eventually. Nice to see you keep your word.
The door swung open, and as expected, the Maou's head poked into the room. The rest of him quickly followed. "Sara!"
"Yuuri!" The blonde put on an delighted expression, standing and walking swiftly towards the other king. "You really came!"
Yuuri smiled brightly, obviously happy that Sara was so pleased. "I promised that we'd always be together, remember?"
"Yuuri!" repeated Saralegui, matching the soukoku's joy smile for smile and taking the Maou's hands in his own. I could definitely find work in any of those groups of travelling actors. Not that I'd ever need to, but that's not the point.
"This is no time for that!" scolded the blonde Mazoku who had accompanied Yuuri – the Maou's fiancée, Wolfram, if Saralegui remembered correctly.
"Hurry it up, Your Majesty!" added the other, orange-haired man. Both of them raced away, probably to fend off the soldiers coming their way.
"They're right! Let's run for it!" Yuuri quickly made his way after his retainers, with the other king at his heels.
Minutes later, they skidded to a halt in the sheltered walkway around the inner courtyard. Berias and Conrad faced each other not ten feet away from them, with their swords drawn and killing intent in their eyes.
Yuuri's eyes widened in dismay. "Stop, Conrad!"
Neither man moved. Saralegui's brows crinkled slightly. "That's enough, Berias," he commanded.
At this, Berias stood straight, lowering his swords. "Your Majesty." Conrad also relaxed, turning to face them with a tiny smile.
"Honestly," commented Yozak, starting towards his comrade.
Both Conrad and Berias sheathed their swords, returning to their respective masters. Berias knelt in front of his king. "Are you unhurt?"
Saralegui smiled reassuringly. "Yes."
"Thank goodness!" said Yuuri in heartfelt relief. "You two looked ready to kill each other."
"We were," admitted Conrad.
The Maou looked startled. Naïve as usual, thought the blonde, his expression carefully neutral.
Conrad was still speaking. "That's what it means to protect someone important to us." He tensed, turning towards the door. The other warriors followed suit.
Seconds later, uniformed men-at-arms appeared at the doors on either side. "There they are! Surround them!"
From one door, Gerald walked out, surrounded by his men. He smirked upon seeing them. "Well, if it isn't the Maou," he mocked. "I admit I am surprised to see you back here." As he spoke, the men around him advanced on the little group.
Yuuri laughed nervously. "They've found us."
The next moment, Berias was speeding down the corridor, unsheathing his swords as he went. The men-at-arms fell like ninepins before his swift attack. Within seconds, one of his swords was pressed warningly against the side of Gerald's throat. "Whoever dares to threaten King Saralegui is my enemy."
"Sir Berias!" exclaimed the remaining men-at-arms in shock.
Saralegui watched in satisfaction. Beside him, Yuuri commented, "Wow… Now that's impressive…"
Just then, an unintelligible roar sounded from without the castle. Gerald shifted uncomfortably. "What's that noise?"
Moments later, innumerable men on horseback and wearing Shou Shimaron's uniform entered the courtyard at a trot. Amongst them, Saralegui recognized the other soukoku and the long-haired man, both of whom were part of Yuuri's entourage. In front of them all was an older, bearded man who also looked familiar. Good. Lord Montal got my message in time. I knew he'd come at once.
"King Saralegui! Are you all right?" The man, who had always been somewhat like an uncle to the young king, shot him a concerned look before turning on the traitorous general. "Gerald, you lowlife fiend! You have nowhere else to run! The rest of you as well, give yourselves in!"
Berias released his captive, allowing him to slump to the ground, as Gerald's men dropped their weapons in surrender. Lord Montal's men raised a cheer, which echoed throughout the castle.
"From the looks of this crowd, I'd say that the King of Shou Shimaron is surprisingly popular," remarked someone behind him.
"Seems that way," agreed someone else.
As it was, the said king felt similarly awed too. I underestimated Lord Montal. He raised this many men, at such short notice… Then again, there are certain implications as well. I may have to review the number of soldiers the border lords are allowed to have in their service.
A hand brushed gently against his arm, and he glanced around to see Yuuri smiling at him. "Look around you, Sara. They all came to protect you! You aren't alone at all, Sara!"
Not alone… Saralegui realized that his mouth was hanging open in a very inelegant manner and quickly closed it, masking his shock with his usual smile. I wish.
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(Flashback)
A little boy, barely five years of age, crouched on his haunches near a bed of vibrant purple flowers. He watched disconsolately as a pair of pale pink butterflies fluttered onto the flowers, landing on one for a second or so, then taking off again.
He had just come from an audience with his father. At that audience, the king had formally announced that his mother was not going to return to the palace any more.
His mother… He could easily recall her touch, her scent, her clothes, but for some reason, her face always eluded his memory. He hadn't seen her for a long time already; the servants whispered that she had died, had eloped, had been kidnapped, but this was the first time his father had said anything on the matter to him.
Now that it was official, he felt so… abandoned. That last ray of hope, that his mother would eventually come back to him, had just been cruelly extinguished by his father's stern expression and solemn words: Your mother will not return to us. You will not see her again, Saralegui.
Measured footsteps sounded, announcing the arrival of another person to the courtyard. He did not turn; whoever it was probably did not concern him. The courtiers and servants generally ignored him as they went about their business.
Suddenly, the butterflies took to the air, fluttering agitatedly. Only then did he realize that the person who had been making those footsteps was now standing two feet away from him. He looked up, surprised and wary – strangers didn't often come so close to him unless they wanted something from him.
The first thing he noticed was the stranger's boots, since they were at his eye level. They were brown and well worn, coated with dust from hard riding. This person had travelled a significant distance before coming here.
Next, he saw the man's black riding gloves and dark clothes. Everything about this person, even his hair and eyes, were either black or dark-colored. He'd never seen anyone quite so dark before. The only part of the man that did not conform to this rule was his skin, which appeared to be pale but was currently in shadow so he couldn't quite tell.
What really drew his eyes, though, were the twin swords the man bore. They seemed shorter than the swords he'd seen on the courtiers, and their handles showed signs of long use. He'd never seen anyone wearing two swords before, and concluded that this person must have twice the skill of those who used only one – he could use one in each hand, simultaneously.
Then the man addressed him. "Prince Saralegui."
The boy started; he'd thought this person might have intended to ask for directions, not speak to him. And how did he know his name…?
Kneeling before him, the man continued, "My name is Berias." He bowed his head. "I swear my eternal allegiance to you."
(End Flashback)
"Berias." Saralegui's voice was quiet.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"You said, when I ascended the throne, that you'd follow me anywhere. No matter what path I choose." The young king's voice betrayed no emotion at all. "I will now ask something of you, something you will likely not approve of. My plans require me to place my life on the line. Can I trust that you will do exactly as I say?"
Berias' forehead creased as his eyebrows drew together. "I will follow you and support you in every way I can; I will obey your commands to the letter."
"Good. When the time comes, I shall call upon you." Saralegui smiled slightly. "You may need to kill me – or rather, appear to kill me. The Maou must believe that I would protect him with my life."
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A/N: OMG. I DID IT. I ACTUALLY GOT ANOTHER CHAPTER DONE IN TIME FOR THE NEW YEAR.
Well, perhaps not quite in time… but what's a few hours between friends? XD At least we start 2009 with a bang!
As you can see, the AU part starts from here. The whole thing about Saralegui's past is a figment of my imagination. The rest of this fic will be based loosely on the anime, but there will be significant amendments later on. For now, it still sticks quite closely to the anime… this was episode 97 ^^
Sorry there was so little SaraYuu here as compared to the first chapter. This was rather more like BeriasXSara instead… but rest assured that this fic is still SaraYuu; it's just more Saracentric than Yuucentric. =)
Please review! Reviews make me inspired and I'll update faster!