Chapter 7: parting is such sweet sorrow

Yozak sighed—Jissa and Vanyel had been staring at each other for the better part of an hour, and he got the distinct impression that they were having an argument he wasn't privy to. It was an odd sight, with Vanyel curled up around Conrart like a mare with a foal, glaring up at Jissa who was standing slightly to his left.

He shifted the pile of saddle packs that rested on one of the chairs, as the small tower wobbled precariously. He'd walked in to find this little argument in full swing after giving his report on his last mission to Gwendal, and having a bit of a chat with Gisela. He patted the sealed little vial of the green goo, currently resting in his belt-purse, along with a small slip of paper written up by a different medic, detailing just what was in the concoction, its functions, and possible side effects.

After a few more tense moments, Jissa laid back her ears and pawed the ground impatiently with one silver hoof. Vanyel seemed to wilt at that, and Yozak almost jumped when Jissa brushed his mind. :You need to get everything off of my saddle, Chosen.: She said lightly. : Then you need to get your friend settled, so that you can put all of the packs on Vanyel. After that, we need to get both you and Conrart up into my saddle so that we can go home. :

Well, that at least explained what they were arguing about, he thought tersely as he went about stripping Jissa of any and all of her packs. He started when she went to her knees, lying down with an unnatural grace.

He sent her a questioning feeling at the sight.

: So you can get Conrart into my saddle without too much trouble. I'll need you to help steady him when I actually get back up and as we go down the stairs, but other than that I shouldn't have any trouble balancing him. We can balance a toddler if we have to, without the help of the saddle. :

He scooped Conrart up into his arms, mindful of his injuries, and carried him bridle-style over to Jissa. Getting him into the saddle was a bit of a chore – Conrart was almost completely limp, and he needed to be seated astride. The whole process was awkward, particularly since Conrart was wearing nothing more than a thin pair of gauze sleeping pants. He'd started whispering soft, almost unintelligible words of comfort to his friend, wondering at the small jolt of fear and discomfort he'd felt when he manhandled his friend into the saddle. Conrart had flinched and whimpered when Yozak grabbed the inside of his thigh in order to get the younger man's leg across to the other side of the saddle.

He filed that tidbit of information away for further pondering at a more appropriate time; for now he had other, more pressing matters to attend to. He took hold of Conrart's waist to hold him steady as Jissa climbed fluidly to her feet. Conrart whimpered when the fingers of one hand slipped below the fabric of his waist band. Yozak filed that away as well, but otherwise ignored his friend's odd reaction.

It was surprisingly easy to hold his friend steady in the saddle while Jissa climbed to her feet. He shifted Conrart forward slightly, allowing him to rest against the curve of Jissa's neck. The mare sent him a brief feeling of approval once he had the younger man settled to her liking. That accomplished, he turned and went about the relatively simple task of strapping all of their packs onto Vanyel. The colt was –for all intents and purposes – sulking, but he stood still and allowed the process with as much grace as he could muster.

Yozak felt bad for the youngster. It had to be humiliating, to be treated as a pack-mule, but Jissa was bigger than he currently was, and she had the benefit of a fully conscious Chosen to help keep Conrart in the saddle. He smiled, and patted the proudly arched white neck. "Thank you," he whispered. It was odd—had Vanyel been a horse, he would have called him a young stallion, but according to Jissa he was still a colt. Looking at Vanyel, he could see the slightly unfinished look that clung to all young things that had yet to grow into all they would one day be. It was a look he no longer bore, but one that Conrart still retained.

Vanyel flicked an ear in his general direction. "Thank you," he said again. "Thank you so much. If your bond to Conrart is anything like my bond to Jissa, then I think you will be very good for him . . . thank you."

With that he turned, walked up to Jissa, and after a moment's prompting swung up into the saddle with relative ease. He gathered his friend in his arms, mindful of the sword at his hip, and pulled the younger man up to the safety of his chest. Conrart whimpered and struggled against the contact. Without thinking, he reached for Conrart with his mind and sent his friend a feeling of comfort and protectiveness. He honestly didn't know how he did it; it was simply instinct, just like the many times he'd somehow found Conrart in his mind right when he needed him.

It worked—Conrart stopped fighting him, and in fact he cuddled up against him, completely at ease in his arms. Conrart had always been at ease with him, even when they were young. It was completely mutual, and even now, when they were adults (nearly in Conrart's case) he still occasionally woke up next to his friend, although it was far more common for him to greet the day with Conrart curled up in his arms. Yet their relationship was completely platonic.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't wish it was more, but he loved his friend, and was content with whatever Conrart could give him.

He shifted Conrart in his arms; dropped his left arm and encircled the smaller man's slim hips, to help stabilize him. He reached around his friend with his right arm, and grabbed hold of the saddle horn. "Alright, I've got him." he told Jissa calmly, though his grip on Conrart's hips tightened as the mare started forward, Vanyel keeping pace with them easily.

They got only as far as the ruined door to the hallway before they were stopped by The Great Sage.

"I have spoken with Shinou; more time has elapsed on your world then has passed here. Unfortunately, you've missed your transport home. We have arranged to send you back to Valdemar from the temple of The Great One. If you will wait a moment after we get back out to the courtyard, we will escort you there."

Yozak felt a brief moment of gratitude for his friend's foresight; Conrart had long ago ensured that both of their travel bags were waterproof.

: I was under the impression that this Shinou was your god. : Jissa inquired mildly.

: He is, but he does speak to a few of us—that's where his Eminence has an advantage over the rest of us. He actually knew the Great One, who was our first king. He was there when the war against the Originators was fought. And he was there when the Boxes were sealed and the Keys created. He witnessed the birth of our very nations. He regularly speaks with The Great One. Normally, the only ones who can hear the Great One's voice are the oracles. :

: I see, : she said thoughtfully, : Tell his eminence that we will be glad of the escort. :

He relayed Jissa's message and they continued on down the hall.

~~~***~~~

Yozak dismounted carefully at the sight of Daikichi cantering through the gates, his tail flagged. He caught the gelding's reigns, and walked him quietly in small, slow circles to cool him down. The horse stomped one hoof restlessly as he halted. He made swift work of the packs that hung from the saddle, tossing them to Gwendal, so that the other man could deal with the evidence his last mission had generated. Without thinking he hugged his horse—he was going to miss the feisty steed.

But he no longer had any use for a riding mount, or even a horse.

He glanced around looking for a stable hand to give his furry friend off to when his eyes landed on Greta. At thirteen, it really was time she had a horse of her own, yet she still rode a pony. This was Wolfram's doing, ironically, not Yuri's. The prince was worried for his daughter's safety should she have a horse of her own. Greta's Sparkle was an old creature who had to be forced into anything more pressing then a sedate walk. Hell, the little thing was even getting a bit of a sway back.

Wolfram was worried that his adventurous young daughter would escape the watchful gaze of her guards if she rode anything bigger than the pony. He was right; she likely would. But Yosak also knew something Wolfram didn't. Conrart had seen the Princess's adventurous nature years ago and taken steps to ensure her safety. Yuri had been thrilled with the idea of his little girl learning the art of the sword, and while Yuri really was quite hopeless with a blade – Greta was almost as proficient as Wolfram! The captain of the king's guard had also taken to serving as Greta's guard for her early morning ride.

Yozak had found them together outside the city walls just three weeks ago. Conrart was sitting calmly on a large rock, sharpening the point of one of the arrows from the quiver at his back with a practiced ease, while keeping a close eye on Greta, who was enjoying an elicit gallop on Conrart's warhorse. Valiant had seemed as docile as a week old kitten when Greta rode him, but Yozak wasn't fooled – he'd seen the big gelding bash in a man's head at Conrart's command.

He'd teased his friend about how much trouble he'd be in should anyone find out about this. Conrart's retort had been simple. Yuri was well aware of his activities, and the King at least, approved of his daughter's spirit. Yuri also agreed with Conrart that Greta would be safe on a horse because of that adventurous nature.

He took all of that into consideration and in less than the time it took most men to lace up their boots he'd made his decision.

"Greta," he called. "Can I ask a favor of you, princess?"

Greta handed her pony's reigns over to Gwendal, before calmly threading her way past the horses until she stood beside Yozak. He turned his head and glanced down at the young brunette. Greta had grown a lot over the past five years but she still barely reached his chest. He didn't think she'd ever grow to be as tall as her grandmother, or the lady Annisina. She was far smaller in build then either of them. Then she looked up at him, her eyes glittering with a suppressed mirth he'd once associated with her uncle. He swallowed, and glanced over at his friend – Conrart sat passed out in the saddle, his chest pressing against Jissa's proudly arched neck.

Strange, he already made his decision, yet the doing was harder than he expected.

"I, I have Jissa now and as such I no longer have need of a warhorse, or even a pleasure mount." He began, keeping his voice steady by sheer force of will. "You're thirteen now princess, and old enough for a horse. I know Conrart taught you how to ride Valiant and all of the responsibilities and commands that go with it." At her nod he continued. "Conrart gave me Daikichi; he may LOOK like a placid lady's mount, but he's trained Just like Valiant. Do you understand, princess?"

Again he waited for her to nod before continuing. "He's a good horse, and he's actually quite gentle, Princess. You have nothing to fear from him, and he's quite earnest; he'll break his heart or his leg if you ask it of him. Treat him with respect, and I guarantee you'll be safer on his back then you ever would be on that pony of yours. But unfortunately, I can't take him with me, Princess. Will you do me the great honor of seeing to it that he has a proper home? Not as a warhorse, but as a Lady's mount, as his breeding demands?"

Greta could only nod; her hazel eyes wide, and shining with joy. He reached out and took her slim hand in his, and calmly presented the appendage to Daikichi, remembering the day Conrart had done the same to him. The gelding sniffed at her palm for a moment, before bumping her hand with his velvety soft muzzle.

Yozak smiled as he handed her his reins. He chuckled as the girl flung herself at the man, babbling happily, and assuring him Daikichi would be well cared for. Calmly, he reassured his former mount that he'd done well, and promised him a better life in the tender hands of this little girl who was his king's adopted daughter. He also asked the horse if he would please keep the girl safe. Daikichi, knowing Greta's importance to both of the men he'd allowed into his saddle, readily agreed, and Yozak knew in that moment the princess had just had her guard rendered obsolete! That horse would do everything in his power to keep her safe… even at the cost of his own life!

He'd just never realized Wolfram would be the first to test Daikichi's flashing, sharp edged hooves.

~~~***~~~

Wolfram had never been so angry!

How dare that foolish, bastard half-breed! How dare he go so blatantly against his wishes! And Conrart was just as bad! How dare he allow his daughter to ride a Warhorse?! What the hell was he thinking? Teaching HIS LITTLE GIRL to ride a Warhorse! What the Hell was Yozak thinking?! How dare he endanger his little girl by giving her a horse?! She was too young for a horse! She was only thirteen! Hardly more than a baby!

He reacted without thinking, calling fire to his hands and flinging it at the red haired fool of a half-breed that called itself Lord Weller's closest friend. Unfortunately, the blonde was oblivious to the somewhat important fact that his aim was rarely true when he was this angry, and that Greta was standing only a few feet from Yozak.

Once the Fireball had left his hand it was out of his control.

He could only watch in horror as the massive ball of fire barreled towards his victim –

~~~***~~~

Yozak, the Maoh, and Daikichi reacted simultaneously. Water-dragons roared into existence – shot from the outstretched hands of the Demon King, surging forward to protect their master's beloved daughter, even as Yozak flung himself at Greta, tackling the startled girl, and rolling them both out of the path of the fireball! He kept himself firmly between her and Wolfram's creation.

The red head acted as a living shield between her and the brunt of the fireball's fury. He gritted his teeth at the heat as the damned thing soared past over their heads, before colliding with the stable wall.

He had no time to spare a thought for the horse!

Until Daikichi's enraged squeal rent the air, and Wolfram screamed in alarm.

~~~***~~~

Yozak sighed as he pulled himself up into Jissa's saddle; it had taken the better part of an hour to calm down the entire stable yard full of terrified horses. It didn't help that Daikichi had not stopped his attempt on the prince's hide until Vanyel intervened. Yuri had gotten the fire extinguished with some well placed rain, before rounding on his soon to be dead or ex-fiancée. The king very nearly become more of a threat then the enraged Warhorse before the combined efforts of Gwendal and Murata got him to release the completely shaken prince from the grips of his water-dragons.

For her part, a still very badly shaken Princess Greta sat slumped in her new horse's saddle. Daikichi's ears were laid back and he wasn't taking his eyes off the threat to his rider.

It was turning out to be a very long day indeed!

~~~***~~~

The party rode into the temple courtyard and everyone, barring Yozak and Conrart, dismounted calmly, handing their mount's reins over to the temple guards. Murata led them past a couple of very startled Shrine-maidens, and into the Tomb of The Great One. Ulrike greeted them with the same formality she would have given any visiting dignitary, though she seemed mildly surprised by the Companions.

"It will take me a few more hours to prepare for your departure." Ulrike said quietly. "My Lords, My ladies, please make yourselves comfortable. If you'll pardon me, my lords, Princess, I must speak with Yozak." She paused briefly, before adding, "Alone."

Yozak sat quietly atop Jissa's back watching as the other's filed out. When there was no one left but Jissa, Vanyel, Yozak, and the silent fevered young man in his arms, she spoke again.

"Your life as you knew it ends here. You were not born for this world; as such, your life truly starts today. When the time comes that you have no choice but your heart's desire, accept the blessing the Great One has given you. Not many get this chance, so embrace it."

Yozak couldn't help his confusion at her words.

No choice but his heart's desire? What did that mean? His heart's desire was something he could never claim. He shook his head and dismissed the very idea as ridiculous; he was in love with a noble, and he could never have anything more than a shadow, a mockery, of his desire . . . assuming Conrart was even interested. He shifted in his saddle, making a mental note to talk with Jissa about interpreting Ulrike's advice at a later date, when he wasn't running on little sleep and completely frazzled.

He didn't even notice that he'd pulled Conrart closer.

"And Yozak," Ulrike said calmly, drawing his attention back to her even as they turned to leave the room. "Remember that the past has no bearing on the future when handled with love and patience."

Jissa stood quietly in the doorway, and Yozak found himself truly at a loss for words. What did that have to do with anything? He closed his eyes and resisted the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you." He replied.

: Well that was creepy. : Jissa said snidely as they left the room.

Yozak snorted: That was Lady Ulrike, the Oracle, and yes, she can be a bit creepy. : He answered, trying desperately not to laugh.

~~~***~~~

Three hours later, they reconvened in the Tomb of the Great One, with Yozak taking care not to jostle his heavily sedated friend. It was odd—he was no longer the same man he'd been just the other day. That man was content to just be Yozak, to be alone. He'd been happy with the little life had given him, and he still was to some extent, but now Jissa had wandered into his life and turned it upside-down. He was only mildly alarmed by the realization that he didn't mind . . . not really.

When he'd first been Chosen, he'd expected to have to fight with Gwendal to get the man to release him from his post, and expected to have to leave Conrart behind altogether. Now he found Conrart would be going with him to this new world. That was something that made him both every glad and yet it also saddened him greatly.

He didn't have any family to worry about. Conrart was his only family. For him, being Chosen was a great opportunity, and one he was more than willing to take, particularly since Conrart would be coming with him. Yet his friend would be leaving behind almost everything he knew: his family, his home, and the godson he had sworn to protect. Still, he was glad he would have his friend with him in this. Yet he was saddened by the knowledge of everything his friend was losing.

"Take care of yourself, Yozak." Gwendal said calmly, but the slight waver of his voice betrayed him as he added "and take care of Conrart."

Yozak inclined his head briefly, only mildly amused by Gwendal's request. He'd always taken care of his friend, and always would.

"Excuse me," Ulrike interjected before he could reply, "but it is time."

Yozak nodded, and shifted Conrart closer, so that the smaller man rested against his chest. Something soft brushed his arm and he glanced over at Gwendal, to find the man attempting to hand him his greatcoat.

"Sir?" he inquired in mild surprise.

Gwendal's normally hard blue eyes were mild as he looked at Yozak. "You will be traveling through water," he replied simply. "Conrart already has a fever, and Gisela tells me the drug she gave him is strong, and has the unfortunate side affect of depressing the immune system. Conrart has enough on his plate; he doesn't need a cold as well."

"Thank you, Lord Von Voltaire," Yozak replied; taking the coat from the man's hand, he draped it across his friend's chest, covering his shoulders as well.

Gwendal took a step back away from Jissa's side, "There is a letter in the breast pocket; make sure Conrart receives it."

"Yes, sir," Yozak replied, mostly out of long habit.

He shifted his weight in the saddle as Jissa moved. She ambled forward at an easy walk, with Vanyel at her side, until all four of her legs were immersed in water up to her fetlocks. Water sprang up around them, engulfing them in a blanket of lukewarm water. He was amazed to discover he didn't seem to need to breathe. The water around them began to swirl, and he felt curiously light. White light danced before his eyes and he briefly wondered if this was what Yuri and Murata saw and felt every time they went back to earth.

Abruptly he was cold, and his lungs burned.

~~~***~~~

A.N.

Werewolf: This fic has been edited by the Grammar Nazi.

Pirate: Yes! All grammar mistakes must be rounded up and persecuted! None shall pass . . . my awesome spelling skills! Mehehehehehehehe.

Werecat: Blink. Blink. Blink… O-kay now then. Where shall we build the Grammar concentration camp? I don't want it in my backyard. Oh and remember although the Pirate may be a Grammar Nazi, any and all twisted and evil things come from yours truly.

Werewolf: Honestly I don't care where it is as long as it's not in my forest… I have to run there you know! Awoooo! 'sides bad grammar smells funny…. O.o Feline, what's with the Meow Mix song? Have we stepped into a bad commercial? And we all know you have a twisted mind… must be a Cat thing.

Werecat: Meow, Meow… Mow. -.- I don't like you very much. *Hisses and swipes at stupid dog.*

Pirate: ¡Oy que la penada! ¡Mira estos animales! And how the fuck do you know what bad grammar smells like?

Werecat: I am not an empanada!

Werewolf: U no I don't speaky Spanish!

Pirate: -_- You did that on purpose just to piss me off, didn't you?

Werewolf: Admit nothing, deny everything, and make counter accusations!

Werecat: And when all else fails…kill all witnesses!

Pirate: Remind me why I beta read for this weirdo again? I swear I don't get paid enough to deal with this crap. . . and why is the rum always gone?!

WereCat: You don't get paid at all!

Wherewolf: Pssst… Feline… did you hide the rum properly this time? We don't want her finding again. Just drink the gin, Captain.

Pirate: *Sigh* I knew I should have gotten wasted the last time we were in port.

Werecat: Of course I did it's in the…*glares at pirate* Oh no, you're not gonna get me to tell you where it is that easy.

Pirate: Until next time, folks! In the meanwhile, I have a feline that needs to walk the plank!

Werecat: At least I still have nine lives . . . and I can swim.

Werewolf: Are we in eel infested waters by any chance?

Werecat: They're shark infested waters! Read the bloody book!

Werewolf: Aw, but eels are more fun . . . and they taste better too.

Pirate: Can we sell them on Ebay?

P.S.

Werewolf: Even this Author's Note has been edited by the Grammar Nazi… who we swear has OCD.

Pirate: It's CDO, Goddamnit! How many times do I have to tell you?! Get it right!

Werecat: Oh and if this A.N. was long… well we're making up for the 6 chapters that didn't have any.