Disclaimer-Uh...yeah. Not mine.
So I have finally gotten around to typing up this freakin chapter. I have made it extra long as a way to apologize for making you guys wait and as a birthday present to damons-hot-as-hell. Happy birthday damons-hot-as-hell! Erm...late birthday, lol. Again sorry it took so long. A lot happened during the semester and at home. And I mean a lot! So let us once again wish her a happy birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY) and hope you enjoy this chapter!
Notes: A lot happens in this chapter and in my haste to get it out I haven't had the the chance to look it over and edit it. Plus I had various segments written at different times so the flow is...well...I should say it really has no flow. I apologize. If anyone is confused just ask and I'll explain.
A big thanks for my reviewers! You guys helped motivate me to get the next chapter out!
And once again, happy birthday damons-hot-as-hell! :D
Chapter 10. I'm Sorry
Time ticked by slowly. Everything that was once visible dissipated. Wolfram was left alone with Yuuri, holding the poor boy-turned king in hopes that maybe he could get through. The ever loving, ever king and thoughtful Maoh was reduced to a sorrow stricken boy grasping onto any form of sanity left. Yuuri who once used to charge right into the mission without any regard to the dangers, only fighting for the sake of justice, could no longer trust himself and Wolfram knew all too well how it felt to have your body go against its command without your knowledge. The pain, the fear was apparent as it was infectious and all Wolfram could do was listen to the half-madden mumbles of the boy who he broke long ago.
"I'm sorry, Yuuri." Wolfram whispered, brushing back the dark bangs from his king's forehead.
The fault fell solely on him. The deaths, the war, the murders that took place were all done by his hand. Wolfram pulled Yuuri tighter, resting his head in the crook of Yuuri's neck and sighed a shuddered sigh. "I'm sorry."
A million and one thoughts all raced through his mind. Each ranging from their sympathy to a question. Yet only one thought outshined them all and the one was: how can I fix what I so badly broke?
Wolfram was here. Wolfram was with him. Wolfram was alive. Wolfram had never left.
His thoughts were swirling. So many different thoughts-some not of his own-all assaulted him. Wolfram this, Wolfram that, the war, the humans, Greta all sputtered out rapidly leaving Yuuri even more of a wreck than usual. It was so hard to try and fight an enemy that wasn't even an enemy. It was a creature spawned from him, by him, which now had taken its infectious mind and tainted him. Yuuri was beyond afraid of himself. His thoughts that were not his thoughts all formed within his mind. Two creatures inhabited the same body and the two had very separate stances on peace.
"I'm sorry, Yuuri." Wolfram had quietly said to him, brushing back his overgrown locks on his forehead. Sorry? Why would Wolfram be sorry?
Yuuri had wanted to ask why the blonde had said that, but his mind was soon preoccupied with a different, horrifying train of thought presented by his other self.
Wolfram was here. Wolfram was safe. Wolfram would never leave.
He would kill if Wolfram ever left again...
Morning came too swiftly for anyone to have felt any form of comfort. Murata was the first to rise as he was the first to leave. He and Wolfram had a promise-one that he was going to ensure the blonde Mazoku keep. Deep within the Maoh's office were the two. Yuuri grasping onto his precious Wolfram and Wolfram asleep with his arms around the monarch, both tucked away in the darkest corner of the room.
Murata took only one step into the chamber when a pair of golden serpent eyes pinned him with a frightening glare.
How scary... The Sage thought to himself. "Now, now great Maoh. I only need to borrow Lord Bielefeld for a bit. I promise to return him." The Maoh only held on tighter, pulling the sleeping body closer to his own. It was like watching an animal with the way Yuuri practically hid Wolfram from Murata's line of sight. "Lord Bielefeld, it's time to wake up!" He tried; watching through careful eyes as the blonde slowly awoke from his quiet slumber. Wolfram's eyes opened, revealing the gemmed emeralds within that looked up blearily before registering the Sage's presence. Wolfram was quick to stand, not noticing Yuuri's dark scowl. "I see Shibuya is still the same." Though he is slightly better. He thought, keeping that bit of information to himself. "You have a promise to keep."
A stubborn glare worked its way onto the fiery Mazoku's eyes. It was the same Wolfram Murata had known, the same "Lord Brat" that Gunter constantly antagonized; the same soldier his brothers had come to depend on. 'It seems there is still some hope for us all.' Murata turned, exiting the hidden chamber knowing well that Wolfram would never go back on his word. The youth was far too prideful for that.
The two left, never looking back.
Never catching those cold eyes that watched their disappearing backs.
It was quiet. The morning, though beautiful, was just another form of hell as it was another reminder that another day had passed and Yuuri was no closer to sanity then the previous one-that more men had lost their life against the raids that now plagued the glorious grounds of Shin Makoku.
The sun blinded Wolfram and as the torturous march down the halls came, no one greeted him. All eyes were on his small back and the blonde already knew what they were thinking. He was a traitor; he was back even though he left their king in this pitiful state. What right did have to return? All thoughts and questions true. Wolfram had no right to return. According to their laws he was a married man who gave up his home in favor of marriage. According to the law, he had nothing here to return to.
Strange considering he was the key for Yuuri's survival.
Wolfram was about to cast his eyes towards his shoes when he caught sight of Gisela frantically leaving her small clinic. The green haired medic dashed through the hall, brushing past Wolfram unknowingly. Greta... He recalled what Yuuri had told him. In weak sobs Yuuri confessed that the Maoh had hurt Greta; that Greta was still locked up in the infirmary and that was all he knew. Tears pooled in his eyes and his voice caught in his throat. His little girl...
"May I..." Wolfram swallowed, his unreadable eyes trailing the faint cracks in the floor they had traveled. There was one more thing the blonde had wanted to do before he chained himself to Yuuri. One more, small, tiny thing he absolutely needed to do in hopes that maybe, just maybe, he could find the strength to see this reality, to see that his daughter was as badly hurt as his nightmares said she was. "Before we go to the Temple...may I see Greta...?"
"I really wouldn't recommend it..." The Sage wearily said. The noble flinched. Oh Shinou what happened to her while he was away? Murata seemed to sense his conflict and said, "After the ceremony. I'll permit you to see her after the ceremony. In the meantime...just brace yourself Lord Bielefeld."
The statement, though probably meant to come off as comforting, left behind an indescribable dread.
The trip to the temple was uneventful. Murata, thankfully, had the foresight to have the carriage arranged and at the ready for their departure. However it was shocking to find both Conrad and Gunter already seated within its confines-Gunter looking as if he'd been dragged against his will. "I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised." The sage said even though his voice sounded as if he already predicted this long ago. Nothing more was said after that. Everyone boarded the carriage and the long ride towards the temple began.
When they arrived Ulrike was already out front, waiting. Her childlike features brightening for mere moments when Wolfram climbed out. "We've prayed for your safe return, Lord Bielefeld. I am glad you are still among us."
Wolfram tried to smile at her thoughtful comment, but his worry was the only thing that shone.
"Ulrike let us get started." Murata said, stepping inside, immediately heading towards the innermost chamber. The woman followed her Sage dutifully with carefully paced steps on her majestic stroll towards the ceremonial chamber. Wolfram wasn't nearly as graceful. He was so absorbed in his thoughts. Greta, Yuuri, the war all lingered within his mind. His brother knew what he was feeling and thus Conrad cast that small, comforting smile that Yuuri always used to believe. He, however, couldn't. The reality was too painful for it to be hidden by Conrad's smile.
The farthest door of the innermost chamber opened. It's beautiful room glistening with the morning sun, casting a hand of perfection against the archways that surrounded the center of the chamber. In the center, in the midst of the archways stood Ulrike and Murata, both looking to the fascinated blonde. Wolfram caught the dark gaze that reminded him of Yuuri's and all fascination left. He was here for a reason, not to gawk.
"Let us begin..."
He never thought he'd come to hate three words so much.
"So..." Fredrick started, nervously swallowing to buy some time. Gwendal had him pinned with a blood thirsty glare of doom that would have ensured a painful death if it wasn't for the fact that the red head was currently useable. The Quinn noble scratched the back of his neck, feeling the hairs standing on end, and tried to find a way to still his frantic thoughts. "We uh...we have a problem or a potential problem. That problem being the prisoner downstairs..."
"He's not dead, is he?" Gwendal demanded, slouching over his desk with apparent exhaustion.
"Uh...no, sadly." It really was a pity. "He kept talking about Heika's...uh...weakness...and-can I ask you something?" Gwendal raised a brow. Fredrick sighed. Why are Wolf's brothers so terrifying? "Heika does have a weakness...and that weakness is Wolfram isn't it?" The Earth user bowed his head with a heavy sigh and folded his agitated hands.
"Heika's weakness is his abundant kindness...though currently yes. Right now Wolfram is his greatest weakness and our greatest hope."
"Then we definitely have a problem." Fredrick dared to step closer and leaned against the desk with his hands. He looked over the maps that were strewn all over the other noble's desk with vague interest. So many villages were circled, some crossed out in fine dark ink. "It seems they plan on attacking. I think they plan on killing Wolfram." He looked up, finding Gwendal staring at him with his usual stoic look. Yet the gears in the man's mind were turning.
"Explain." He demanded.
Fredrick stepped back, wringing his hands together as he paced the room. He was tired, staying up all night with worry gnawing at him in anticipation for the next guard to come take watch, had taken its exhausting toll. His thoughts were everywhere. So much had transpired in such little time. There was no room for rest, no room to mend a broken heart. It was find a job and be useful because they were on the brink of utter destruction should every able body fail to comply with any demand.
"He spoke in riddles. He said that they knew of our "madden king's weakness". The prisoner never specified what, or even who, but..." he shrugged. "Wolfram is the only weakness I can think of."
"And if they kill him or even possess him..." Gwendal shook his head, shoulders slumping even more. "Currently my brother is with Conrad and Gunter undergoing the marriage ceremony." Fredrick wisely didn't flinch. He already knew that the moment the eldest of the brothers chased him down for the divorce papers. "He should be safe for the time being. With any luck Wolfram should be able to snap Heika out of his madness soon enough."
"And another thing..." The Voltaire noble looked up. Bags were prominent under his eyes, casting a cold shadow over the dark blue orbs. "We may or may not have less than a week." Again, Fredrick shrugged. "He said within the week..."
"Then my brother has a lot of work ahead of him."
Fredrick frowned and peeked over his shoulder. There was a fearfully malicious gaze that scared him more than Gwendal's glare. When he looked, he found nothing.
But he could have sworn he saw glowing snake's eyes for just a brief moment.
No one seemed to recall that he had the ability to walk, to run, to listen and see. He could with ease move about his castle and no one prevented him from doing such. Guards moved out of his way, maids scurried into different rooms. A path was always cleared for him.
Fredrick and Gwendal spoke of a prisoner. A prisoner who wanted to kill his precious Wolfram.
Against his will, his body moved. Against all reason, his feet dragged him towards the dungeon below. In the caged cell was a human. Dirty and chained, willful and spiteful, the man looked towards the monarch and laughed. "So they've finally sent you."
"The humans hurt him." He agreed. The humans did. But Greta didn't. "He promised to protect you." Wolfram had made that promise. The blonde youth had promised to protect Yuuri from himself while the other was out risking his life to fix what Yuuri helplessly destroyed. "So why don't you protect him…?" The thought of how did filter within the double black's mind. Yuuri was weak without his friend, without Conrad or Gwendal or Gunter. The only time he could ever have been considered powerful was when his current malevolent other self overtook him.
"What's the matter? Are you here to talk or to torture? Or perhaps you truly are too benevolent to harm the prisoner?" The captive grinned. For once Yuuri and the Maoh were staring through the same eyes-a feat that chilled him to the core. Was this truly Yuuri peeking through his own eyes or was this the Maoh distorting him the same way Yuuri's chaotic thoughts did to the other?
"You hurt Wolfram." Yuuri stated, continuing to survey this potential foe.
"Does that truly matter?"
Something within him snapped.
Yuuri slammed against the cell bars, grabbing them with a vengeance as his eyes glowed their wild gold. The prisoner jumped and pressed his back flat against the wall. Such a sudden change from a lost boy to a mad man scared the wits out of him. "You'll pay." Yuuri snarled. His mind race, his thoughts pulsing wildly. The Maoh's and his mixed into one, as if in complete unison. The need for death-the prisoner's death-was great.
The cell bars could only hold for so long.
"I stand in place of the Maoh." Murata declared, pulling Wolfram closer to Ulrike. It was a painful statement that the Great Sage had said. Painful because it was just another reminder that Yuuri was no longer the fragile boy who showered the world over and over with his unabashed kindness. Wolfram's eyes narrowed into thin slits, thoughts pondering at how any of this would play after he fixed the king. There would be no failure on his part; Wolfram was a proud, pure bred mazoku who refused to accept that this would be the end of Yuuri. He had spent far too long chasing after the double black monarch just to lose him to something so silly.
Ulrike nodded. "Then let us begin." Her hands raised, touching the blonde crown of locks on the soldier's head, her lips quirking into a small smile as her eyes bore into Wolfram's. "Since this is an informal ceremony it won't be as grand as you were expecting Lord Bielefeld."
Wolfram licked his dry lips. "If this is the only means to save Yuuri, then I don't care." He stated, stubbornly sticking his chin out and straightening his shoulders. He had already done far too much damage with his insistent needs. This was the reason Shin Makoku was at war once again, why Yuuri was so tortured and why Greta was so injured.
The shrine Maiden's smile turned sad. "May Shinou watch over you."
Ulrike handed Murata a black band. Painted metal that glistened faintly under the candle lit room lightly touched the pale skin of the sage. Murata's expression was unreadable, even as he approached Wolfram with the band in hand. Cold, calculating black eyes flickered from the thick metal to the soldier's wrist, as if pondering over something so simple. Wolfram already knew what to do, what was going on and what was going to happen next. Murata was clasp the band onto his wrist, tying it tightly to the point that it would feel as if Wolfram was chained once again. The other band would go onto Murata, who stood in Yuuri's place for the moment. Afterwards, Ulrike would tie a red string on the bands, symbolizing that they were "soul mates" joined together and then she would chain them together-to symbolize that this was a binding. A heavy, painful binding.
Wolfram swallowed thickly, holding his left wrist up expectantly with a small shiver. He had always wanted to do this. He wanted Yuuri to be on the other end of the stupid string, looking just as nervous as he yet smiling the same sheepish grin he felt the need to grace everyone with. The monarch would have chuckled awkwardly, trying to relay some sort of message through gesture alone and Wolfram would understand. After that they would be together. Ulrike would have completed the ritual without any hassle and he and Yuuri would have been bound together as one.
But that couldn't be.
Yuuri was on his way to an early grave. Shin Makoku was on its way to war. So instead it was Murata who took the band, who continued on with the ceremony, who was everything that Yuuri was not. There was no sheepish grin, no awkward chuckle or nerves. It was all a cold formality, another reminder that there was no Yuuri. The blonde mazoku closed his eyes to hide his overwhelming pain. Murata clasped the band, the metal tightening painfully tight over the thin wrist to a degree that he feared his fingers would fall off from lack of blood flow.
"Forever bound you two are. Until death do you part, until Shinou rests your soul," Ulrike said, her soft voice echoing dully in the room. "You now fight for the Maoh. You now fight for your king, your commander and your significant other. You fight to protect him. You fight to protect his kingdom as he fights to protect his consort, your home." He peeked through thinned eyes and found the string knotting around his wrist, trailing all the way to Murata who still held his arm. Wolfram wanted to growl and yank his limb back. He wasn't going to run. "Forever bound you two are, until death do you part, until Shinou rests your soul." She began again. Her small fingers grabbed for the chains. The heavy links all clanked together, rattling unhappily as she inched the ends towards the two. "Forever bound, I have made you. Forever bound you have agreed to. Until death do you part, until Shinou rests your soul." Two clinks were made in successful successions. The metal band that was already heavy grew in weight. It was a fight to hold his wrist up, the burden of the metal putting a strain on his left arm. "You fight as one; you rule as one, you love as one. Forever bound you two are until death do you part, until Shinou rests your soul." The shine maiden held up the middle of the chain, offering it to the two young boys. Murata and Wolfram grabbed the chain, holding it up with their bound hands. "These bonds that now tie you together are heavy. If you support as one, if you fight as one, if you love as one, if you rule as one, they will lessen." She unchained the ends of the chains and her large eyes looked into theirs with a stern, wistful gaze. "These bonds that now tie you together are heavy. If you support as one, fight as one, love as one, rule as one, they will lessen." Murata and Wolfram dropped the chains and Ulrike smiled. "Forever bound you two are. Until death do you part, until Shinou rests your soul. You now fight for the Maoh. You now fight for your kind, your commander and your significant other. You fight to protect him. You fight to protect his kingdom as he fights to protect your home and his Consort. Forever bound...you two are." And with that, she cut the string.
Not more than half an hour later was Wolfram no longer a free man. Not more than half an hour later were his wings clipped away and a heavy chain wrapped its way around the newly bonded pair. Wolfram looked to the thick black band that attached itself to his left wrist, wondering why in all of Shin Makoku he had wanted this piece of jewelry so badly. It was heavy, inconvenient and rather morbid considering the circumstances. The meaning was still there, however. Even if the ceremony was informal, even though Murata had to step in in Yuuri's place, it signified that he and Yuuri were one.
Another band was thrust into his face, leaving the blonde a bit dazed as he was rudely ripped from his thoughts. Murata held Yuuri's band, dangling it precariously between his fingers. "Put this on Shibuya when you return. After you've visited Greta of course." Wolfram cupped the piece of jewelry in his hands. It was made exactly like the band on his wrist. A sleek black metal that was hardly flexible and once it was clicked on, it was impossible to clip off.
Wolfram clutched the band closer to him. He had wanted this all those years ago and never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he'd obtain it, much less in this unorthodox way. Yet, now he just wants to throw the damn thing away and pretend none of this ever happened. He wanted it all to be just a rather long dream, one he'd wake up out of to find the wimp sprawled out on the floor with Greta giggling from the doorway to wake up. He wanted this to all just have been a crazy, crazy dream.
Murata kept his promise as much as Wolfram secretly wished the Sage hadn't.
He had only heard of the attack on his precious daughter-that she was gravely injured and the only suspect was their crazy king. Wolfram hadn't wanted to believe it. Yuuri couldn't have hurt their little girl even if she wasn't so little any more. He paused before the door, his heart as heavy as lead and body stiff as steel. Please...please be alright. He prayed before bracing himself and opening the door.
On a single bed that was tucked away in the corner of the room lay her precious child. Her soft brown, curly locks laying themselves onto the pillow. Her eyes closed, flickering every now and then. She was so still, so quiet compared to the hyper active child he remembered. The only piece of information that calmed his beating heart was the rhythmic breathing. Her chest fell up and down in an even pattern.
However, she looked so cold.
Wolfram stumbled to her side, unable to comprehend the sight before him. His hands blindly reached for his daughter, grasping at her frail, limp hand with a feverish need to reaffirm she was indeed alive. Her skin, though healthy, had never felt so cold. "I'll be back to pick you up in half an hour." Murata stated quietly. His voice barely registered in Wolfram's head. The blonde's thoughts all occupied on how he had failed miserably at protecting everything he'd come to cherish. "I really am sorry Lord Bielefeld." The sage whispered before shutting the door with a soft click.
Tears fell from the bright emerald eyes, glassy and hollow as he tucked his sleeping girl in. His hands trembled, his sight blurred, the salty liquid staining her pale skin with his sorrow. Wolfram held back a sob and pressed his forehead against her arm-all the while begging for Greta to forgive him.
He'd done the unthinkable, all those months ago. He damaged Yuuri in a way no one seemed to be able to and he destroyed a kingdom that was never destined to fall.
"I'm so sorry..." he cried to a child that could not even hear him.
The Sage stayed by the door for a while longer. He was afraid that it would have been too much for Wolfram to take in and he did not want to leave the blonde vulnerable during his time of grief. However the moment he heard the cries and sobs, the moment he heard the muffled "I'm so sorry" Murata took his leave. All of this was too saddening. He may have been the Great Sage in his past life-a calculating strategist-but he never claimed to be emotionless.
A blood curling scream caught Fredrick's wavering attention. The red head jumped at the ready, throwing himself into the castle dungeon only to come face to face with the mad golden orbs that demanded blood. Fredrick yelped and leapt back. What is Heika doing here? As much as he wanted to check on the prisoner, he didn't trust leaving the king an opening. The noble drew his sword. His eyes trained on his opponent and his body fell into a loose stance. Knees slightly bent, hands grasping the hilt of the sword firmly and shoulders squared, Fredrick readied himself for battle should the king wish for such.
The Maoh looked at his blade with morbid interest. An interest that was sending a shudder down Fredrick's spine. The read head slowly backed up, step by step towards the exit, eyes still watching the others. Step by agonizing step until he turned and made a mad dash out of the dungeon, telling everyone near that their king was on the loose and he was out for blood.
The door to the infirmary slammed open. Two unconscious bodies were lugged in by two other guards and an unamused Murata grabbed Wolfram by the arm.
"But I-"
A cold glare halted the rest of Wolfram's sentence. "Things have changed. Shibuya escaped." Wolfram's eyes widened. "You need to find him and finish the binding ceremony now. It can't wait another minute."
"Where is he?"
"The last I heard he was in the dungeon." The soldier nodded, gulping back the bit of fear that lodged itself in his throat. Casting one hesitant gaze towards his sleeping daughter, he left. Wolfram pushed past everyone who had watched his walk of shame earlier in the morning, frantically willing himself to go faster to find his now betrothed. He vowed to Yuuri to stop him.
He only prayed he wasn't too late.
"Over here!" His ex-husband called, flailing his arms in the air. Wolfram sped over towards the entrance, pushing past the red head and jumping down the stairs.
The sight there was familiar. Blood pouring, pooling on a face downed corpse that was pale compared to the crimson fluid it sputtered out from fatal wounds. Yuuri stood by the body as if guarding it from prying eyes, rigid. Calm down. Just calm down. He commanded himself to fight off the returning guilt. Wolfram's meal wanted to hurl itself onto the pavement and his legs were rapidly losing their support. His instincts demanded he run away from the scene. To banish the horrifying pictures in his mind what happened not even days ago. The only thing stopping him was the bracelet that was chained to his wrist.
Wolfram gulped and fought off the urge to run. He could do this. He had to do this. "Yuuri…" the blonde winced, cursing himself as his voice was a pitiful weak whimper. "Yuuri!" He said again with more conviction. The monarch didn't respond. Wolfram forced himself forward, stumbling on shaky legs towards his now-husband. "Yuuri what-" he spun the other around, finding his wimpy king staring through hollowed eyes. Yuuri's mouth was dropped open, tears staining his skin and his mind seemingly distant. "Yuuri…?"
"He's dead." Yuuri suddenly said. It was weak, quiet with a breaking tone. "He's dead…I killed him…" As much as the blonde wanted to deny that, the proof was evident. Yuuri's hands were forever stained with the blood of his first victim.
"Oh Yuuri…" Wolfram whispered softly, gently tugging at the other's hand. His pale one clung to Yuuri's bloody one, holding on with a trembling grip as he fished the band from his pockets. The black metal bracelet was brought out a moment later and Wolfram clipped it on. A resounding click dully echoed through the empty dungeon, now permanently binding Yuuri to him. "It'll be okay…" he said quietly, patting his husband's arm.
Dark orbs peered down to the metallic band. A flicker of recognition shone before being consumed by the swell of emotions the youth harbored. Wolfram wrapped his arms around Yuuri, hiding his face from the painfully familiar sight. "It'll be okay."
Yuuri jerked himself away. He pushed the blonde back and stepped back, nearly tripping over the mutilated corpse. "It can't be, Wolfram…I-I just…I just killed someone!" Another step and his footing wasn't careful. His foot caught on the outstretched arm and down the king stumbled, landing in the blood of his victim.
Wolfram couldn't help but wince. Brandt was the only one who saw him stumble among the bodies of the people he'd murdered. It was such a terrifying thing to feel-warm blood turning cold and the knowledge that this was once a living creature that no longer had any days to look forward to. However there was a vast difference between Wolfram and Yuuri and that was how they grew up. In time, perhaps this fear would fade. The guilt, he understood, would forever haunt him until his dying breath. For Yuuri this moment would never leave him alone or let him be.
The pure bred Mazoku once again forced himself forward. This was the man who forced him to slaughter and who forced his king's hand, he thought trying to reason with himself. This was not the body of an innocent villager or the body of his beloved comrade who fearfully watched his captain killed. "Yuuri-"
"Nothing you say is going to change anything! I listened to the Maoh! I-I…we saw things the same…I'm a murderer! I-"
"Yuuri…several days ago I took the lives of many men. I…I killed one of my own." Yuuri went quiet, his wide, teary eyes trained on the blonde. "I'm not any better than you. I had no reason to kill them the way I did." So close. His precious Maoh was so close. Wolfram reached out, grabbing onto another of Yuuri he could. He needed the comfort of his king, to know he hadn't fought in vain. Those people would never return and Wolfram knew that the moment he drew his sword. He didn't want their deaths to have been for naught. He grabbed Yuuri, slowly lowering himself to hug the mad monarch. It was comforting to feel the other youth alive and warm-unlike those cold bodies, unlike his still daughter. Yuuri was here and he was on the mend. There was hope for him. Wolfram would destroy the world to ensure there was some form of hope for him. "That's why I can say it'll be okay. We'll get through this together." He held tighter. "And no one else will have to die."
He already knew something within Yuuri broke the moment he regained his sanity and saw the dead prisoner. Something within every soldier always breaks when they kill another living creature. Conrad had once said that to live was a form of atonement. To acknowledge this fear and sympathy for the enemy was a sign of humanity still possessed within. Yuuri was lucky to not have remembered how exactly he killed the human. To not hear their screams, their pleas and begging as they spoke of their family and friends was the greatest blessing anyone could have bestowed upon his fragile Maoh. For that, Wolfram silently thanked the violent creature that dwelled within the ever kind Yuuri, but when Yuuri returned the embrace and buried his face in his shoulder with loud, screaming sobs, Wolfram wanted to destroy the creature until not even a single shred of matter was left.
Wolfram held on and silently cried as well. He never wanted any of this to have happened.
Murata stood on the steps of Blood Pledge Castle. His glasses glistening under the harsh light. Noon had come, morning had finally left them all and perhaps the change would be welcomed as a blessing. Love and hate indeed walk a very fine line. He thought, watching as the people scurried about. Now that Lord Bielefeld has returned, Shibuya should quiet down for a while. Murata didn't know what became of the prisoner and he wasn't quite sure as to how sane Yuuri was when he entered the dungeon. If the Sage was correct and the prisoner was dead, Wolfram would have a lot more on his hands than simply dealing with a volatile king. The rest is up to Lord Bielefeld. Should he fail…then Shibuya will be lost to us forever. He did have a few schemes of his own hidden under his sleeves should things get bad. However he had a feeling as long as Wolfram lived, things would work out on their own.
The afternoon sun, though bright, though harsh, felt seemingly ominous. Murata breathed in the once fresh air and smelled the faint scent of smoke.
Four days had passed since the prisoner incident and Yuuri was confined to their room. Wolfram wasn't allowed to leave and the blonde couldn't muster up the strength to even try. Yuuri was clinging to him like he was his last lifeline, like Wolfram was the only thing grounding him here. Not too far off from the truth. He mused. The pair was sprawled out on the royal bed with Wolfram placed in the center and Yuuri wrapping his body closely to the blonde. It was dusk, the sun setting and Yuuri still had yet to wake.
It was the first time Yuuri slept peacefully ever since that incident. For the past several days he slipped in and out of delusions induced by his guilt. There were times when he was crazy enough that his eyes switched to gold and Wolfram was suddenly a willing prisoner. Those times, though, were the most painful. Yuuri was always crying, clinging to him with a desperate need as if Wolfram could be the one to dispel the illusion. And each time Wolfram was reminded of how utterly weak he was.
Wolfram sat up, using his arms for support as he shifted into a more comfortable position for both. The young monarch was practically falling off of the bed. He watched patiently, looking over Yuuri in case he needed to be quickly awoken. Yuuri looked so young in his sleep, so much like the handsome teen who first arrived to their world. Lashes dark against the tanned skin, black hair falling elegantly with each toss and turn, his arms securely around the soldier's waist with a reluctance to let go. He was indeed much like a child clutching onto their favorite toy during their sleep. Wolfram didn't have the heart to try and break his peaceful slumber.
His battle honed senses went off and he was quick to shield Yuuri from the possible threat. Yuuri was rudely awoken, finding himself hopelessly lost as to what was going on. Wolfram's eyes were focused on the window, cursing whoever for making them so large. "What's going on?" Eventually Yuuri feebly asked.
"We're under attack." Wolfram said his voice distant as he tried to listen for any footsteps. He needed to get Yuuri to a more secluded spot, somewhere safe with several guards. As it stood there was only him and a window standing between the king's possible demise. Wolfram rolled off of the bed, crouched and tip toed towards the window to sneak a quick peek of the battlefield.
He nearly wished he hadn't.
"We don't have enough men…" he murmured.
"Huh?" The ever loveable king squeaked. It was a massacre outside. Their forces were falling swiftly. The enemy had come prepared and in large numbers to their front steps. Damn it! Now of all times. Even he knew that this was the ample time to strike. The Maoh was crazy, their defense was scattered and Shin Makoku was vulnerable. Had Wolfram been the warrior on the other side he would have approved of this course of action. However this was his home and he was damning the men who dared to try and destroy what was his.
Wolfram turned, catching Yuuri's wide black eyes and a fierce determination to protect what he was fixing arose. "We need to head to the underground chamber." He said, pulling Yuuri off of the bed and out into the hall. He paused only once to grab his sword and fasten it to his side.
"Wait! What about the people outside? What about them?" The worry was there, as expected of Yuuri. He was afraid to see death once again.
"Right now we need to focus on getting you to safety." He pushed them against the wall and poked his head around the corner. It was empty. Something new considering the castle was normally teeming with life. Wolfram crept around, dragging a half stumbling double black with him.
The Maoh's office was in sight. So far no one had entered within the brick confines of the castle. It was a quick dash in which Wolfram's heart raced. It was practically a suicide run. Anyone could have popped up; a number of traps could have been lying in wait for their sudden arrival. He had risked their life on the belief that there was no one in the hall. A belief that held true as they safely entered the broken office. Ever since Yuuri's fit no one stepped inside. None of the maids had the courage to.
Wolfram let go of Yuuri, running towards the switch that would reveal the set of stairs. He didn't have time. No one had time. As it stood, they were running on borrowed time. He pushed against the mantel, frantically trying to find the button when a sudden groan clicked into place and the stairwell revealed itself on the floor behind the desk. Yuuri looked down the hole and then back to Wolfram.
"Yuuri we don't have time. Please, just…please go and don't come out until it's safe." He begged. Yuuri's eyes widened and his hands flew to grasp at Wolfram's own.
"What about you? Wolf you can't-"
"I have to Yuuri. This is my job! It is what I agreed to when I became a soldier and when I married you!" He lifted his arm, showing the black band that would no longer be removed. "Please Yuuri, just go into the chamber and hide. I promise I'll be back." It was an empty promise, but he hoped it was enough to fool the monarch.
"No! You already disappeared once! You'll just…no!" Yuuri's eyes were already fading into the bright gold. "I won't let you!"
There wasn't much thought behind Wolfram's next action. All he knew was there was a need to get Yuuri to safety and to get himself to the battlefield. He didn't have time. No one had time. It was a simple nudge that sent the Maoh down the flight of stairs. Yuuri tumbled, falling and rolling down the cement bricks until he reached the bottom with his eyes looking up betrayed and fearful. Wolfram steadied himself.
"I'm sorry." He said and closed the passageway. It was only buying him time. Eventually Yuuri would get out. The Maoh proved he wasn't completely incapable. Wolfram stepped back, looking to the closed passage with a sigh. "I'm sorry wimp." And ran out of the office.
"Thank Shinou you're okay!" Fredrick's voice echoed in the hall. Wolfram stopped in his run, finding the red head catching up to him. "Wolfram you need to-"
"Yuuri is in the hidden chamber within the Maoh's office. There's a button on the mantel, press it and it should open." He quickly said.
Fredrick blinked. "What?"
Wolfram glared. "I have Yuuri locked up. It won't be too long until he gets out though and then the wimp will try and go out on the battlefield to find me. They're going to hurt him-"
"No, you're not going out onto that field Wolfram! It's a massacre out there!" Fredrick growled. The blonde gritted his teeth. This was war. Massacre or not he had a duty to the kingdom to fight until he could no longer.
"I'm going and there is nothing you can do to stop me!"
"Will you listen-"
"No you listen!" Wolfram hissed. "This is war! If Yuuri falls then-"
"It was never about Yuuri-heika!" Fredrick shouted, slamming the blonde into the wall. "It's you they're after! If you fall then the Maoh will never regain sanity, then Shin Makoku would weaken and then the Mazoku empire would come to an end!" Green eyes bore into green with an intensity that sparked nothing but rage for both parties.
Wolfram glared. "I refuse to stand back and allow them to swarm the castle. We're defenseless Lord Quinn." He spat, causing the red head to wince. They had no men now. Yuuri's grand idea to send the majority of the army around the world had left a wide opening the Dai Shimeron hadn't wasted. Though the men were recalled, most went as far as human territory. It took time to get there and therefore it would take time to return.
Another earthquake shook the castle and Fredrick's grip loosened. "I won't let them kill you Wolfram." He whispered, touching their foreheads together in a tender touch. Wolfram swallowed dryly and turned away from the blatant affections.
"They won't. They can't Lord Quinn because as long as Yuuri needs me then I won't stand down nor will I be taken down. I am this kingdom's shield as I am their sword. My duty as Consort dictates as such." Wolfram replied, pushing the other back lightly. It was never in his nature was wait around for others to protect him. No, he was a soldier first and foremost and he had forgotten those months ago. He had a duty to this kingdom and he was forever bound to Yuuri-even before the ritual. It was foolish of him to try and run away from his birthright, the bit of him that stated that he fight for the king until his dying breath. Wolfram made a fist, remember his pledge many years ago when he watched his brothers' backs disappear from sight during the war. He promised to never allow that to happen again. No one should have to watch their beloved ones leave and question whether or not they'll return this time around. "I'm going to the battlefield whether you agree with me or not Lord Quinn." He muttered. It appeared Fredrick understood that nothing was going to stop him from going-nothing short of what the enemy was doing to their men. "But...I have a request."
Fredrick's ears practically perked. "What is it? Anything Wolfram, I..." He swallowed. "My affections for you will never sway. I know I did a lot of things wrong during our brief marriage, but that does not mean I will ever stop loving you." His eyes twinkled under the dying sun, under the red tinted sky where men outside were dying with each passing word spoken. Wolfram blinked away the memories and grounded himself to reality. He had a duty. Nothing was going to get in the way of that.
Wolfram placed a heavy hand on the red head's shoulder. "Keep Yuuri safe. He's a wimp, a spineless fool at times...but he is our king. Don't make me mourn him." Fredrick nodded and pulled the smaller mazoku in for a quick hug.
"And likewise, don't make us mourn you." Fredrick whispered. Once he released the fiery soldier, he watched that small back disappear. Wolfram stepped out of the door and onto the battlefield with his weapons drawn and his maryoku at the ready. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that could often only be found in a man who fought knowing he was going to die. Stepping onto the weakening stairs, watching with calculating eyes as men by men fell, he hardened his resolve.
He was a soldier for the mazoku people, a fighter for Shin Makoku and most importantly, the shield and sword for their half maddened king.
Fredrick resigned himself to the daunting task of caring towards the king. As much as he wished someone else had been bestowed this mission, Wolfram had asked. Therefor he had to see this through. He found himself in the messy room, staring at the mantel wondering why in the name of Shinou was there a hidden chamber in the Maoh's office. His calloused hands felt for the button, fumbling against it until a clicking noise was heard and the passage just behind him opened. Fredrick glanced over his shoulder and found unhappy serpent orbs glaring up from the dark. If the war doesn't kill me then the Maoh certainly will. He bitterly thought.
"Move." The king said in an angry hiss.
"Uh…no." He responded back, climbing down the stairs with his weapon at the ready. "You're stuck with me buddy." He stood right in front of the royal, just barely stepping off of the last step. The supposed famed Yuuri was shockingly shorter than Fredrick was. The red head figured that a man so important and powerful would have towered over him easily. As it stood, Yuuri barely came up to his forehead.
"Move!" The Maoh demanded this time around.
"No." He growled. Yuuri lunged, an attack the noble was anticipating since he caught sight of the glowing eyes. It was a matter of timing as he grabbed the stretched out arms. In a single movement Fredrick had his king held by the collar of his uniform and pinned with a glare. Wolfram was out there fighting for this man who acted as if he didn't want to be saved. He watched too many times where the blonde would hold such a far off gaze that spoke of heartbreak and sorrow. This was the man who ruined the soldier months ago, the man who willingly let such a beautiful creature slip from his grasp. Fredrick always loathed the Maoh whenever Wolfram tried to appear strong during their marriage, afraid to be hurt once more and dare to love the Quinn noble in return. Now his loathing was vile hatred.
"Listen; while you're sitting here having some form of an emotional, psychotic break down, Wolfram is out there fighting to protect you!" Fredrick snarled. His fists balled up in the dark material of the monarch he swore, like all of Shin Makoku, to obey and protect. Yuuri-heika, the Maoh who had brought peace to their war-ravished land, was nothing more than a coward who couldn't face the truth. Fredrick was sick of watching the blonde, fiery mazoku beat himself over displeasing the king, of failing him and practically killing himself to fix a mess he made.
The gold seeped away and in its place were wide, black orbs that peered into the honest green. Fredrick saw the helpless, fleeting glint in his eyes. What's so great about him? He growled to himself. "I-I didn't…"
"Didn't what? Want Wolfram to risk his life to protect your legacy? There are hundreds of men out there, each armed with houseki stones, and all we have is a mere handful of soldiers in comparison! At this point, I don't particularly give a damn about you. In fact, I'd much rather just throw you out in front of them and stop all of this nonsense! But for some reason you're the boss!" The Quinn noble continued to shout, his larger form still easily pinning the royal to the brick wall. Yuuri glared.
"Even if you hand me over to them they still won't back down. They want Shin Makoku-,"
"And I'd say let them have it! I'd do just about anything to protect Wolfram, anything to keep him out of the battlefield! Heika, this is how deep my loyalties and devotions lie towards him. Yet for some reason he's forsaken them and came crawling back to you when nothing but agony awaited him in the end." Fredrick released the king and took a bit of satisfaction in seeing the double black stumble. "The least you could do is pretend to care."
"I do care…" Yuuri's voice was pitiful, quiet and meek. He couldn't look Fredrick in the eyes, only casting his listless gaze down towards the ground. "If I had known annulling the engagement would mean Wolfram disappeared, then I wouldn't have done it. All those months without him…I realized that…" the monarch swallowed thickly. "I need him. I always have."
"So you love him."
The wide eyes became even wider, panicked and alarmed at the statement the other had made. Fredrick bit his tongue, holding at bay the sudden swell of anger. "No! Wolfram's a…" Yuuri's gaze backtracked downwards once more. "I do…don't I…?"
"I dunno, you tell me." The red head leaned back, crossing his arms with a huff. He was dealing with a moody king-still relatively unstable as well-while less skilled men than he were taking up arms and dying.
"I don't know. I mean…he's Wolfram. He's the fiery, blonde bishounen who likes to throw fireballs at me when he's angry. He gets jealous pretty easy, and he has a temper not to mention that he kicks me off the bed and hogs the covers from me at night."
Fredrick blinked before throwing his head back in a hearty laugh. "Yeah he does!" Yuuri smiled softly before realizing that that meant Wolfram and the noble had shared the same bed. The smile died abruptly as his eyes glowed gold. Fredrick held his hands up, still grinning humorously. "Cool it there, Heika. Wolf and I only shared a room for about a week. That's all we did. Nothing more."
The double black coughed awkwardly, not having realized that his other personality was surfacing once more. "Sorry."
"No harm done. After all, it only takes a complete and utter moron to mouth off the most powerful person in Shin Makoku. I relish in my title."
"Actually…Wolf has you beat. Along with Gwendal." Yuuri said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. Fredrick shrugged.
"Yeah, but did they mouth off to you when you were highly volatile and unstable? No. Because, as said before, only a moron and I, good sir, am that moron." The red head paused for a moment and another grin worked its way onto his face.
Yuuri smiled his kind smile that everyone had sorely missed. "Even then, I still think Wolfram wouldn't have thought twice about it." The monarch shuffled quietly, his smile brightening with each passing memory of his blonde companion. Fredrick saw the sincerity behind such a loving smile. It caught him off guard for a moment, still not used to the sudden change in character from the other man. "But that's Wolf for you…"
There was no denying the look in the Maoh's face. Fredrick was sure at one point in time he too had made that same exact look when thinking of the stubborn youth. The honest, soft, joyous smile when thinking of the fiery mazoku, the sudden epiphany that somehow, someway that perfect being was somehow yours-it seemed Yuuri was dancing along the same lines as Fredrick had several months ago.
He smiled, closing his eyes in remembrance to those happy-filled days when Wolfram was his and his alone. "Yeah." Fredrick chuckled. "Though I have to disagree with the moron part. That's all me, buddy."
The king looked up, finding their light hearted conversation chasing out the rage the two had held for one another not only minutes ago. They both had a common interest and a common goal: protecting Wolfram. Yuuri grinned. "I'm the king moron here-both figurative and literally."
Fredrick laughed and kicked himself into a standing position. "I know I'm supposed to keep you here, but there are people out there dying and you're the only one powerful enough to stop it." He was going to do the complete opposite of what the blonde soldier had asked but there was a feeling that surfaced every time the emerald eyes mazoku emerged in his thoughts. An unsettling feeling accompanied with an indescribable dread that lingered when he watched Wolfram disappear. His hopes now fell onto a king who was barely considered sane. "So are you sane enough to try and diffuse a war going on your front steps?"
Yuuri scowled at the thought of war. His whole mission was to try and keep Shin Makoku out of it and now that he had lost control, they had been dragged right back into it. He should have listened to Gwendal, to Gunter-to everyone but that damn voice that hissed in his head. Now that Wolfram was back, now that the blonde had made it clear that he wasn't going anywhere nor was anything going to take him away, the voice had receded. "I don't know how…but I'm gonna try."
The red head nodded. "That's pretty much the only thing we can do now, Heika."
Yuuri drew himself to full height, still a bit irked on finding himself only at Fredrick's eyes rather than towering over him. The full-blooded mazoku was so tall in comparison to Wolfram. "Then what are we waiting for?" He said, taking off with his supposed guard right behind him.
Climbing out of the hidden room hadn't been easy. The passage was block with debris, perhaps from the enemy soldiers trying to find anything that would aid them in their war. When they did manage to surface, it was trying to find the quickest passage out towards the center of the chaos. The pair frantically ran throughout the halls of Blood Pledge Castle and barely had found a window leading to the grand battle when Yuuri saw it.
Yuuri barely caught it. The faintest glimpse of a shining silver metal that was headed straight towards the unsuspecting blonde. The monarch's pupil constricted, watching numbly, body still and deafened ears as time seemed to still. The blade was inching closer and Wolfram still hadn't noticed its presence. Yuuri's voice was caught in his throat and only when the crimson fluid flew in a majestic arc and the uniform clad body fell, did he suddenly scream.
"WOLFRAM!"