"This could be one of the most dangerous scrolls in this kingdom if it landed in the wrong hands," Chris handed the dark violet candle the same rich colour as his velvet robes to Mila.
She peered over his shoulder reading the elegant cursive letters. Leroy, Ji, Popovich, Nikola, de la Iglesia...they were names. The list went on as the scroll trailed down towards Chris's knees. They were once again in the dark chilly underground chamber with the cubbyholes and candles.
"Who are these people?" Mila rested one hand on Chris's shoulder with ease.
"Order of the Wisteria. They are nobles, powerful families and commoners alike across the kingdom who wanted this war to stop. This is a list of our allies." Chris watched her bellflower eyes widen with a semi amused expression.
"Chris," exasperated, as shivers ran down her spine, "how many more secrets do you carry?" She gripped Chris's velvet robe tight.
With a good natured chuckle, "one of my nicknames is the Secret Keeper, love." He ruffled her bright hair with affection. They were far from lovers, companions would be the closest word that would still not fully describe what they were to each other. Chris shook his head and muttered under his breath, "I wonder what kind of punishment awaits me for interfering with everything..."
Mila seemed to have heard, "Chris," she took one step sideways and forced him to make eye contact, "tell me what you are, a demon? A mage? Or an angel?"
"Mila, he gripped her shoulder with one hand," a hint of sadness tainted his smile, "there are...things about me you are better off not knowing. Laws that even I must obey that I can't explain," he knew she was determined to shake some answers out of him this time, he tucked a strand of her hair like the leaves of autumn behind her ear and sighed, "If I cared for you any less, I would have told you everything. All I want is for you to heal, after things the slave traders have done. You can stay by my side for as long as you please, you have complete freedom...and I am not going to hold onto anything."
"What if I want to stay...," Mila squeezed his hand without thinking.
Chris laughed, "you don't want to stick around the likes of me. I mean it. After the war is over, you should go back to your kind, find a lover, build a life together in the brand new world..."
Mila threw his hand abruptly, "don't tell me what I should do with my life." She turned away from him, dejected, "you have no right..."
"I'm sorry Mila...I didn't mean that..." for the first time in her eyes Chris looked vulnerable, "of course I would rather have you stay..." he opened his arms as Mila hesitated.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his muscular chest, inhaling his familiar scent, "fine." Her voice muffled. She hasn't forgiven him yet.
Her bright eyes widened as letters begun to appear on the scroll. Chris stretched it out before them, "This is my invention, vanishing ink," he added casually.
The same neat cursive writing appeared at the bottom of the scroll.
Yuri Plisetsky - the King we have chosen.
"So it's been decided, looks like the Order will act soon, I need to speak with Victor and Rochelle." Chris rolled the scroll and tucked it into his hidden pocket, "Mila, don't look at me like that, you know I don't like going to bed angry...alright, this is what I have been pondering for the past few days. According to Rochelle, the city is crawling with the Lesser Ones, which nobody but Rochelle could see - "
"This means invisible spies around every corner -" Mila finished his sentence, "we need so evacuate all of the demons and anyone on our side." Her heart pounded as her fingertips went numb as her chest grew heavier. Mila felt something cold and wet drip down her neck leaving her startled. This place always gave her goosebumps, she felt like air was being robbed from her lungs by the darkness, like she was in the depth of the underworld.
"Exactly, and Victor is in a precarious position, because any of his actions could lead the young Nikiforov Mages training under his family vulnerable to Azriel and Lilith." Chris's violet candle in his hand burnt low, as he moved his finger away in time to avoid a glob of wax rolling down.
"Well. With a strategist like you behind him, I'm reassured." Mila followed him close.
"Thank you..." Chris was taken aback by those words, "you are pretty sharp yourself." He touched her head gingerly, wondering if she was still going to push him away.
She didn't.
Mila was glad that the darkness hid the crimson on her cheeks, "we should be careful what we say from here on, you never know if one of the Fallen is following us here."
"Don't worry, I am the last person the Fallen dared to come near, there are wards I put up that repels them, this house of the courtesans is actually one of the safest places from those monsters in the capital, believe it or not."
They ascended the dark stone steps making a spiral towards the trapdoor from Chris's chamber. The entrance happened to be hidden inside his closet. Mila averted her eyes and blushed each time she opened the closet filled with objects Chris used for his work as one of the most sought after courtesans of this kingdom.
There were an object to satisfy every kind of fetish.
"I see, you finally made up your mind," there was a hint of a smile in his grandfather's voice. Yura stumbled into his grandfather's cabin. He was grateful the rain hid all traces of his tears he shed. His grandfather covered his hair with a towel knowing he wanted his face hidden. He begun to dry off his mangled golden mane.
Two more flashes of lightning lit up the sky then thunder rumbled.
"Do you think he'll come back?" Everywhere ached, he felt as if someone ripped him in half and left him to bleed.
"If he does, he would follow you out of his free will," his grandfather poured tea in the background, then he said a short phrase in the demons' ancient tongue.
Come what may...Yura begun to understand their mysterious language. Yura wiped his face as he sat down next to the old man on a wooden chair.
"I'm proud of you, Yuratchka," General Plisetsky touched the back of his hand with his wrinkled and callused palm from years on the battlefield, "you choose between right thing and the easy thing...Yura, I think you are ready to hear this."
Yura sipped into the comforting mint tea grown in his grandfather's backyard, his green eyes glistening, he leaned forwards.
"I'm sorry I kept this from you for so long," the formidable Mage General who taught Victor how to fight turned towards his grandson, "it's time I tell you the truth about your parents."
Yura almost dropped porcelain cup, at loss for words. He watched his grandfather's expression change into a mixture of the emotions he couldn't comprehend.
"His name is Loki, he is fearless, reckless, formerly an infamous womanizer scrutinized by mages and demon females alike. Rules of the lands don't apply to him. Some say he is a villain or a pirate, others consider him a hero. He sailed amongst many kingdoms, has friends, enemies across all corners of the earth he could reach...he also has one of the most distinct shapeshifter forms amongst their kind, a white tiger."
"You mean I-" Yura hasn't had a chance for all of this information to sink in yet. He covered his mouth one hand. Searching for Beka's comforting presence with the corner of his eyes, but only finding emptiness of the wooden cabin. He bit the base of his own thumb to stop his tears from spilling out. Get a grip...he hissed inside his mind.
"You are part shapeshifter, yes," Nicholai Plisetsky put down his cup, "after meeting your mother, Loki was a changed man. She was a tomboy, she played with swords, used to disguise as a commoner and travel to different parts of the kingdom to see what the nobles were up to, and she fought the corrupt from the dark with her own two hands. She was loved by our people. I had never seen her eyes sparkle the same way until she spoke of your father."
Yura sipped his tea in silence, clinging onto the warmth radiating from his cup. I wish...I had known my mother...I wish I could remember. The truth was no matter how much he tried, he could not conjure those memories or make the blurry face of the woman who gave him life any clearer.
"As you can imagine how I reacted when your mother told me she was pregnant. I was ready to kill that man at first with my bare hands," his grandfather chuckled, "but she begged me not to tell him. She knew given her position, she could not leave her people. And right before she left this world, shortly after you were born, she told me Loki had his own people to protect...Yura, you see, sometimes demons and mages do fall in love, like your parents did. Their children were often shunned, not belonging to either worlds. Loki took the halflings under his wings. He gave them homes, shielded them from the hunting forces of the King after he declared war against the demons. He cared for them when nobody else did," Sadness flashed through his ancient blue eyes, "you are the splitting image of your mother, Yura, I had no doubt that you will take her place in the Order..."
"The Order?" Yura gazed hard at the mint leaves in his tea.
"The Order of Wisteria," his grandfather nodded, "named after your mother's favourite flower. She started the secret organization after she met your father. Amongst the members that pledged loyalty to her are commoners and nobles alike who desired peace between the demons and mages. As the King and Victor's father's influence grew, the Order operated in silence, after your mother passed away, her organization waited in the darkness. Your father and his people left this land and sailed to the south, cutting all ties with the capital as you can imagined he was heartbroken after he found out your mother was gone. She never told him that she was pregnant, because otherwise he would never leave her side. They both lived for a purpose greater than themselves. ...Loki's reputation of being a womanizer also vanished along with him."
"Why are you telling me all of this now?" Yura wasn't sure how to process all of this information yet.
"Because the Order choose you, if you wish to accept," Nikolai glanced up at his grandson and paused, "to be their future King, Yura."
Yura's grip tightened around the corner of his traveling cloak, he turned around looking to exchange a glance with Otabek like looking for his shadow. Then he remembered that Beka was gone.
"I am sorry, I kept everything from you all these years, it was to protect you. Your mother made me promise to tell you only when you are ready. The Order has a fierce battle before them, and they were anxious for the glimmer of hope that is you, Yuratchka, if you so choose...and she left you this..." his grandfather opened his palm revealing a piece of amber mounted on an intricate metal cage ending in a spike.
A Firestone.
The promise his parents made...
Yura bit his lip and ran his hand along it's smooth surface. Wisteria, he closed his eyes and conjured image of its violet bloom swinging in the wind hanging from its vines. He imagined its soft scent, and found strength in its resilience. Somehow he felt closer to his parents at that moment. The thought of the Firestone brought him back to Otabek. He pictured in secret the scene how Otabek would give him his Firestone. He fantasized about what Beka's stone would look like: round, dark, smooth, boring, but sturdy, as a bedrock that would never his side.
He never knew the aftermath of setting Beka free would be this painful, even though Beka didn't speak much, Yura craved for his presence. The pain from inside was eating him alive. That was the first of the sharp headache started, like someone was hacking his skull open with an ice pick. Yura winced for a split second, then it vanished. It was probably nothing, he dismissed it with his mind and didn't bother tell his grandfather about it.
The summer storm raged on outside as if the sky wept.
They freed each other from their clothes in the rain as fast as they could, relishing every stolen moment they had before their skin seared again in pain from their powers that rejected each other.
Victor's body shuddered, either from the coldness of the downpour or from the place on his body Yuuri's tongue had just been. He clasped his lips with his hand.
Yuuri laughed a little at Victor's state of being undone and kept on going as Victor stroked the dark and leathery wings on his back. Yuuri kneeled before him and watched him through his own dark wet locks, now plastered against his forehead. Victor asked him to be in his full demon form this time. His appearance wasn't very much different from his Demi form, with the exception of his pointed ears and more prominent canines. His demon senses sharpened ten fold as a result. He could hear the sound of Victor swallowing, and his breaths becoming sharp and uneven.
My family accepted him...the selfish part of Yuuri could die of happiness right now, he smiled, I think we hid well enough for them to not be able to find us...if they do it certain works against having the family stamp of approval...
Despite they are in the middle of a war, despite that either of them could perish from it at any given time. He loved the way Victor glanced at him in this form, taking every line of his body in. He groaned from the way Victor sensually touched his wings.
He then kissed every inch of Victor's body while trying to not crush him under his weight. He was a little taller in this form after all. His hands ran hungrily over the chain Victor wore on his neck with his Firestone fastened to it. Someday, Victor...I'll walk you through the fire. He sucked on the pale and smooth skin on Victor's chest. He liked marking him as much as Victor enjoyed receiving his marks.
He remembered their first time, where Victor laid him on his back, and held him with such gentleness, and asking for his permission over and over, afraid that he would hurt him. His heart raced. He wasn't sure when they started switching places, but somehow it felt...right...
"...Yuuri, I'm ready for you..." Victor's face flushed as Yuuri removed both of his fingers.
Yuuri nodded, his heart beating wild, as he interlaced his fingers through Victor's long and slender ones. He kissed Victor's eyelashes, as drops of rain bounced from those beautiful silver strands. He sealed Victor's moan with his lips as his tongue explored Victor's mouth. He repositioned himself as Victor's grip tightened.
Victor bit his lip as he continued, and wave after wave of pleasure rippled through their bodies as the storm raged on and lightning accentuated Victor's silvery hair and pale complexion. Violent raindrops pounded on the earth, creating expanding circles with each point of impact. Their bodies pressed together, without any space between them, they ignored the rain and the rest of the world.
This moment belonged to them alone.
They wished time would stop.
Unbeknownst to them, their next reunion would come much sooner then they expected.
The half-angel and the demon prince, fighting on the same side.
Victor followed Yura down the passage from Chris's closet. He told him not to look at the objects inside the courtesan's closet, to his dismay, the sixteen year old scrutinized everything from top to bottom with curiosity.
Rochelle stalked behind them, she held back her silent laughter as she watched the way Victor regarded Yura with the look of an older brother mixed with the way a father looked at his son, and unsure what to to do.
They made their way to the hollow chamber deep in the earth where Chris and Mila waited. Stalactite hanging from the ceiling, illuminated by the torches in every direction.
Victor placed a warm hand on Yura's shoulder and didn't let go, until they made it towards the centre of the Secret Keeper's lair. Yura wasn't wearing his usual crimson mage attire with the matching gloves. He wore a simple set of white robes with extension of his shoulders resembling feathers and a grey shape resembling a star stitched across his chest. His father's amber hung against his heart.
They then realized the number of mages and demons alike gathered inside the cave, Chris greeted many of them like old friends.
Yura heard the sound of shuffling feet, claws, sudden sharp inhales and turn of heads as he approached the centre. He was grateful for Victor and Rochelle's warmth, next to him. His forest-green eyes searched the crowd, for the tuft of messy black hair and for his familiar broad shoulders. He gritted his teeth...Come what may...I have to learn to be strong without you, Beka. There's so much I want to tell you...The sharp headache returned once again for a few seconds. Yura had to slow down his step to keep his balance. Victor's hand returned to his shoulder in a reassuring grip as Chris begun to address the Order.
Yura could almost feel his mother's loving presence with them, inside this vacuum space. His heart pounded, why me? Then he remembered his past, of not completely feeling like he belonged in the school of Nikiforov Mages, and being mocked for being the bastard child. He thought of the haflings, that his father took under his wings to give them a place called home. Slowly he begun to understand.
At last it was his turn, he felt the sound of fabrics rubbing against each other, and knees touching the floor. Yura's eyes widened as they sunk to one knee before him in unison. Victor nodded at him, with his eyes Victor told him that said: I believe in you.
He was trained since a young age to be a prince, and leader. With a calm voice, he addressed his people, those words came naturally for him, at last he uttered, "...in the name of the Order of Wisteria," Yura grasped every trace of strength he could muster, "let's end this war." Beka, come back to me...I miss you...The soul shattering pain begun again. He was grateful the crowd was dispersing. Chris spoke softly with a few lingering members.
"Yura, I'm proud of you," Victor wrapped an arm around his shoulder, noticing the pain on his face. Yura wanted to cling onto his robes and cry more than anything, but he held back, because he could not allow his people to see that. He was their golden glimmer of hope. His usual self would whisper a snide remark back at Victor, but he didn't. So much happened in these past few hours, that tiredness crept upon him. The pain in his head only intensified, as Victor pulled him closer, while wiping the cold sweat that now covered his forehead.
"Beka?" He whispered because he became delirious from the pain.
"Yura!" Victor's voice was the last thing he heard before blackness filled his entire being. He was glad Victor whisked him away from the faces of his new Allies. Yura fell into Victor's arms and passed out.
Yura woke up to something ice and fire at the same time. One side of his body was pressed against something warm and firm, while everywhere else felt cold, as if he was drenched in water. The pulsating pain in his head was less severe because of the coolness surrounding him.
He tried to rub his eyes with his hand but instead of his own long fingers, he felt fur instead. Yura jumped as his vision came back to focus then blurry again as hot burning drops spilled out and he didn't bother wiping them.
"Shh, Yura, it's alright," Beka held him with one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulder, his head resting on Beka's warm chest, "you are part shapeshifter, water from the Sacred lakes lessens the pain of the transformation."
"Beka!" Yura buried his head into Beka's shoulder, he heard a ripping sound as his 'hands' attempted to grip onto his friend's shoulder, he had forgotten he had claws. His arm was covered in snow like fur with black stripes. Am I a tiger? From his periphery of his eyes he could still see his own blonde locks. Suddenly he felt self conscious...I must be hideous, stuck in the halfway form..."don't look at me...and sorry if I hurt you," he realized that Beka was bleeding from the warm trickle down his claws through the ripped black fabric of Beka's tunic.
Otabek shook his head, "You look magnificent, your Highness," he broke into one of his rare smiles.
"Your Highness?" Yura gazed up at him, burying the side of his cheek into his strong chest, listening to the deep rumbling of his heart. He felt home.
"I choose to follow you, Yuratchka Plisetsky, as the demon you set free," Beka tucked his golden locks behind his ear, his touch sent shivers through Yura's body, "I didn't believe there was hope amongst mages, I thought the war would never end until either the mages or the demons perished...until I met you."
Yura wished that Beka would always smile like this, carefree, while holding him close. He clumsily wiped his eyes, "tell a soul you saw me cry, I'll kick your- " heat crept up his face.
"I saw nothing," Otabek stroked his hair with affection stopping him in mid sentence. His touch soft, sending tingles down Yura's spine. Yura gazed down at his hands, they were no longer paws but back to human hands as Beka slid a band studded with black beads around his wrist.
"What's this, the Mage manacles?" Yura watched him out of the corner of his eyes, half sarcastic.
"No, this will suppress the transformation, until you learn to control your powers. No, we do not sink that low." Beka played with one of the dark beads and teased him.
"You owe me explanations," Yura pouted, as the splitting headache dulled. He wiggles out of Beka's arm as his feet touched the water that submerged him down to his waist. He then realized how long his friend must have held him for.
"Ask away," Otabek flashed him a brilliant smile, showing Yura a new side of him.
"Show me your true form," Yura glanced at him through his curtain of wet golden locks. Yura liked him better free.
"As you wish," Beka bowed, then there was a snapping sound, followed by waves disburbing pristine water.
Yura's lips parted as a magnificent centaur stood before him. Otabek's face was the same. Water drops glistened from the sun as they rolled down from his sculpted body. Yura blushed and turned away.
"This was my most recent form. My head is still hurting from the riddles those centaurs made me solve before they'd let me see that damn sword," his dark eyebrows furled and unfurled. He looked like he was in pain from reliving cringe worthy memories, he paused and faced Yura, "What else do you want me to be?" A few strands of his dark locks swept before his dark eyes.
"What?"
"I can be anything you want me to be," Wind swept Otabek's hair sideways, Yura, I am a Universal."
"Fine, a dragon," Yura crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. A Universal was the rarest form of shapeshifter. Some say they were the descendant of the Greater Demons themselves.
Splash!
Yura shielded his with both arms in front of him, then he clutched his chest, his heart racing, "fuck...Beka, you are amazing!"
A dark dragon stretched his leathery wings towards the sky, then folded them again as he curved his tail around his King and splashed water on him playfully. Though menacing, Yura couldn't help but pick up a hint of a smile behind Otabek's black irises.
"Show me what I'm suppose to look like," Yura demanded.
With a snapping sound, a white tiger with green eyes and black stripes stood before him.
Otabek in his tiger form leapt into the water, picked him up by his collar, like the way mother tigers carried their cubs and left him lying on his back on the grass. The tiger nuzzled his neck and licked his face with affection, "Beka, that tickles," laughter escaped Yura's throat, "will you teach me how to be a shapeshifter?"
Otabek changed back to his human form, his faced hovered close to Yura's while his hands pinned his friend to the ground, "yes Master." He teased Yura from the previous chapter of their lives. His face flushed as he realized how closed their lips were.
Otabek jumped off him, "sorry..."
Yura wished he didn't.
He thought he saw a hint of red on his friend's cheeks, he didn't know the stoic demon who hardly ever smiled could look like that. His heart wouldn't stop fluttering. He wondered if Beka knew what he did in the rain as he felt heat rising onto his own pale cheeks.
"Beka what took you so long," Yura laid into the grass, resting his head on one arm turning towards his friend while watching the clouds past by, trying to make sense of their shapes.
"I went to get you this," Otabek picked up a sword from ten feet away.
Yura sat up as he glanced at the white sheath the same colour as moonlight.
"'To be wielded by one who stood with one foot in the darkness and one foot in the light'," Otabek read the inscription on the sheath written in the demons' ancient language.
Yura closed his hand around its pale grip and unsheathed the sword, the sunlight reflecting from its blade making him squint. Its weight heavy, carvings of runes covered its blade interspersed with the phases of the moon.
It felt like any other sword.
Yura sheathed it again and sighed, "I don't think it's meant for me."
Otabek shrugged, "I guess we would have to search for its master next." He swung the Sword of the Half Moon around his back as he stretched out a hand to help pull his friend up. He has a sickening look on his face, before Yura asked what was wrong, he placed his palm over his face, "I still have nightmare from conversations with the centaurs, they made me solve riddles to answer the simplest questions. They...would never get anything done. I wasn't going to stick around for them to discover that I was an Universal and an impostor. Those creatures are impossible...their princess seemed to be...fond of me, she...let me escape..."
Yura beamed at him with longing mixed with pride, "Beka, let's go home," Yura pulled himself up with Beka's hand.
When he entered the city walls, he had a white sword on his back and a sleeping cat curled up against his chest.
Author's notes:
I am grateful that I took a break from writing this story in order to plan a few things, now I feel refreshed & inspired to continue.
There you go, Otabek's true form.
I love writing Chris, the mysterious, wise and timeless...he is becoming my favourite character in this story after Yuuri.
Brace yourself for the next chapter (enough of sitting, talking, and planning), now the action begins.
Chapter 11: Starfire
"Victor, I command you to personally burn these demon loving traitors before the crowd."
re: reviews:
Guest: I appreciate the constructive criticism! I know I intentionally repeated some explanations because this story gets complicated, but maybe I overdid it. Thank you for leaving your kind words.
AiViCi: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, this story isn't ending yet, don't worry. Thanks for your support, as always.
: aww sorry that I made you cry, hope it was crying in a good way. Thanks so much for your kind words!
SomeRandomPerson: Yura isn't going to replace Victor's dad, Victor's dad isn't the king but the equivalent of his right hand man sort of speak. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Cuckooo: Here you go, Otabek's true form. That's a good question, Yuuri is the demon prince, but he hasn't officially been coronated yet. He thought the whole idea of power being passed down by blood was archaic, and he actually had no intention to stay in a position of power as soon as this war ends.
MissMJS: lol maybe I do like getting caught in the rain haha. I contemplated putting the tag "sex outside" when I was uploading this story on AO3...