Memories of Sand

by ElisiansBane

Wolfram has spent his entire life in poverty, living hand to mouth, using whatever means to survive. He thinks this is his lot in life but a visit from a raven haired man in glasses changes everything and he realizes it was all a lie.

10. Chapter 10

Memories of Sand Chapter 10

Thanks everyone for the reviews and support as I try to finish this damn thing.

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Memories of Sand Chapter 10 - To Return

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"He's stable…"

Conrad and Gwendal visibly relaxed at Saralegui's words. The human king stood up from his spot at Yuuri's side and regarded the two men. Beneath the trained calmness of seasoned soldiers, Saralegui could see the worry in their eyes. Weller was gripping the hilt of his ever-present sword until his knuckles were white and Voltaire's jaw was locked tight with furrowed brows.

"What about your spell?" Voltaire said urgently. "Can you still cast it?"

Saralegui glanced at Yuuri's ghost white, ice cold face. His fiance had fallen into a deep coma, just teetering on the verge of death. One mistake, one misjudgment, and Yuuri would be lost. By giving Yuuri a shock of Saralegui's pure magic, Saralegui was able to save the demon king from falling over that cliff into oblivion. Now Yuuri lay in a suspended state of being, his heart and breath were undetectable to the naked eye. Yuuri needed the vector spell removed and his energy restored otherwise he would die before sunrise.

Saralegui feared that Yuuri was too weak to transfer the spell to Voltaire. That damned sage had nearly destroyed all his work! They had weakened the spell, but in his tug of war with the sage's magic to preserve the vector spell, they had inadvertently drained Yuuri's life force to the last drop. Now it was unclear that it would be strong enough to handle the transference of the spell.

"King Saralegui?" Weller pressed when Saralegui failed to answer right away.

Saralegui laid a finger on Yuuri's throat and pressed down to feel the weak pulse. He could just barely feel Yuuri's energy flickering inside the demon king.

It would be horribly risky. Saralegui didn't like it when there was no guarantee that he would get what he wanted in the end. But either way, Yuuri was likely to die and if that was the case, then Saralegui would rather risk transferring the spell than simply let Yuuri pass.

"My beautiful demon king," Saralegui whispered, stroking Yuuri's face. The last thing he wanted was to lose his lover. Of all the things he had obtained through this spell, Yuuri was his most prized possession. He had come to truly value Yuuri. Not even he was free from Yuuri's child-like charm or his exotic beauty. He feared losing Yuuri more so than Shin Makoku. But he would take the risk.

Saralegui turned his attention to Yuuri's retainers. Saralegui replied grimly. "It can still be cast," he said. "But the longer the king is left in this state, the less of a chance he has of surviving." Yuuri might have just enough energy to go through with the spell if Saralegui did it perfectly.

"What do we do?" Weller demanded, looking down at his unconscious king.

"We go through with the spell," Saralegui stated with finality. He turned to Voltaire. "Lord Voltaire, if you are still willing to use your own magic to save Yuuri then we can go through with this. It is only that this has become much more delicate and dangerous."

"If it will save his Majesty, then so be it," Voltaire said without hesitation, his intense gaze fixed on Yuuri's face.

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. The retainers' blind loyalty was proving very useful. "It could prove dangerous for you, Lord Voltaire. The spell will take a large toll on your own magic, which could have serious consequences."

The two lords looked at each other in some silent exchange. Saralegui watched Weller give Voltaire a sad, resolute nod and they both turned back to him.

"His Majesty's well-being means more than anyone else's," Voltaire answered quietly, as Weller looked on sadly. "Whatever it takes. If you can promise that this will save his life, then I - we - will do whatever is necessary."

Saralegui nodded. "Very well. Berias!"

Berias moved forward from where he had been standing and watching in the corner. "Take Lord Voltaire and Lord Weller to the throne room. Make sure they are the only ones there. I will make the preparations."

"Yes, your Majesty," Berias replied and moved to leave the room with Weller and Voltaire following behind him.

When he was alone, Saralegui turned to speak one last time to his dying vector.

"You are mine," he whispered. "And I will let you die before I allow anyone to take you from me."

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Wolfram stared at the stone wall before him. The cell they put him in reminded him too much of his torture and he was desperate to keep his mind off of it. The guards had thrown him and Murata into two cells opposite each other. They were both shackled to long iron chains fastened to the floor. They were trapped.

Wolfram's mind went back to Yuuri. The image of Yuuri going limp in his arms and his eyes rolling back into his head kept replaying over and over again in his mind. He had felt Yuuri's life go out. His magic felt Yuuri's own go out like a small candle flame. He didn't want to believe that he had watched his fiance die in his arms, but he couldn't quite convince himself otherwise.

He looked at Murata, who sat behind the iron bars, eyes closed in some weird meditation. Wolfram had never fully understood the great sage. He was such an aloof and mysterious man, always thinking ahead of others and knowing more than he let on. Wolfram didn't want to believe that his Grace was just as stumped as he was.

"Is he dead?"

Murata slowly opened his eyes at Wolfram's strained whisper. "He will be…"

"Please tell me you have thought of something!" Wolfram pressed, gripping the iron bars, chains grinding against the floor behind him. "I can pick the locks or-or something!"

Murata sat up straighter, fixing Wolfram with a steady gaze. "With what?" he asked gently. "They stripped us of everything but our clothes."

"You're the Daikenja!" Wolfram whispered heatedly, trying not to alert the guards. "You're supposed to be all-knowing!"

"I prefer the term 'most-knowing'," Murata replied dryly despite the piercing gaze Wolfram was giving him.

"You can't just give up!" Wolfram protested, the chains rattling with each word. "Yuuri and the entire kingdom are in danger of that mad king!"

"Yes, they are," Murata said with a sigh, returning to looking off into the distance at something Wolfram couldn't comprehend. After a moment, he looked back at the prince. "Lord Bielefeld….if it came down to it. Would you choose Yuuri or Shin Makoku?"

"What?" Wolfram sat back in surprise.

"It is unlikely that Yuuri will survive this," Murata said gravely. "I wanted - my goal was always to save Yuuri and the kingdom, do not doubt that. But the condition he's in now….It's unlikely that even if we tried, it still wouldn't be enough to save him….we have an entire kingdom at stake and Yuuri likely won't survive no matter what choice we make. So it is better to save the kingdom instead."

"Yuuri is our king!" Wolfram argued. "He is Shin Makoku! We can't just let him die like that! I won't let him die as Saralegui's slave!"

"There might not be any other choice," Murata said firmly, though sympathetic.

There had to be another way! Wolfram just couldn't toss Yuuri's life away like that. If there was a chance, no matter how small, that Yuuri could be saved, Wolfram would do anything to make it happen. He wouldn't give up. His honor as a prince and the king's fiance wouldn't let him.

"He recognized me," Wolfram said, recalling the look of recognition Yuuri gave him before he passed out. "He said my name, even though he didn't know it! He knew who I was! The spell is already broken, it just needs one more push! We need to find him and break it for good!"

"We need to escape from here first," Murata pointed out.

Wolfram glanced around the dungeon vainly for anything that could be used to break their locks. His handcuffs were only long enough to let him stand and pace a few steps around his cell. Maybe he could….

The door to the dungeon swinging open and slamming the wall startled the two men. They both moved towards the back of their cells, not wanting to give any indication that they were conspiring.

"I should've specified that I wanted you both in separate sections of the dungeon," Saralegui said annoyed when he came to stand between the two cells. He stared at them with a gaze that barely contained his disdain. Saralegui turned his gaze to Murata with a sneer.

"I've had a manhunt going for you for years. How did you escape?!"

Murata gave a nonchalant shrug. "Need better manhunters…"

Saralegui glared. "What spell were you using?"

"I was simply unraveling your spell to save the king's life and then you interrupted me," Murata replied evenly, which seemed to agitate Saralegui further.

"You nearly killed him! You've nearly ruined everything!" Saralegui shouted.

"There's nothing I did that made it worse." Murata countered. "You and I know that spell will kill him. Go ahead and find a new vector, but the damage is done. You'll lose him anyway."

"Is Yuuri alive?"

Saralegui spun around to face Wolfram, he looked as if he had forgotten the demon prince was even there. His surprise hardened into his usual icy glare that Wolfram met steadily.

"Yes, but not for long….They told me you were dead," He said coldly. "They said your body was a torn pile of skin and bones. They threw you out with the other garbage." He walked slowly until he was a mere inch away from the bars that separated them. Arms crossed and hips cocked to the side, Saralegui looked Wolfram up and down, taking in the ratty clothes, tangled hair, and scars. "But apparently they didn't bother to check," he said with disgust. "I should've known better."

"Why did you do this to me?" Wolfram demanded, chains rattling as he gripped the bars and met Saralegui's gaze head on. "Why didn't you kill me or enslave me?"

Saralegui averted his gaze, looking Wolfram up and down, deep in thought before he finally answered. "I hated you the moment you stepped off that ship behind the Demon King." he said quietly. "You who dared to challenge me. Your very existence and claim to the king mocked me! The fact that someone so inferior could think he was entitled to be the consort to the demon king, when really you're hardly qualified to be the king's whore, was disgusting."

Wolfram recoiled slightly, but kept his grip on the bars. He knew that he and Saralegui had never gotten along from the moment they met. He had sensed the unspoken jealousy and rivalry between them. Both prodigies of their houses and enamored with the most powerful monarch to rule in centuries - they were both destined to despise each other. He knew Saralegui lusted for Yuuri and the power and wealth that came with him. It had been the source of many an argument between him and the young king when Yuuri refused to see the truth of Saralegui's nature. He knew what Saralegui spoke of, he just didn't know it was to this extent. It angered him.

"I'm more qualified than you ever were!" He shot back. "You are delusional if you think Yuuri would have ever wanted you! He sure as hell wouldn't want you now!"

"No one should challenge me!" Saralegui snarled, grabbing the bars and leaning in. "You least of all! A spoiled, stupid little cunt has no place in my perfect world! King Yuuri is meant to be mine! This kingdom is meant to be mine! You dared to stand in the way of what was rightfully mine and I won't let you get away with it!"

Wolfram was aghast. "You are...insane."

Saralegui started to retort, but suddenly went quiet as if noticing something. "You are dying…"

Wolfram froze.

Coming to some kind of realization, Saralegui's glare turned to a sinister smirk. "You have the stench of disease around you. Like those women of the night." He leaned in just inches from Wolfram's face. "I can see it now….You on the streets, giving yourself to anyone willing to pay. It seems my men showed you your true nature." Saralegui a short huff of a dark laugh. "Your rotten blood will poison you from the inside. First the rash and then, you'll wither into nothing. The decay will attack your brain and slowly drive you mad. You'll be nothing more than a drooling, stinking idiot lying in his own filth when you finally reach your last days. I believe Yuuri would choose me rather than a diseased whore-"

Saralegui cut himself off with a gasp when Wolfram's hand lashed out and grabbed him by a tendril of long hair that was foolishly hanging over his shoulder. Saralegui's face slammed into the bars. Gold eyes met green ones.

"The only idiot is you," Wolfram hissed, teeth bared. "If you have any sense, you would kill me now because I will never stop trying to kill you." Wolfram further dug his fingers into Saralegui's hair, gripping him by the roots. "No one and no disease will stop me! It will come back from the dead to torment you and make you pay for what you've done to me!"

Recovering from the shock, Saralegui fought Wolfram's grip. He violently yanked himself away from Wolfram, who easily let go. He glared at the demon prince, hair and eyes wild with unhindered rage.

"You are nothing!" Saralegui growled. "I left you to rot! Your own family let you be beaten and forced to sell yourself because you are nothing. They forgot you! They forgot what wasn't important!"

"Because you made them!" Wolfram shouted back. "Because that's the only way you could win. Because your entire existence is based on deception. They didn't forget anything and you know it! They will only forget for as long as you can keep up the facade. You will fail because you can't deceive everyone forever!"

"You underestimate me," Saralegui said. "That's why you're here in a cell to wait until I have Yuuri write the proclamation for your execution!"

"You underestimate me," Wolfram said with firm resolution. "And that's why you'll be the headless one in the end."

Saralegui started to respond, but they were interrupted when a guard entered somewhat timidly thanks to the hostility emanating from the two men. "Your majesty….Lord Weller and Lord Voltaire wish to hurry. King Yuuri's condition is worsening."

Swearing under his breath, Saralegui turned to storm past the guard. "I'm ready. I wanted to confront these criminals myself and see how to undo their meddling."

Saralegui paused just in front of the exit and turned ot Murata and Wolfram. "You will both stay here. When I am done, I will have you both executed in the most horrid way possible with your friends and family cheering on."

Saralegui emphasized his statement with a hard slam of the door that echoed throughout the dim dungeons. The silence left behind hung around them like a heavy veil. Neither of them moved until it was certain they were alone.

Murata was the first to break the silence. "That went well…"

Wolfram held up Saralegui's metal hairpin with a grin. "It did…"

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Murata couldn't help but grin with pride. "You are a joy to work with!"

"Thanks," Wolfram muttered as he immediately started to pick the lock on his shackles with the hairpin.

"Careful," Murata warned, glancing at the door that Saralegui exited through.

As he watched Wolfram pick at the locks, Murata reached out to carefully feel the spiritual realm. He couldn't sense any activity yet, but every minute counted. He tried to reach out to Shinou, a part of him hoping that he could still communicate with the great king despite their distance. It was a small chance. He thought he could feel Shinou's signature energy just beyond his reach, but still too far to communicate. Giving up for the time being, he turned his attention to Wolfram. Though he knew the prince would hate him for this, he was still grateful for Wolfram's thievery skills.

Wolfram inserted the hairpin into the keyhole to trip the mechanism. He cursed under his breath as he wiggled the pin around the different components, trying to find that perfect pressure point that would release the lock. He gave a triumphant humph when he heard the telltale crack and the release of the cuff around his left wrist. He quickly made work of the right cuff and let the shackles gently fall to the ground to avoid alerting the guards.

All the while, Murata watched with eager eyes and occasionally glancing towards the door to make sure they weren't caught.

Wolfram gripped the bars of the cell. Even as emaciated as he was, they were still too close together to slip through. He looked down at the ground in contemplation. Murata watched in silence - to not interrupt the prince's deep concentration and in curiosity as to what this young demon lord would do at such a block.

Murata watched Wolfram come to some silent resolution and grip the bars of his cell with tightly closed eyes. Murata felt the air between them start to slowly heat up as Wolfram clenched his teeth as he forced his fire magic to work.

Beads of sweat soon trickled down Wolfram's temples, his breath hissing through gritted teeth became the only sound echoing throughout the dungeon hall.

"Easy now," Murata mouthed worriedly, watching his friend's face go pale as he forced every ounce of will into his fire.

Soon, the iron bars began to glow a dull orange underneath Wolfram's bare palms and hissed from the moisture in the air. Murata wiped his own sweat from the increased heat. Wolfram was openly panting now, but he didn't falter. He only tightened his grip more when he saw it was working.

Within minutes, the orange-hot bars bowed to Wolfram's grip, making a space just big enough for him to slip through. With ease, he stepped through the space with sweat dripping down his face and neck and sizzling when it hit the still-hot bars. Wolfram took a few steps beyond his ruined cell and stumbled.

"Are you alright? Don't push yourself too far," Murata whispered.

Wolfram didn't answer, he just gave a dull nod and caught his breath before turning his focus on Murata's own bars.

"Stand back," Wolfram wheezed. "They'll be too hot for you."

"Gotcha," Murata said, backing up to give him space. "Can you?..."

"I have to," Wolfram said resolutely through the sweat and fatigue that marred his face.

"The fact that you can use your magic like that and here of all places," Murata said in wonder. "You're probably the only person who superseded my expectations."

"Like everyone, your expectations were low to begin with," Wolfram muttered, falling into the trance needed to summon his fire magic to soften the metal.

Murata said nothing, but continued to watch Wolfram. Yes, he didn't think much of Shinou's descendent other than his gorgeous looks and entitled attitude. But over the years, he saw Lord Bielefeld to be something far more complex than the majority were willing to give him credit for.

"Don't hurt yourself," Murata warned when he saw Wolfram falter.

"I don't care if I get hurt," Wolfram said as he began to pull the hot iron apart to step in. "Yuuri needs us!"

Murata said nothing else when Wolfram stumbled into his own cell and immediately went to work picking the locks of Murata's shackles. The entire time, Murata watched Wolfram do his work while he stood ready to assist in any way. Wolfram was openly panting at this point, his face soaked with sweat, hands and legs shaking, his heartbeat racing, face pale. Wolfram, as if it were the most obvious thing to do, had defied his physiology of a full-blooded demon. Wolfram's was an iron will to behold.

"You think Saralegui will notice my magic?" Wolfram's question broke Murata out of his thoughts.

Murata gave a small half-shrug. "Saralegui can sense when the vector spell is tampered with, but I don't know for individual magic users. Perhaps those under the spell, but I'm not sure about you."

Wolfram gave an angered hiss. "Then we need to move, just in case."

Murata nodded, moving quietly towards the exit. Their cells opened into a narrow passageway with only a single exit that was blocked by the iron door. No doubt there were guards posted on the opposite side. Murata watched Wolfram feel the edges of the door, looking for a way to pick it from the inside. Wolfram cursed when it was apparent the door could only be opened from the other side.

"We need them to open it for us," Murata muttered. He moved to the door as Wolfram stepped aside expectantly. Murata glanced back at him. "As soon as they open the door, drag them in and stop them from raising the alarm." With Wolfram's curt nod, Murata turned back to the door and started to kick it as hard as possible.

"Hey jackasses!" he shouted through the door and to Wolfram's shock. "We escaped! You need to catch us again!"

Two guards swung open the door and stormed in to see a casual Murata standing before them.

"What the-" one of them started, but was cut off when, using skills honed over years, Wolfram pickpocketed his dagger while hiding off to the side in the shadows and shoved him hard into Murata. The sage caught the surprised man and twisted his arms behind his back and pinned him to the ground in a single movement. The second guard barely had time to react before almost tripping over his companion. His falter cost him though as he was also tripped and fell to the ground and found his friend's dagger pressed into his throat just as his hand tried to reach the hilt of his sword.

"Be quiet!" Wolfram hissed, letting the dagger bite into his skin.

The first guard tried to struggle, but Murata acted quickly, took his own dagger and pressed it to his throat as well. "Make a peep and neither of you will live."

"Damned buggers!" Wolfram's captive growled, trying to escape but was rewarded with a hard hit to the back of the neck with the hilt of the dagger. The now-unconscious guard fell into a heap and was quickly joined by his companion.

"Dungeon guards are always glorified goons," Murata said as they took the guards' swords and continued their escape.

Wolfram snorted in amusement. "You don't need skill to watch imprisoned men…"

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Conrad watched Saralegui put the final details on the spell circle. It was an elaborate arcane symbol with various runes and symbols meant to help direct the magic from his older brother and into his godson.

The normally calm swordsman kept pacing back and forth, watching over Gwendal, who lay within the circle, stoic face staring up into the ceiling as he waited for further instruction.

"How are you feeling?' Conrad asked Gwendal.

Gwendal took a deep breath. "Fine. I just want this to work."

"The esoteric stones?" Conrad pressed.

Gwendal sighed. "I feel heavy and light-headed….tired...but I'm functional. I'll be happy to be away from these damned human lands."

Conrad nodded, while Gwendal could manage for a while in human lands, using his magic or staying too long made him increasingly weak. The sooner this was over, the better.

Conrad glanced at the unconscious Yuuri. Saralegui was painting a cross on Yuuri's forehead, like the one he had just put on Gwendal, mumbling in his native language. Saralegui's movements were clinical and efficient. He positioned Yuuri so that he and Gwendal laid head to head with their bodies laid out flat on the marble floor.

Conrad bit the inside of his lip as he looked on his godson and brother. He fought the growing anxiety as he tried to hope for the best and that they would somehow save Yuuri from this mysterious ailment.

It didn't make sense! Yuuri was perfectly healthy until a few days ago. Conrad thought back to Yuuri's complaints of constant headaches. Conrad knew Yuuri would often get headaches when stressed or not sleeping enough. He was definitely stressed and tired with the wedding preparations and ruling the kingdom, so he didn't think it unusual for Yuuri to get them. Though they were more frequent and intense, he honestly thought that once the wedding was over and Yuuri could share the burden with his new consort, they would eventually go away. For Yuuri to just sputter out like this was unheard of.

His mind wandered to earlier. He cursed himself for not seeing that William and his mysterious friend were a threat. Conrad thought himself to be a keen observer of men, but he didn't think much of the two servants when they volunteered to go on this trip. He certainly didn't find anything threatening about William, who had risked injury to save Greta. William becoming seasick certainly made him seem nonthreatening. Was that all part of their plan?

No, there was no way they could've planned everything that perfectly. And yet...something was off. He should have questioned their presence more, looked into their backgrounds more. Especially William.

William….Conrad felt even more off about the strange servant. From the moment he met him, Conrad could sense something about the younger man. There was an odd familiarity about him that Conrad couldn't quite place. It itched at the back of his mind until duty and other interests distracted him. Conrad would have sworn he had seen him somewhere before. He felt oddly fascinated by William in a way that indicated William and he had met before, but only the gods knew where.

And then now...catching William and his friend casting some weird spell over Yuuri just added to the confusion. Their behavior didn't make sense. When the guards dragged William away, he tried to break free, his eyes never left Yuuri, and he shouted 'no' as he felt Yuuri's neck for a pulse. Conrad could hear the unexpected fear and desperation in his voice as he shouted the young king's name while being dragged away in chains. Conrad could hear William's voice echo down the hall as he fell to kneel at Yuuri's side. "Don't let him die!"

Conrad frowned. If they were assassins as Saralegui claimed, then why would William act so worried for Yuuri's life? Something wasn't adding up.

"Yuuri will be fine, Conrad," Gwendal's calm voice broke Conrad out of his thoughts.

"I hope so," Conrad said quietly and then looked to see where Saralegui was. The human king was talking to the guards, instructing them to wait outside the throne room and not let anyone in.

Something about Saralegui had been bothering Conrad. He didn't know why, but like being drawn to William, he suddenly found himself feeling suspicious towards Saralegui. Though, the king had done nothing until that point to warrant his distrust. Conrad had always found Saralegui to be aloof and a bit cold compared to Yuuri, but since he had earned Yuuri's love, Conrad felt he had to accept him. But now….Conrad had watched Saralegui's behavior become more distant and secretive. There was something about the way the king carried himself that made Conrad feel as if he was hiding something.

Conrad looked to his brother. "Gwendal…something isn't right...all this...it's not adding up."

Gwendal followed Conrad's gaze to where Saralegui was standing, still talking to his own personal guard, Berias. "Yes…" he said knowingly. "But what can we do? Yuuri's life is on the line and this is the only way for sure to save him."

"Something's not right," Conrad whispered insistently.

Gwendal met his gaze. "No, it isn't…" he conceded.

"We must being the spell now," Saralegui said as he approached the men. "The guards will be stationed outside for protection. Lord Weller, you and Berias will stand over there and keep watch."

Conrad cast one final glance at Gwendal, who nodded for him to join Berias near the wall.

"Protect the king," he said with finality.

Protect the king. That was Conrad's only priority. His doubts could come later. He took his place beside the ever-silent Berias and waited for whatever may come.

"I am going to use my magic to transfer some of Lord Voltaire's magical energy to Yuuri," Saralegui explained as he took his place to stand beside the circle where Gwendal and Yuuri lay. "Yuuri's life force is too weak to support him. This will give him enough energy to survive and allow his own magic to recover." He paused and continued in a grave tone. "This could be dangerous for you, Lord Voltaire and there's no guarantee it will work. The reason for Yuuri's condition is mysterious and without knowing exactly what those assassins did, I can only guess how to undo the damage."

If Gwendal was nervous, his stoic mask hid it perfectly. "Whatever will save the king must be done."

Saralegui glanced to Conrad who nodded his agreement. "Very well," he said, kneeling down and placing one hand on Gwendal and Yuuri's foreheads. "Let us begin…"

The air in the room immediately become suffocating as the energy shifted with the start of Saralegui's barely audible incantations.

Conrad could only grip his sword and pray that his brother and king survived.

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None of the lords were aware of the commotion going on elsewhere in the palace.

Murata and Wolfram made their way through the unusually quiet halls of the lower levels of the castle. They had managed to hide from the several guard pairs that patrolled the halls. The halls were oddly absent of servants and other castle inhabitants.

"Where is everyone?" Wolfram whispered at last.

"They must be on lockdown," Murata guessed. "I doubt they want people just wandering about while Saralegui recasts the spell. Follow me, Yuuri is this way."

"How do you know?" Wolfram had to ask falling into step behind the sage.

"I can sense the spell's aura," Murata said. "...and Voltaire's."

Wolfram's stomach sank. His brother was a powerful earth wielder. Saralegui must be…

"Lord Weller and Berias must be there as well," Murata continued. "We'll have to get between them if we're to get to Yuuri."

Wolfram paled at facing his brother in a fight. "How do we do that?"

"The spell is weak enough that we could try to jog your brothers' memories," Murata suggested. "Cast doubt on them. Get them to remember that you're their brother."

"Is there a way you can break the spell on them like you did to me?" Wolfram asked.

Murata gave a shrug. "Maybe. It depends on how things go. Time is precious."

Realizing that was the best answer he would get, Wolfram nodded.

"It's our best bet," Murata finished and moved on.

They made their towards the throne room. As they drew closer, the number of guards increased until they reached the main foyer. They reached the part of the hallway that intersected the hall that led to the throne room. Just beyond the grand hallway, there stood the huge doors to the throne room guarded by eight heavily armed men standing at bored attention. Murata pulled Wolfram behind a random statue and hid them in the shadows.

"I can feel it…." Murata murmured, peering around the corner to look at the guards.

"Feel what?" Wolfram whispered back.

"The magic is shifting," Murata stared half-lidded, feeling into the abyss. "Saralegui has already started."

"How do we get past them?" There was absolutely no way they could take on eight men...not when he could barely stand.

Murata glanced around. "We need a diversion."

Wolfram scanned the hall where they hid. The hall was lined with giant windows framed by luxurious curtains, and in-between were several oil lamps. The hall they currently hid in continued to the other side of the palace beyond where it connected to the throne room hall making a "T" shape. He peered into the dim light down the hall and saw more curtains and oil lamps lining the walls. If he could…

Wolfram bit back the wave of dizziness. He couldn't let the presence of the esoteric stones affect him. His body felt like stones were tied to his arms and legs and an invisible hand clenched his throat from the inside. He was fine until he used his magic to escape the dungeons and made the symptoms worse. He yelled at himself internally to get it together as he couldn't become weak now. He could pass out like an idiot after they saved Yuuri.

Pressing his lips together in determined concentration, Wolfram held out his hand, fingers curled as if he were about to snap his fingers. He focused his energy on a single unlit lamp several feet down the hall and in the opposite direction of where they hid.

"Come on," he mumbled irritably as Murata watched and quickly caught onto what he was doing. The sage said nothing but watched the guards, glancing back at Wolfram's progress and bracing himself for what was to come.

It was like pushing a heavy rock or sludging through thick mud. Wolfram grimaced as he forced his magic to course through his body, into the points of his fingers, and finally into the lamp. Wolfram called into the spirit realm over miles and miles of foreign land to the spirits of fire and they struggled to answer him. He directed the heat to the bottom of the round lamp where it was mounted on the wall. He forced the pyrokinetic energy into the fluid, causing it to rapidly heat up. The oil began to smoke, blue wisps floating innocently on the draft and towards the waiting guards. Before long, the distinct smell filled the hallways.

"Is..something burning?" they heard one guard ask.

"Smells like lamp oil," one said curiously.

'Hotter!' Wolfram sent to the fire spirits.

The lamp began to crack and oil leaked out onto the ground with a sizzle. The smoke increased to a thick cloud. Wolfram gave it one more push and the glass exploded into a thousand pieces as inflamed oil splashed across the carpet and promptly consumed everything in flames, casting the opposite hall in orange light.

The response was immediate. "What was that?" one guard yelled as they ran to where they heard the explosion. The other guard swore. "Damn! Fire!" Four of the eight guards ran to put out the flames, none noticing the two men crouched behind the statue just yards away from them.

Not waiting, Wolfram focused on another lamp further down the hall. Within seconds, it too became so hot that the glass exploded, catching everything around it on fire. He did it with another lamp and then another. Six of the guards were trying to contain the flames.

Jumping from behind their hiding spot, Wolfram grabbed an oil lamp on their side and, heating it between his hands, threw it at the remaining two guards. The glass shrapnel made tinkling noises against their armor as they recoiled from the hot shards hitting their exposed faces. They didn't have time to recover before a second glass bomb exploded above them, raining burning oil that sizzled on their exposed skin. The guards recoiled in pain and shock, allowing enough of a window for the two to run past.

Wolfram and Murata acted with deadly speed. Murata kicked in the door to the throne room, followed by Wolfram, both with weapons drawn.

Everything happened in rapid succession.

The first ones to notice them were Conrad and Berias. The men immediately drew their swords and stepped between them and the others. Beyond the two men, the pale blue swirls of magical energy enveloped Saralegui, Gwendal, and Yuuri. The latter two lay deep in the trances of the spell while Saralegui broke his concentration long enough to send them a look of shock and animosity.

"How did you escape?" Conrad demanded, brandishing his sword at them.

"Kill them!" they heard Berias yell from behind Conrad.

Conrad and Berias rushed them together. While Wolfram was a trained soldier and Murata had some skill with the sword, they would be no match for two master swordsmen. Wolfram, being the only one capable of facing Conrad, managed to block his attack while Murata diverted Berias' swing and ran around him to get to Yuuri.

"Make him remember!" Murata shouted over his shoulder before barely parrying against Berias.

The objective was to get between them and Yuuri. Wolfram steeled himself against his brother. He barely managed to deflect several blows, struggling to keep his footing against Conrad's inhuman speed. Wolfram was brought back to when Conrad and he would spar. The only times he ever won was when Conrad deliberately let him win, much to his chagrin.

Wolfram felt the impact of Conrad's sword against his own ring through his forearm. He was on the defensive as Conrad rained strike after strike, pushing Wolfram further away from Yuuri. Wolfram moved to the side, trying to turn them around and put himself between Conrad and Yuuri. If he could back away and then make a wide berth around the spell ring then maybe he could get close enough to better help Murata.

Wolfram managed to glance at Murata, who wasn't faring much better. He was clearly struggling against Berias' twin swords. Berias had Murata nearly backed against a near wall, trying to maneuver him into an open position to be stabbed. Murata's back hit the wall as he collided his swords with Berias', pushing against the twin blades to break their hold.

"You will not succeed," Berias' hissed, each word emphasized with the sharp scraps of metal against metal.

Murata was trapped. Any move and Berias would bury his knives in his ribcage. Over Berias' shoulder he could see Saralegui frantically conjuring the spell, hands suspended over the unconscious Yuuri and Gwendal. He and his vectors were engulfed in a yellow glow as the spell transferred from one to the other. Murata could sense the transition nearing completion.

'Damn it,' Murata thought. This was not working. He had to get to Yuuri before the spell was completed. His magic wasn't meant for combat. It was purely spiritual. But he was no match for Saralegui's guard, who had him pinned against a wall. He would have to be fast and take a hit, if he wanted to escape.

Murata braced himself. This would hurt. He looked up in Berias' serpentine gaze. Murata twisted to the right, breaking the sword lock he was stuck in with Berias. Berias quickly recovered from the imbalance and turned in time to bury one of his swords into Murata's right shoulder. The sage swore in pain, but backed away as fast as possible, managing to deflect the second sword from going into his ribcage. When Berias made to stab him, this time in the chest, Murata lunged for him, blocking the blade with his own sword that remained in his left hand and with his right hand, touching Berias' surprised face with his open palm and sending a short jolt of spiritual energy directly into his brain.

Berias immediately went limp, falling back onto the floor with a thump. Not wasting time, Murata ran around him and towards Saralegui. Murata cast a quick glance at Wolfram, who was still fighting against his brother and struggling.

'Hang on,' Murata sent out to the third prince, sending out his spiritual mark to tap into the flow of the vector spell.

Wolfram could feel himself slowing down. Using his fire magic in the presence of the esoteric stones coupled with his failing health had quickly used his sparse stamina. His movements were becoming sloppy and sluggish against Conrad's deadly precision. Wolfram kept trying to lead the fight away from Murata and keep Conrad distracted, while thinking of a way he could restore Conrad's memory.

Wolfram dug deep into his clouded memory to think of anything that only he and Conrad would know. In the panic of the fight, he struggled to think of anything that wasn't already public knowledge or an easy piece of information to obtain.

Conrad swung a wide blow that Wolfram barely blocked. Their swords locked as they faced each other, Conrad trying to break Wolfram's stance and the younger man trying to hold his own despite his rapidly deteriorating strength.

"What do you want?" Conrad's voice cut into his thoughts.

"What?" Wolfram said as he pushed back against Conrad's sword. The soldier suddenly backed away and returned with a series of rapid succession blows that Wolfram barely caught. Conrad continued to rain the strikes until Wolfram lost his balance trying to back away and his sword was knocked from his grip, leaving him defenseless.

But instead of dealing the killing blow, Conrad instead held the sword up to Wolfram's throat, who held his hands up in surrender.

"What do you want?" Conrad repeated, edging the blade closer to show he was serious."What are you after with the king? Tell me before I slit your throat!"

Wolfram had no idea how to respond. Murata's command to restore Conrad's memory echoed in his mind.

"We're trying to save him," Wolfram said quickly when a warning prod urged him on. "Yuuri - and you - have been under a spell for four years. Saralegui tricked all of you!"

Conrad looked at him blankly, before edging closer to Wolfram, who tried to back away from the poised blade. "Do you take me for a fool?" Conrad said angrily.

Wolfram felt the blade cut in his skin and warm trickle of blood down his neck. He tried to think of anything he could say that wouldn't sound like a crazy lie.

"When you were 30 years old, you used to sneak into the kitchens to steal cookies before dinner!' Wolfram blurted out.

Conrad paused. "What?"

Wolfram kept going. "You used to be afraid of horses! You refused to go near them! Your father had to walk next to you when you were learning to ride because you would start screaming if he let go of you!"

The blade continued to cut into his flesh, but Conrad's expression went from angered to stunned.

Images flashed by Wolfram's mind. Memories told to him by his brothers of their childhoods. Conrad shared the story of his fear of horses when Wolfram was also learning to ride and was afraid of the huge stallion that his own father insisted he learn to ride on, because learning on a pony was beneath a Bielefeld heir.

"The horse was a tan gelding!" Wolfram blurted.

"How do you know that?" Conrad spoke in a stunned whisper.

Another memory came to Wolfram. "You have a bunch of freckles on your back that look like a smiling face! Yozak would tease you about it when you went swimming!"

That left Conrad astounded and even more riled. "What kind of sorcerer are you!?"

"I'm your brother! I'm Wolfram!" Wolfram said out of desperation. "I used to follow you everywhere! You were my hero! Then I found out you were human and I thought I hated you. But when Yuuri came, we grew closer again!"

"You're trying to bewitch me!" Conrad accused, but Wolfram thought he could see a small tinge of doubt in his brother's eyes. "What are you?"

Wolfram steeled himself and said quite simply. "I'm your brother."

For a moment, Conrad seemed as if he would slice clean into Wolfram's throat, but he suddenly pulled away and stared at Wolfram with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Wolfram?" came the barely audible whisper.

Before Wolfram could answer, Conrad recoiled and pressed his free hand to press into his right temple as he grimaced at the sudden pain. The sword clanged to the ground as the pain intensified and Conrad nearly bent over in the excruciating pain.

Wolfram whipped around as Murata's rhythmic shout rose above Conrad's choked groan.

Murata stood with hands outstretched and facing Saralegui, whose own incantations fought against Murata's own. The fighting energies intertwined and spun around the room, making the air heavy and electric. Wolfram felt the pressure of the energies like he was being slowly suffocated. His own magic reacted to the violent ebbs and flows of Murata and Saralegui, instinctively bracing itself and him against this new threat.

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If Wolfram felt he was being suffocated, then Murata felt crushed. Where Wolfram felt the ebbs and flows of magic, Murata felt the violent torrents that engulfed him and Saralegui as they fought for dominance.

After he had knocked Berias unconscious, Murata rushed over to Saralegui and Yuuri. He locked eyes for the briefest of moments with the human king and immediately felt the spell amp up its energy. Murata reached out into the spiritual void, frantically searching for the familiar threads of the vector spell. To his relief, he found it unwinding and rewinding itself at Saralegui's command and attaching itself to the life force of Wolfram's eldest brother. Both Gwendal and Yuuri were deep into the hypnosis of the spell, completely unaware of the chaos unfolding around them. Murata could feel Gwendal's own magic and, very faintly, Yuuri's caught in the midst of the spell.

Bracing himself, Murata summoned his magic and began to recite the incantation to undo the spell.

'Get out!' Saralegui's hiss echoed inside his mind.

Murata ignored him, instead his used his magic to undo the work Saralegui had already completed. Like unweaving a tapestry, Murata yanked and pulled at the threads of the vector spell faster than Saralegui could reweave them. Murata focused on the threads already attached to Voltaire, hoping that by freeing the stronger man first, he could focus on saving the already weakened Yuuri. Yuuri's life force was a pitiful spark amidst the bolts of magic. It clung to Yuuri's body in desperation against the opposing forces. Murata would have to be careful.

A violent jolt shot through Murata's spiritual force, forcefully pushing it away. Saralegui's magic violently rebelled against Murata's, shoving it back and blocking it from reaching the spell. This sent an energy wave through the spiritual void, making Voltaire's, Murata's, the spell's, and Yuuri's forces recoil from the shock. Murata was the first to recover, pushing his magic against Saralegui, now focused on directly attacking Saralegui's magic.

Murata felt Saralegui's anger behind the violent twists of his magic. Murata guided his own magic to coil around Saralegui's, attempting to strangle it from all sides. Saralegui countered by expanding rapidly and the shrinking back to slip through the now open space. Murata tightened his grip, creating a rip tide that pulled Saralegui's magic with its force. Murata's energy split in two with the rip tide pulling away at Saralegui's power and the other snaking around to attack the now exposed aura of the spell. Murata heard Saralegui gasp in outrage and manipulate his power to break from the tidal pull. His and Saralegui's powers become an indistinguishable tangle as they fought for domination. They fell into a tug of war with neither giving in nor attacking each other with anything less than brute force.

Murata knew this couldn't go on. In the peripheral of his mind, he could sense the two energies of Voltaire and Yuuri struggling. The vector spell clung even harder to Yuuri to brace itself against the fighting magic. As Murata's magic ripped at the foundation of the spell, it tore away at what was left of Yuuri's life force. Murata went cold with realization that there was no place where the spell ended and Yuuri's life force began.

Murata's realization gave Saralegui an opening. Murata felt the renewed jolt of energy ripple through his own defense and send an electric shock through his body. Murata nearly lost his ground and frantically fought to regain his footing, now on the defense.

'He and this kingdom are mine!' Murata heard Saralegui's sneer over the fighting magic forces. Again, Murata refused to answer his taunt. Instead, he resigned himself to the very outcome he wanted to avoid but still knew was the likeliest reality.

'Forgive me, Wolfram...Yuuri,' and with that silent apology, Murata attacked Saralegui's defending magic and the vector spell with full power.

LIke a giant clawed hand, Murata's magic wrapped around and gripped the vector spell at its roots, moving past the panicked tendrils of energy desperately trying to pull him way. But his magic went uninhibited and with one final pull, it tore the vector spell and Yuuri's very life to shreds.

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As he watched Murata fight Saralegui, ready and anxious, the air became increasingly thick as the two sorcerers battled each other. Wolfram could only stand and watch for any changes, occasionally glancing at the unconscious Conrad laying only a few feet away from him. The currents of magic around him began to dissipate into the air and he felt he could breathe again. He ran over to Murata as the other man staggered back and fell to his knees. Wolfram brandished his sword and immediately stood between Murata and Saralegui.

But Wolfram paused when Saralegui fell to the ground, heaving and shaking much like Murata, with only enough energy to glare at them.

A groan from one of the bodies lying on the ground startled Wolfram. He saw Gwendal sluggishly roll to his side with a grimace as he came to from his hypnosis.

But Wolfram's attention immediately went to Yuuri, who remained disturbingly still on the marble floor. A chill ran down his spine when he didn't sense any life from the young king.

Wolfram didn't hear his sword clatter to the floor as he fell to his knees at Yuuri's side. All calmness quickly dissipating, he pressed two fingers to Yuuri's throat and went cold when he didn't feel even the slightest pulse. He didn't see the rise and fall of Yuuri's chest to show he was still breathing. He placed his palm to Yuuri's forehead and swore he could feel the very heat quickly fading from Yuuri's body.

"Yuuri?" Wolfram's shaking voice tried to call, but there was no answer. "Yuuri!"

Wolfram gathered Yuuri into his arms. The king was limp. "Yuuri! No!"

Wolfram stared at Yuuri's lifeless face. It couldn't be! Not after all he had been through. How hard he had fought! Yuuri couldn't leave him like this!

There had to be something! Yuuri's couldn't just die like this. He wasn't weak. He was the demon king, a living god.

"No…..no…" Wolfram whispered brokenly.

"You killed him...I could've saved him if you hadn't barged in!"

Wolfram glared at Saralegui, who returned the stare as he pushed himself up from where he had fallen. With his glasses lying shattered before him, Saralegui's yellow eyes pierced Wolfram through the messy bangs. Saralegui looked exhausted and disheveled, and vengeful. HIs gaze only softened when he looked at Yuuri's body, showing only the tiniest hint of grief before turning spiteful again at Wolfram.

"You killed him!" Saralegui repeated. "The transfer could've saved him, but you stupid bastards ruined everything!'

Saralegui barely got the last word of his sentence out before he was tackled to the ground by an infuriated demon prince.

"This is your fault!" Wolfram shouted violently, pinning Saralegui to the ground. "You did this! Disgusting little shit!"

Wolfram emphasized each word with a hard punch to Saralegui's face and shoulders. The human king sputtered and tried to turn his head away from the blows, But Wolfram grabbed his hair by the roots and tried to slam his head into the floor.

Saralegui gained an opening between the hits and dragged his nails across Wolfram's cheek. Saralegui grabbed Wolfram's loose tunic and yanked Wolfram off-balance and rolled them over. "Diseased whore!" he hissed back.

The two fell into a primitive brawl, exchanging blows and kicks, trying to overpower the other. While Wolfram had more combat training, both were already exhausted and impaired. Blinded by his fury, Wolfram only thought to beat Saralegui into submission.

Wolfram was suddenly pulled off of Saralegui by Conrad and Murata. Saralegui was left gasping on the floor, hair and eyes wild as Conrad and Murata tried to calm the irascible demon.

"That won't solve anything!" Murata scolded Wolfram.

"I want him dead!" Wolfram hissed.

"We all do!" Murata said. "But this won't bring Yuuri back!"

"I don't care!" Wolfram started to say, but went quiet when a thought finally came to him...a memory.

It was during one of their trips to Earth. Yuuri took him to a baseball game to show him how professionals played. Wolfram didn't care for the game, but he jumped at the chance to spend time alone with his fiance. They were walking to their seats when he noticed an odd contraption attached to one of the huge walls of the stadium.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to it.

"That's called a defibrillator," Yuuri explained. "It's used to restart people's hearts when they stop beating right."

"How?" Wolfram asked, staring at it curiously.

"It uses electricity," Yuuri said and then cringed when he realized he just initiated a long conversation.

"What's electricity?" Wolfram asked on que.

"It's…." Yuuri thought for a moment. "It's like magic. It uses raw magic to jumpstart people's hearts…You remember when I showed you how to jump a car battery? It sort of works like that."

"Let me go!" Wolfram said suddenly, yanking his arms free from Conrad and the sage. "I can save him!" he protested when they tried to stop him.

Wolfram managed to shake them free and he knelt at Yuuri's side again. He quickly unbuttoned Yuuri's shirt and pulled the lapels aside to reveal his bare chest. Wolfram placed one hand over Yuuri's right pectoral and the other over Yuuri's ribcage below his left arm.

"You put your hands there to surround the heart. The idea is to make it beat properly again," he heard Yuuri's voice inside his memory.

Yuuri had explained to him that the heart needs energy to beat. If the energy didn't flow right or there wasn't enough, the heart would stop and the person would die. Yuuri's heart needed more energy to beat again. His life force needed more energy.

Wolfram closed his eyes in concentration, summoning his magic to the surface and channeling through his arms, hands, and then into Yuuri. The telltale heat tingled along his muscles and he directed it into Yuuri's quickly cooling body.

"Come back, Yuuri," he whispered into the abyss. "Don't leave me."

The magic boiled just beneath the skin of his palms and Wolfram sent it into Yuuri like a sharp pulse. Yuuri's body tensed and then relaxed, but there was no sign of life. Undeterred, Wolfram summoned his magic again and forced it into Yuuri, trying to find that final remnant of life and give it the energy it needed.

There was another part….something else he had to do. Yuuri had showed him on the computer. He had to breathe life into Yuuri. Wolfram pressed his lips to Yuuri's and blew air into in his lungs. He rhythmically compressed Yuuri's heart through his ribs, trying not to cringe when he felt the force crack the bones.

"You keep doing that until the person starts breathing on their own again," Yuuri had told him.

After counting to fifty, Wolfram administered his magic again to Yuuri. This time, he swore he could sense something. Just one more!

Wolfram breathed again for Yuuri and compressed his heart fifty more times. He didn't even register Conrad, Murata and Saralegui watching him in rapt attention, all of them waiting in tense anticipation of what miracle Wolfram might grant to save Yuuri.

"Please….please," Wolfram pleaded under his breath.

"...Bielefeld…" he heard Murata start gently.

But Wolfram ignored him. He reached into the spiritual abyss, searching for that small blue magic that belonged only to Yuuri. He kept reaching and searching, calling out to Yuuri's life force in the darkness. He knew it was there! Maybe just one more. He sent an even stronger jolt of pure magical energy into Yuuri.

A sharp gasp, followed by raspy breathing, a weak but determined spark of energy reacted to his own magic. Wolfram had to stop himself from embracing Yuuri when the king finally took those first shallow breaths, still unconscious, but Wolfram felt his own magic locate the final tiny remnant of Yuuri's life force and give it enough energy to renew itself and restore Yuuri.

Murata joined Wolfram's side, looking down in shock. He touched Yuuri's forehead and then his chest, feeling the faint pulse. "You did it….you actually did it…"

He did it. He saved Yuuri.

"We need to escape…" Conrad's urgent tone cut through the heavy silence.

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Author's note:

So many apologies for the long wait! Life happened. If I had my way, I would be an author writing original stories and fanfiction like I wanted as a teen, but life had other plans. Thank you to everyone who has followed, read, and reviewed this story and my others. You're all amazing and I'm grateful that you took the time to read my story.

Wolfram using CPR and using his magic like a defibrillator was a scene I went back and forth on. In so many stories, it's always some true love's kiss or deus ex machina that saves a character that has supposedly died. I had built up Yuuri's impairment in such a way that I felt using some throw away plot point to save him was too obvious. So I went with Wolfram utilizing his understanding of first aid as explained by Yuuri. It could be comical, but I thought it was a nice way to show Wolfram's memories returning, and show him and Yuuri in a very key moment in their relationship. It also created a unique and logical way of saving Yuuri's life. It takes a very loose definition of energy vs. magic vs. life, but I felt it worked out.

Update on Syrena:

I've gotten several messages about when I'll update Syrena. I don't have a better answer other than I don't know. I just completely lost direction on what I wanted to do with the plot. And then life kept happening and it fell further and further to the dark recesses of my mind. I tried focusing on Memories of Sand as I had a desired outcome for that plot while I tried to figure out what to do with Syrena.

As always, thank you for reading my stories and leaving your comments. They mean the world to me and I always look forward to hearing from all of you!

Happy Holidays!

EB