SHAS'S HOUSE SVELERA CAPITAL
Normal POV
A child's cry was heard from the room where Branwen and the others are discussing the demon flute and its missing parts. Branwen immediately ran towards where the commotion was heard from tugging Gwendal along due to the chains that still bound them. Before they could make it pass the door, Gwendal ordered the bride to stay where she was.
"Leave my boy alone! Don't you dare touch him!" Roared the grandfather.
Surrounded by five children, who had thrown him on the dry ground, Jilta was howling from the top of his lungs. His bag had been thrown on the street, from which some vegetables had rolled out. Suddenly, the grandfather fell tumbling to the ground - the kids had brought him down and started fighting ruthlessly for the contents of the bag. This robbery took place openly in public under the most beautiful purple evening sky. The children were ten years old and they were all bigger than Jilta. This had clearly gone too far in Branwen's eyes. She darted off and told the kids off saying that they should not be picking on a kid smaller than them. The children picked the fruit and the bottle of water from the bag and stood up, turned around to leave. Shas crawled over to his grandson.
A boy from the group looked at her and stated that Jilta was much older than they are yet he was still smaller. He argued that why would you have to waste food for someone who isn't even growing. Branwen had no idea how to counter that statement. She could not just say that the reason for Jilta's abnormal growth was because he is half demon. That would only gather him more hatred.
"Even so, he's still smaller than you! Give the bag back right now and leave them alone. And apologize... " She still tried to tell the kids off. Then one of the boys threw something at her. On impulse, she was able to avoid it. But it got to the man behind her. She got tingles on her spine and she gulped. Knowing that the man behind her was clearly not pleased.
Gwendal mused as he watched their queen argue with the little boy. He observed how this young monarch would act in the given situation. He stayed silent behind the queen when she suddenly maneuvered to avoid a flying object that was heading to her causing the object to hit him. Hmm, not a bad reflex he gathered but it didn't stop the irritation that he felt. The boy still tried to argue with their queen; Gwendal's eyes darted to the boy again and the pouch that was clutched on his hands. It was the same money pouch that he had given to the mazoku boy. That had set a switch in his mind that he had to take action already. The time for talks had long passed. Tossed the other child about three yards away from them causing the child to drop the pouch. Then, he bent down and meticulously picked up the scattered coins. "I had said that the boy can keep the change. Not you." He eyed the bullies with a stern look.
"To hell with your money!" the boy cursed. Without standing up, he quickly slipped away from Gwendal. The other children slowly moved backwards to secure the escape route. While mouthing that they don't want money from criminals. Branwen instantly darted her eyes to the now exposed chain link between her and her companion. This is bad. We forgot to hide the chains. She thought.
Shas, who could finally free his legs, picked up his grandson. Jilta was still sobbing quietly.
"The old man sold even his own daughter to the authorities for money." The other child shouted as he retreated and pointed to the old man.
Before Branwen could think otherwise, they heard dozens of footsteps approaching them from all sides. The street lights suddenly lit up from all directions. "Please tell me it's not true." Branwen looked towards the old man for answers but the grandfather averted his eyes as he held Jilta in his hands. Branwen could see that the old man would do anything for his grandchild. She deduced that since the man was too old to be a soldier and earn a living, he had to do something to keep both of them alive and afloat. She sighed at the realization but harbored no hard feelings for the man.
"Do not move!" A voice commanded. Both Gwendal and Branwen were now surrounded by about thirty soldiers holding swords in their hands.
"We were informed that fugitives were hiding here!" bellowed a soldier. "Identify yourselves! What is your crime?" He continued to interrogate the chained "couple".
A man with a double chin, who could've easily been mistaken for Johann Sebastian Bach, had asked that question in an authoritative voice. Probably he was the boss. His Bach-face was crowned by a sea urchin sushi haircut.
Gwendal and Branwen whispered to each other as to what they were supposed to do next. Their crime has been piling up the moment they set foot in these lands. But was reprimanded by the soldier's commander. Saying that a bride was kidnapped from the church and that the two matched the description of the culprits.
Branwen was alarmed the moment she heard the word 'bride'. She knows that she had to protect Nicola especially since she is bearing a child. With a resolute look, she began to act a part. "No idea what you're talking about. We haven't seen any bride!" Branwen said, intentionally loudly. Hoping that it would alert Nicola and that she could hide safely.
The food had been carted off, and the boys had all disappeared. Any curious onlookers had been chased away by the soldiers, and even Shas had retreated a few steps with Jilta in his arms. She then turned to Gwendal hoping that he could play along with whatever that she was thinking. "Have you seen a bride anywhere?" She asked.
Lord von Voltaire took the stage with fierce, flashing eyes, exuding self confidence. "It's true, we are really on the run. But as you all can see, we are just an eloped couple," he said. As he brandished the chains openly for the soldiers to see.
"Yes, exactly!" Branwen said and presented the back of her right hand, with the Sea World stamp. "Why would we possibly be interested in other people's women?" Gwendal continued.
"Well said, darling! We are so in love, we only have eyes for each other. Isn't that so?" Branwen said sweetly and daringly as if it were true. She brought their faces as close as possible by grabbing Gwendal's collar and neck seductively. Hoping the act would suffice for the situation.
"How right you are." The honest face that Gwendal pulled at these words was worse than creepy. Branwen could not help but chuckle to herself. "Hurry up Gwen, you can't just be stiff when your 'madly in love lover' is clinging to you" She whispered.
Gwendal was anything but pleased at the moment. He was taken aback by their queen's open seduction 'act' that he froze instantly in place; his fingers twitching on his sides. He didn't know where to hold her at the moment. He decided for the waist. He moved his free hand to her waist and let it stay there for a good few minutes. His breathing strained. The small play had ended when someone peeled their queen away from their embrace. Only then was he able to breathe normally.
The soldier that peeled Branwen away from Gwendal scrutinized the teen and threatened her that if they were indeed hiding the bride, they would bitterly regret it. Moments later, another soldier reported that he had found the bride's dress but was not able to see the girl in the area.
Branwen heaved a sigh of relief at the thought that Nicola was able to get to safety.
"How boring," murmured the boss to himself and snapped with his tongue. "Arrest them! But first, logistics. What are your names?"
Branwen eyed Gwendal as if asking what they should say. Luckily, Gwendal was quick witted as he answered "My name is Yanbo. The one over here is Mabo" He held her by the neck as he motioned to her. Branwen tried not to chuckle and laugh at the choice of their makeshift names.
Branwen thought that they would go with them quietly; but as the men tried to round them up, Gwendal's eyes glinted and started fighting them off. Branwen would not have liked it any other way. She gladly mirrored her companion's movements making sure that she would not get in his way while she also fends off those that tried to come from Gwendal's back. Their sweep was going well until Gwendal's sudden long stride caused Branwen to slip up. With a thud, she landed face flat on the ground. "Damn these chains." she muttered under her breath and she looked up and saw wooden sticks ready to clobber her and she had no time to dodge. She braced for the impact when suddenly, a towering figure jumped over her. "Gwen!" She shouted. Gwendal took the hit for her.
"If you had just come quietly, you wouldn't have gotten hurt!" The men rounded them up again this time, they had their swords pointed closer to the two to make sure that they would not try anything funny.
Branwen looked worriedly at Gwendal as they made their way towards the carriage. "Sorry, for my sake.." Gwendal cut her off showing the trinket that she had given him the night before. "I dropped this, you see. I was merely trying to pick it up. When they were rounding us up earlier, I saw the woman still sneaking past some of the soldiers. Hence the sudden decision to be a little bit aggressive." Branwen smiled at that.
The stress and exhaustion finally caught up with Branwen as they got to the carriage. Even the clattering jolts of the wooden wheels seemed as relaxing to her like the rolling of the waves at the sea. She fell asleep almost instantly.
As she woke up, she found herself leaning on Gwendal's shoulder. She sat upright hastily. She gathered that it was as embarrassing as falling asleep on the shoulder of a complete stranger in a subway. She had to turn away to hide her flustered face.
"Try to get some more sleep," said Gwendal.
Branwen dismissed him saying that she doesn't want to be the only one making herself comfortable while the other is also exhausted. She mused and after all, they are still considered as an eloped couple. She then heard the older brother snort quietly. Was that a laugh? She blinked as she looked towards Gwendal.
"I think maybe you are something of a freak. Have you always been so_daring?" He scoffed. Gwendal was referring to the little act that happened earlier. Branwen was flustered after remembering what she did. She blushed at the thought of it.
"Shut it. Gwen, I only did it for survival." She tried to mask her embarrassment with an angry face. She was at loss and sighed a defeated sigh when she heard Gwendal just dismissed her statement with a half hearted "hmm". She could have sworn that the hidden meaning behind that is along the sides of (if you say so).
"Why are you always so keen to get yourself into trouble?" Gwendal stared stiffly ahead as he spoke, his scowling eyes not looking at me. "You are the queen. You had the opportunity to leave all the state responsibilities to your underlings while you reveled in hedonism."
She blinked her eyes at his question, wondering how she should answer them. She told him that she didn't know how to dwell in hedonism. That living inside the castle walls enjoying luxury is not her style. Gwendal asked her if there's anything that appealed to her like.. Richness.. delicacies .. men…
"Well I can't say I didn't like those things. I mean I would have loved to experience living in richness getting everything I want; sampling every delicacy there is and of course a chance at falling in love. But at the moment, I can say that I love what I'm doing. There's baseball, fencing, hiking, music. So I really can't wish for anything more." She said as she mused at all the activities she has on Earth.
"Then why don't you just occupy yourself with those activities?" he queried.
"I've been doing that for almost ten years already."
"So, baseball is not dependent on the office of the demon queen?" He was stunned at that.
When she explained that you only need enthusiasm for those things, he pressed that she should find a more expensive hobby. She smiled at that. "Why? Does the role of the demon queen require living it up at the expense of everyone's taxes? Do you really think that that's the way a demon queen should behave?" she asked in all honesty. Gwendal turned to face her - I'd never seen such a clueless expression from him before. His scowling eyes had lost a tiny bit of their confidence.
"No, but... up until now, all the demon monarchs that have been chosen from the ranks of the commoners have acted in that fashion." He said as a matter of fact.
"I didn't know that. After all, I was just a regular Japanese student when I was first summoned here. I wasn't prepared to be Queen, I knew nothing of this world. That's probably one of the reasons why I chose to just put my head into everything. I learn through experience you see? I want to know what this world has to offer and see them with my own eyes. Maybe it will help me with tougher decisions later on. The only example of a monarch that I know of is_ your mother. But she's already a fully-grown woman while I'm still_ anyway, I can't be expected to perform the same way as her. For now, I just decided to do what I can to the best of my abilities. And besides.." She turned her eyes to him and looked at him solemnly. "If I'm on the verge of making an enormous mistake, you'll stop me.. Won't you Gwen?" She thought about all the people that have given her support all this time. Conrart.. Gunter.. Wolf.. and of course Gwen..
"Gwendal, you'd definitely stop me, right?" She smiled at him earnestly.
Gwendal relaxed his jaws, and a bunch of little wrinkles built up around his eyes. His smile was so peaceful and warm. They faced each other eye to eye for the first time. A silent agreement formed between them. For the first time, he is seeing how peculiar this young queen was. Even when trouble seems to find her, a Queen like her might not be so bad.
Wait… That smile too…Looks like… Branwen giggled at the thought. They are brothers alright. She stifles a laugh. as she feels that her companion is already eying her as if asking if she'd gone mad, She asked who Yanbo and Mabo are and how he was able to come up with a name quickly.
"Ah... that's the name of the little one I was taking care of not long ago." He looked as if he remembered a precious memory.
"I knew it, you do have secret children!" She exclaimed
"Yanbo is a bunny rabbit." He scoffed and turned his head away. That left Branwen speechless. Gwendal von Voltaire. With a bunny rabbit. She tried her best not to laugh. "Did you just say bunny rabbit?"
Before she could get an answer, the carriage came to a halt. The door was opened, they stepped out, flanked by guards to the left and right. If there were sunglasses and pipes, their entrance would have been perfect.
Normal POV
They were led to a stone building that looked as if the first floor of the parliament had been transported into it. At the entrance was a sign that Branwen could not read. She asked her companion what the place was and she was told that it was the family court. Branwen could hear background music as they went inside. It sounded like it belonged to a horror film.
Gwendal was visibly strained as they entered the building. "Gwen?! What's wrong with you? You look terrible." Branwen turned to him with worry plastered on her face. Gwendal's forehead and neck were covered in sweat although it was relatively cool in the building. "The power of exorcism.. The entire building is full of it.." Gwendal murmured resolutely.
Branwen pondered at his statement. She looked all over the place to see if she could spot the cause of her companion's discomfort. When she found nothing suspicious, "Can it be the music?" she wondered aloud. "I don't hear anything" was Gwendal's strained reply.
They could only move slowly as Branwen assisted the already weakening mazoku who was now struggling to walk beside her. They were directed to a medium-sized courtroom. The walls and floor were made of highly polished, milky white stone. Four old men sat at a podium; presumably the judges. Each of them had just enough white hair remaining to be built into the standard Iroquois hairstyle.
In the middle of the room were three people, arguing with each other. Two men held a loudly crying woman by each arm and seemed to be playing tug of war with her; neither would let go. One of the men eventually fell over backwards, and apparently, the decision was met. The puffed up guy, who had never let go of her arm, left the room. His chest was swollen with pride, and he had the woman, who'd lost consciousness from the pain and shock, slung over his shoulder.
"Next! Yanbo and Mabo!" called one of the judges. "Ohoho, what a stunning pair!"
Both parties were shoved at the center to face the judges. "Those chains look quite heavy," he said to them. "The tall one is Yanbo? You are a demon? As I see it, you don't look too well, but that's not surprising. This building is protected with the power of exorcism. For demons with magical powers, this place is far from comfortable. So, let's get this done! You two will surely be relieved to get out of those handcuffs, am I right?"
The man didn't give Branwen and Gwendal the impression of being a judge. To them he was more like an amiable uncle who talked fast. His speech was not authoritarian nor did he use complicated expressions to make himself seem important. Branwen was focused on the clues that lay before her and tried to come up with a plan to get the non-guilty verdict. As she was thinking of what to do next, the judge spoke again.
He stated the crime of the two. "You two are elopers," He began and looked through the papers in his hand. He said that he didn't find the couple's match on any search warrant. Branwen took this queue to try and persuade the judge that it's not how it seemed like but she was not given the chance to finish any of her sentences. The man had always cut her off saying that in order to get rid of the chains, they must convince him that they are really going to separate and swear that they will reunite with, and marry, their predetermined lawful partner and start a family…
Branwen was startled at that. But didn't try to interject any further. Deciding that it was useless to talk with the judge who would just force the decisions on them regardless of what she and Gwendal said. She peeked at Gwendal who is now more weak and strained than before. They needed to get out of here quickly. So she just stayed silent and waited for the judge to speak again.
The judge did continue. He said that he wanted to hear our answers here and now how very abhorrent they are with each other. Branwen is really annoyed at this point but the top priority to them was getting rid of the handcuffs.
Branwen began by saying how right the judges were and that she completely regretted having eloped with 'Yanbo'. She stated that since the very beginning, she knew that it would never turn out well with him and that the man beside her just treated her like a dumb kid and is gruff with her. She also said that when she wanted to elope with him, he was going on about how she was just a dead weight around his neck and that they can't even have a proper conversation. She then turned to her side silently asking for her companion's input on the matter and measuring her companion. Gwendal grumbled beside her at her statement.
She lamented to herself that if she had just done what Gwendal had demanded from the start and stayed at the Karbelnikoff territory they wouldn't be in this situation. "I'm so sorry, I was an idiot," she said to him.
"Not necessarily." Gwendal's thundering bass usually shuddered through all your bones, but it had gone weak, quiet, and hard to understand. Although he was barely managing to keep to his feet, he straightened his back nonetheless. "In my eyes, you are not such a terrible queen," he said.
The judge who is clearly not convinced with the words of 'hatred' that transpired between them threw an elongated, gleaming piece of steel at their feet. A clanging noise rang out. "Pick that up!" ordered the judge.
Branwen stopped short. Before them lay a shortsword with a blade of about twenty centimeters length. The grip, which looked like ivory, was decorated with carvings. Rust-colored flakes had been left behind in the fine grooves. It was blood.
The judge ordered them to pick up the blade and for one to stab another with it. Branwen's eyes widened at the sudden order. "W…what?" she stuttered. But the judge remained firm in his decision. He says that it was the only way they would be freed of the chains. Yes, Branwen likes that but not in this way. She would_could never bring herself to hurt anyone who hadn't done anything wrong to her.
Gwendal slumped unsteadily down to a crouch and picked up the shining blade. His calm demeanor exuded the place and shook Branwen to her core. He set one knee to the ground. He doesn't have any more strength to stand. He looked at the shocked expression on his queen's face and let out a soft mutter as he pressed the sword to her right hand. "It's alright. They are not telling you to kill me. Just a small wound will suffice."
When he still saw the hesitation in the eyes of their queen, he touched his left shoulder and watched their queen with a scowl and cool expression. "This spot would be relatively bearable. Come on, do it already!" He ordered Branwen.
Branwen's fingers trembled pathetically. Her mouth dried. She just had to do a light stab and it would probably not bleed heavily. She knows what to do and where it wouldn't hurt and wouldn't bleed excessively. She was taught this before. It was one of her training sessions.
"What's wrong?" said Gwendal with suppressed impatience and irritation. "It's not the first time you've held a sword. Do it just like last time." Even if it were just their queen, she should be able to get out of this place once she had wounded him.
Branwen sighed. She gathered her resolve. "This is just crazy," She murmured. She couldn't see her way through it, to injure someone without a battle or any provocation. "We aren't even mad at each other! On the contrary, we have just barely begun to understand ourselves better. If you think that it's so easy, then you do it! Could you really stab me for no reason with this filthy weapon?" She eyed Gwendal as she tossed the knife upwards. It tumbled into the air and she caught it by the blade and placed its hilt in front of him.
Gwendal's mouth opened slightly as he pulled a face that said this was no more than he'd expected. In this short moment, Conrart's tortured smile was mirrored in his face. Yep, they were in fact brothers. I can somewhat see the resemblance now. Branwen said in her head.
"No," Gwendal finally said.
"See, I told you! This whole thing is just completely sick. Absolute rubbish! We should prove our intent to separate by going at each other with a knife? This isn't the middle ages! And all of this in front of a theoretically dignified judge, who looks on smiling with happiness? You've all lost your marbles! And do you know what stinks the worst?" She pulled Gwendal back to his feet, then turned back to the four men in the judges' seats.
She expressed against the idea of other people telling her how to manage her personal relationships. Saying that if she would hate someone, she doesn't need outsiders to help her with that. Same as to when she falls in love. She's not someone who just follows orders just because..She snatched up the ivory sword in its grip and flung it to the ground. At the clang of metal, all the guards in the room drew in a quick breath.
"Come on, Gwen, we're out of here! We'll find someone else who can get these chains off of us." Branwen said to the man that is now being supported by her small shoulders.
There was impatience in the judge's voice as he shouted that the chains can only be removed in that place. This has caused Branwen to stop on her tracks and was met by Gwendal's questioning eyes. "What now?" He asked Branwen as if it were no big deal. He never even bothered looking at the judge.
Branwen swallowed hard at the statement. But went on their way nonetheless. She is sure that once they have rendezvoused with Conrart and the others, they would know what to do about these chains. Even if they had to kidnap a human just to make do with it, they would. Now, they had to get out of this place and find somewhere to hide for Gwendal to recover.
The judge spoke again. This time he was not rushing to give a verdict. He was now a little bit persuasive. Saying that they had already made their feelings clear and that he was swayed by the bond the two shared therefore he had decided to remove the chains.
Branwen was clearly relieved at that and stopped to look at the judge again. But just as she turned, she felt a cold pain on her neck and rang through her body. After a few seconds, she was knocked unconscious.
"Yuuri!" she heard a voice in the distance. For the first time, Gwendal had called her by her name.
Gwendal panicked at what had transpired. He called his queen's name almost as instantly she fell to the ground. He tried to wing his way towards his unconscious queen but was restrained by the soldiers. He cursed his carelessness and the exorcism stones that are laid in the place. He could not move and he was too weak. He had no way to counter the enemy before him and thus he let them lead him towards the underground dungeon. He looked towards the sleeping figure of his queen again and muttered a silent promise in his head. I will definitely come for you.
SOMEWHERE IN SVELERA
Conrart's POV
At this time of the day, the shops that still had lights on were mostly pubs and brothels. Since Yuuri was summoned to the Empire of the Demons, Conrart had come to stay in the royal palace. But during the recent decade, he had had numerous opportunities to travel to foreign countries.
The capital of Svelera was large, but at night the streets were deserted. The bars were bursting with drunken soldiers, but there were no young women in the brothels. Perhaps there weren't enough customers, since all the men were faithful to their wives and only prudish romantic relationships were allowed?
"I don't feel well," Wolfram murmured after trotting in silence next to Conrart for a long time. He explained that the city is full of elements that obey exorcism.
Since he was not sure if their aimless wandering would be fruitful, Conrart said: "I have no spark of magic in me, so I feel nothing. But if you can't stand it anymore, you can rest in a hostel..." Conrart offered to his younger brother.
"Oh, shut up." As long as Wolfram had enough strength to make insolent retorts, he would not collapse yet, Conrart thought. Given his headstrong younger brother, he sighed and gave up trying to urge him to return.
Since the mining of exorcist-stones was encouraged, the climate of this country had become strange. Although the region had always suffered from drought, the rainy season used to bring enough rainfall. But those days were over. The crops withered in the fields and the cattle died - the amount of food domestically produced had reached the lowest point and the country was no longer self-sufficient. Instead, the rare exorcist stones were now traded for food in the international market. High-quality stones were sold at horrendous prices, while those of inferior quality were squandered at dumping prices in the domestic market.
Only the privileged wealthy class was able to further increase their wealth, while the majority of people suffered from hunger and thirst. The fact that no one had died from famine so far was probably because at least one member from each family toiled in the mines. It was believed that high-quality exorcist stones could only be excavated by women and children.
After they passed by a brothel without seeing any women, Conrart asked about his other half-brother's strength. "Would Gwendal be able to use his magic in this city where so many elements obey the exorcism?"
"My brother would still be a great warrior without his magical power. But yeah, I know very few who would still have full command of their magic in a territory so hostile to the demons. Our mother would be able to do so." His emerald-green eyes darkened, his handsome eyebrows drew together. It was not often that Wolfram hesitated. "And perhaps Susannah Julia too. I can think of no one else."
"That does not sound good," said Conrart, but he tried not to look too worried.
They walked toward a two-storey building around the corner. As soon as they left the main street and turned into a small alley, they were immediately swallowed in darkness. There were no streetlights. Without the lights from the houses and shops, their eyes could rely only on the dim light from the moon and the stars.
"I just hope that at least one of our troops finds Her Majesty immediately." Conrart said.
"We were supposed to meet in the capital, that was settled. I can't imagine that they would not wait for us. I'm sure we owe it again to Branwen's thick skull that they aren't staying at a hostel. It seems the whole thing was mistaken for a pleasure trip." And that too from your mouth, Wolfram, Conrart thought and he could only manage to suppress a laugh.
As they were passing by the backside of a brothel, a slender shadow darted out from a stone staircase into the street. Since neither had the time to step aside, they inevitably collided. This person was bigger than a child. Judging from the body, it could very well be a boy. Behind the figure was a little boy with brown blue eyes and light brown hair.
"Oh, excuse me." The lady exclaimed. She fell to the ground on her bottom while Conrart, as the train soldier that he is, was able to stay on his feet.
"Branwen, is that you?" Wolfram exclaimed.
Conrart was shocked at the name coming out of his brother's lips. This person, from the depths of his memories, did not even bear a close resemblance to Yuuri. He offered her a hand to stand. "No it's not her." Conrart said as he eyed his brother and examined the girl in front of him.
"You know Branwen? My name is Nicola! This little boy is Jilta." The girl said in amazement. She took the scarf covering her head down, and stared at the others in the moonlight. She looked alternately at Conrart and Wolfram, and finally her eyes rested on the blond, pretty boy. "You're a demon, right? You have an extremely beautiful face. Are you friends of Branwen's?"
Conrart hesitated, but Wolfram snorted irritably: "Friends? This must be a joke! Branwen is my betrothed."
"Really?" Cried the girl. "That would mean that ... that you're ... So then you'd be..." she stammered. Without concealing her feelings, her large eyes wandered back and forth uncontrollably under long and dark lashes.
"What?" Wolfram said impatiently.
"Then you are the younger brother, whose fiancé has run off with your own elder brother?"
"What are you saying?" In an instant, Wolfram's face had turned visibly red even in the pale moonlight. At the same time, steam seemed to be rising from his head.
"Lord Weller, what does that mean?" He yelled. "My brother and Branwen! This cannot be true! I knew it! She's a wimpy cheater!" Wolfram muttered curses as he paced back and forth.
"Wolfram, calm down. It is certainly not what it looks like. And it's not the place to talk about it." Conrart tried to calm the blond and ushered them to the inn that they were staying at. Conrart eyed the streets behind them and noticed the movements of soldiers sweeping the area looking for something.
Once they arrived in the rented room, the girl continued her explanation. She says that the two are surely a couple and that she has seen in her own eyes the love that is shared between them when they hugged in front of the soldiers and that they were chained together.
"Chained together?" It had to be boiling water inside Wolfram's head. Conrart sighed.
"Please don't be angry with them. They seemed very happy to be together. They even picked matching fake names for themselves." The girl pleaded.
"There must be a good reason for this," Conrart tried to mitigate the situation. As he leaned by the window of the inn, listening to the girls' tales. The Lord Betrothed has gone completely out of his mind with fury and was by then torturing an innocent garbage can with his feet. Conrart decided to let Wolfram vent his rage. He then shifted his eyes to the boy named Jilta that had been silent throughout the adult's conversation.
"Jilta, you are of Mazoku tribe, right?" The boy nodded at him. Then he decides to continue. "Would you kindly guide me to where your family is?" The boy looked at him with questioning eyes as he muttered "To grandpa?" Conrart nodded at him and he continued his explanation. "You have helped Branwen and Gwendal, It's now our turn to assist you."
"Wait a second, Lord Weller! It is true that he is being hunted down, and this kid's family might be in danger but_" Wolfram interjected but was cut and silenced by his brother's authoritative call to his name.
"Wolfram!" Conrart said in a stern warning as he eyed the boy who is now showing worry for his family. Wolfram who got the meaning of the words did not utter any other word.
Conrart then eyed the boy with a light smile assuring him that they will protect his family. Then he turned to Wolfram, reminding him that if Yuuri was with them, she would have done the same. With that clear statement, Wolfram had no choice but to agree. "Well it's because Branwen is a wimp." He muttered.
With that settled, Conrart turned to Nicola. "Do you know where Her Maje ... I mean, if Yuuri and her companion got captured, do you know where they could have been taken?"
"I do. When elopers get caught, they are all brought to the same place" She eyed the two of them sadly. Conrart and Wolfram eyed each other, now determined with what they had to do next.
SVELERA EXCAVATION SITE
Normal POV
Branwen was awoken as she landed on a cold floor. She was thrown like luggage. She tried to move her limbs but she was sore all over so it seemed that her senses had failed her. Above her, she heard voices saying how pitiful she was and how young. She looked at the hand that was supposedly cuffed and since she was not able to see it, she deduced that she and Gwen have already been separated. The judges kept their promise to free both of them from the chains. She then remembered what Nicola had said about her and Huber. It means that right now, Gwen was in one of the prison cells.
She tried to open her eyes to see where she was. As she looked up, female figures hovered over her. She tried to sit up and look at them eye to eye. She moved and felt the soaring pain in her body. Without much ado, the others helped her up. She offered thanks and they quickly prepared an additional sleeping place in the hall. The lady ordered four women to move over there. She could only see her face dimly, but given the way she commanded the women, she was probably the leader of this group. The bed was more like a cot with a thin blanket on top. It was as comfortable as a park bench.
Branwen gathered her courage to politely ask what this place was. The lady explained that the hole is where the government disposed of women who rebelled against their gods, the community and have lost everything. It is the excavation area for the exorcist-stones. Recognition registered on Branwen's face as she heard the familiar name. It is the stones that Gwen was talking about. The one that hindered and weakened him.
The lady then turned to her. She asked her what could a young girl like her have done to end up in a place like this. Branwen told her that she was falsely accused of being an eloper. The lady boss nodded in understanding and pointed to the bed next to them. She says that the lady 'Martha' had an affair with her married employer. That they had planned to flee to the neighboring country but her lover did not show up at their appointed place. That even her new born child was taken away from her. Since then, Martha has not uttered a word.
Branwen showed her distaste. She said that both the woman and the man should have been punished together since both of them have commited the deed. Only to be silenced again by the lady boss saying that in this country, it was always the women's fault for seducing the men. The lady then asked if her partner had been thrown into the prison. She nodded. The lady smiled "At least he did not abandon you. You are to be envied, being loved so much"
Branwen gulped and let out a nervous smile at that. As their queen, they had no choice but to follow and protect her. LOL. She's sure that if it was only upto Gwendal, he would have already thrown her to be fed to the sharks. Ohh right, sharks are vegetarian here. She mentally corrected herself.
With the daylight, the room gradually became brighter, and she could see what it looked like. Five bunk beds stood against the left and the right walls, leaving only a narrow passage in between. The room was cramped, dark and grim - similar to the prison from which the young Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke has broken out.
The woman, who talked to her, had shockingly skinny hands and legs, with knuckles bulging out. She looked over thirty. She was not exactly a beautiful woman, but her eyes shone with a strong will, and they gave the impression of strength and self-confidence.
Outside, a trumpet blared. All of the occupants in the room immediately sprang from their beds. With incredible speed, they slipped to their work clothes. "What is your name?" The boss asked Branwen as she tied her shoelaces. Branwen replied with the pseudo name given by Gwendal "I'm Mabo! Nice to meet you."
"I'm Norika. Well then, Mabo! The jailer will be here soon. If you're not ready by then, there won't be breakfast." She smiled.
Branwen managed to sit up despite her sore muscles and joints. As typically shown in American movies, the jailer shouted for them to stand. The jailer then eyed everyone checking if they were ready for the day. The jailer's eyes immediately fell on Branwen as she was not able to stand straight and shouted "Collective punishment" before she turned and disappeared.
Angry voices and sighs filled the room. It was clear that they would have to start the day on an empty stomach. Branwen lowered her head to apologize to everyone for the mistake she had made. Norika assured her that it was okay since she still didn't know what to do and she laughed it off.
She then followed everyone to the excavation site. The bare rock surface was riddled with numerous holes. The women formed lines and climbed into the shafts one by one without saying a word to each other. Everything went quietly and in order. The workers were all skinny, dirty and exhausted. They were bound together with chains around their hips.
Norika had instructed her on what to do. She had also been given her tools. A bucket and a shovel to dig the sands and find a blue stone. She followed the instructions quietly, not minding the scorching heat. Since she knows that the soldiers are carefully watching them and with one wrong move, she might cause everyone another misfortune. As she was gathering the exorcist-stone, she let her mind wander to its thoughts. She pondered how unfair this forced labor is and the pitiful women who were labeled as traitors for freely loving a Mazoku. She can't help but wonder about what she can do in this realm. She sighed. What can a kid like her do?
A small corner of her soul trusted that someone would come to her rescue. She only needed to grit her teeth for a little while longer. She was certain Conrart would eventually show up and save her. She's sure of it. Her knight will eventually come for her. She just needed to do what she could at the moment. Then her thoughts went to Gwendal. What can she do for him? The dungeon was not a pleasant place as well.
She silently scolded herself and mouthed: "Conrart, wherever you are please save your brother first." The images of his smile suddenly flashed in her head. His words of encouragement, his grin even his frustrated look..She shook her head at her own thoughts and placed them at the deepest corners of her head. What was happening to her? With a new determined look, she began to dig again this time she hummed tunes to relieve her boredom.
A few moments later, you can hear a commotion at the distance. A woman was chasing after the guards who were carrying a bundle of cloth in their arms and was digging into the sandy ground with a spade. "What are they doing there?" Branwen turned to Norika for answers.
Norika looked angry at what the guards were doing and she explained that the mountain is a graveyard. "They are probably burying a baby again" She said with disgust. Then she ran towards the grave. Branwen also followed suit.
"Please wait! That's Martha's child! Four days ago he was taken away from her right after birth. She says that the child was still alive." Some women shouted.
"Do you women really think that we would bury a living child? He neither cries nor moves. He's dead. We just want to give him a final resting place, damn it!" The guard exclaimed.
Other guards came running; six of them pulled the chains on the female prisoners. One of the women let out a shrill cry, tore loose from the guards and tried to run to the grave. "Damned woman!"
The head jailer then approached the scene inquiring what was going on. One of the guards stroked his head and explained that the woman was screaming thinking that her child was still alive and that the woman wanted the baby back. Visible irritation appeared in the head jailer's face and he looked at the screaming women "Nonsense! This child was still at birth! We are already doing you a favor by digging its grave!"
Branwen's temples swelled at the words uttered by the head jailer. She had to restrain herself as impulsive actions were never good. She had to remind herself firmly that Conrart and Guinter were both not there with her and she had to remain calm. Even if Gwen and Wolf had been here, they would have had their own problems to deal with. However, all her determination vanished as she heard what the head jailer said next.
"Even if the child really was alive, does it make a difference whether the bastard lives or dies?" That was too much. Branwen's self-control was gone, never to return. She clenched her fists and bit her lip.
"Stop!" She cried. "Of course it makes a difference! And even if the child is already dead, you ought to respect the dead a bit more! You could have at least read some prayers, and let the mother say goodbye to her child. That is how it should be done! You want to be a great chief warden? A disgrace to the title, that's you!"
The head jailer eyed Branwen with visible irritation and anger. He warned her to shut up or she would be the one to get into one of the holes and be buried alive. But even his menacing glare had no effect on Branwen as she dashed towards the guards that were holding the child. She knocked the man unconscious with a swift blow to his gut and clutched the child to her arms. She lost her footing as she grabbed the child and both of them rolled down the steep of the hill.
More women came to her to see if she was alright. The child's mother, Martha looked at her in desperation and thanks. She turned to sit up and looked at the bundle in front of her. All of a sudden, her eyes fixed at the figure. He moved! The child moved. The child was alive! She turned to Martha and Norika with teary eyes.
"He's alive! He's alive! I know it, she cried. "He is my child!" It was the silent Martha, who had finally found her voice.
Branwen was overwhelmed by her emotions, and could speak no more. With trembling fingers, she began to remove the wrapping cloth. The women were frozen in the air. Only Martha tearfully prayed in a croaking voice. Branwen sat on the floor; the warm, soft bundle lay on her knees. She anxiously lifted the last shreds off of him.
Branwen's mind froze for a moment. She was shocked, horrified and paralyzed. "What have you done to him?" she finally asked in a hollow voice.
The baby was breathing. Even if only slightly, his narrow and dark red shriveled breast raised and lowered. Both eyes and mouth were closed, his skin was completely dry. Also, the clenched hands were not moving; the left arm was lying sideways on the belly. His right arm and his right leg were twisted unnaturally.
"What did you do to this child? How could you ..." Branwen's face darkened and her eyes were covered by her hair. The child was not even crying.
The mother had gotten the child from her clasps and took her son into her arms. The other women were surrounded together in a circle, clubs and spades kept pounding down on them.
What barbarians! Branwen thought.
The demon stone on Branwen's chest was burning hot on her skin, She could hardly breathe. In a corner somewhere in the depths of her skull, an electrical spark rushed through the synapses. The shock crept along her spine and, resonating with her heartbeat, exploded in her ears. The low and high-pitched ringings in her head struggled with unbearable ferocity against one another.
As in an explosion, where there was a yellow stretch of dry land, now she could see nothing but snow-white smoke. She was suddenly flooded with a euphoric bliss. One of her brain cells brought back the name of a person of unsurpassed beauty.
I will...
Who would?
What happened after that, she does not know.
IN THE DUNGEON and to the excavation site
Same time as when Branwen started her day….
Normal POV
The cerulean eyed mazoku can be seen seated in a cell full of blue glowing stones. His feet were chained to the wall and his back leaned to the wall. The only light that can be seen is the sunlight that penetrated the small window above his head. He sat there quietly, one hand resting on the side of his chest and the other holding the trinket that was given to him by his queen. He eyed it with care.
He had been devising a plan on how to get out of the cell and chains that bound him in hopes to find their queen. But he also assessed his current physic. He gathered a few broken ribs, topped with the exorcist stones that are steadily draining his strength. It's not good. When he had heard footsteps coming, he tucked the trinket away and closed his eyes with a frown.
He heard the guards mocking him as they viewed him through the jail door's bars. They gossiped that there was another mazoku that was kept in that certain jail but had broken out. They said that the man had probably already died in the desert. This causes Gwendal to look at them with curiosity. He eyed them as they talked among themselves. Cerulean eyes went wide when the two chattering guards fell unconscious to the ground. Then a familiar figure came into view.
"You really got clobbered up, Gwendal" Conrart smiled at his brother as he opened the cell. Gwendal only sat motionlessly. Before Conrart was able to go closer to his older brother, his younger brother came running in. "Big brother, are you unharmed?" But as Wolfram entered the room, he became weak and fell to the ground.
Gwendal eyed his now kneeling brother. "Don't strain yourself." Conrart went to Wolfram's side. "Do as he says. Aren't you also suffering from the influence of the exorcist stone?" Before Wolfram could utter a word of protest, Gwendal cut in saying that they shouldn't have come. Surprise registered in Conrart and Wolfram's face at their brother's statement. But nonetheless, Conrart gave a small smile and went to his older brother to free him of his chains. "I'm pleased to still find you in the land of the living." Conrart said with a gentle smile.
"Big brother, where is Branwen?" Wolfram's strained voice was heard. "Isn't she with you?"
"No." Gwendal huffed. As the chains were removed, he strained to stand and Conrart was able to catch him before he could even fall. He eyed his brother in understanding and he slid his arm to his shoulder and they walked out of the cell. Gwendal remembered his silent promise to his queen as he took a step at a time out of the cell.
They met with their entourage and Gwendal was given first aid to his injuries. He was glad that everyone got out safely of the sand bear's lair. He was still in awe of their queen's decision at that time but it had been a correct one, he knows that from all the men he had with him, Conrart was the only one who had a close encounter with the beast.
With Nicola's guidance, they were able to transverse the way to the excavation site swiftly. They had gotten a soldier's uniform to blend undetected. Conrart scanned the perimeter. Including those outside the gate, the number of the guards exceeded more than two hundred. He then turned to Wolfram and his companions. His brothers were in no shape to fight.
There were presumably a large number of exorcist-stones in the area. These stones caused great pain to those who possessed strong magical power. Since Wolfram had earlier complained about headaches, Conrad himself was uncertain whether he could count on him in battle. "You should better decide now if you can bear it or not, I will not be able to cover you in battle."
"Who do you think I am? I can perfectly handle it myself!" Wolfram retorted while Gwendal just nodded.
"Good to know." Conrart noticed that there is a silent dispute in Wolfram's heart and being near Gwendal is not helping it. He decided to talk to Wolfram away from Gwendal's eyes and ears. He dragged the blond on a steep slope for the talk. "Wolfram, don't let it get to you. You should really try to get to know Her Highness better or she will really grow tired of you. She's not someone who would betray the trust of anyone so easily."
"How come you seem to understand her so well? You even helped Gegenhuber's mistress." Wolfram retorted.
Conrart gathered that it was actually what's on Wolf's mind. He gave out a wry smile. His brother still cared for him in a way. Conrart explained that Nicola helped them get to where their Queen is and that if only the queen was with them, she would have done the same. "As for why I seem to understand Her Highness, I've known and liked her since before she was born. She certainly is not a person who would bear grudges for women who fell in love with mazoku. Or for any human for that matter."
"She's still Gegenhuber's mistress! If not for him, you would have been Lord of Wincott's Manor!"
"It's not important." Conrart said sternly.
"And what about Julia's death? Is it also unimportant?"
"Wolfram ..." At that moment, it occurred to Conrad that right after his birth, this brother of his, who looked exactly like their mother, had let no one but him hold him in his arms. Since then Conrad had been the one who took care of Wolfram each and every day. Until the little boy learned that his second oldest brother was half-human. Thereafter, the immaculate Gwendal became Wolfram's object of admiration and reverence.
Conrad shook his sword scabbard forcefully to rid it off the fine sand grains. "That was a long time ago," he said. "Everything was a long time ago. Even if Huber had not caused things to unfold the way they did, Julia and I... I just can't explain why he has fallen in love with a girl like Nicola." Gegenhuber was in fact an outspoken hater of the human race. "Well, after all it was possible with you…"
"Don't change the subject!" Snapped Wolfram. "Have you forgiven Huber's crime? Is that why you agree to take his wife to our country and ..."
"No, that's not the reason." Yuri would not have wanted otherwise. Although he had not heard from her personally, Conrad was convinced. Yuuri would gladly take the women who loved the demons to her country. Lord Weller let his thin sword slide back into the scabbard. He squinted his eyes to look at the faraway horizon behind the fence.
"I just want to fulfill the wishes of Her Majesty," he said with finality, ending their small talk and went on his way back to Gwendal and their troops.
As they prepared for the upcoming infiltration, they could hear screams and explosions from the other side of the high fence. The soldiers who had been standing outside the fence rushed inside one after the other.
Worry registered at Conrart's face. He hoped that his Queen was not in any danger; they needed to hurry. Then he turned to Wolfram who's face had already turned pale from horror and awe. "It's impossible..." Wolfram pressed his left hand against his forehead, knelt down on the ground and lowered his head. "A strong magic ... in a place full of exorcism forces ... That's impossible ... A magical force... strong and awful ... not to say nasty. Wait, I have felt something like this before..."
A nightmarish doomsday scenario flashed through Conrart and Wolfram's minds. They both recalled Yuuri's uproar on the pirate ship. "Is it something to do with Her Majesty..." Conrart asked. "Yes, that's her!." Wolfram exclaimed in confirmation.
Numerous mounds of earth, large and small, were scattered all over the area. Although there were no tombstones or flowers, these seemed to be graves. Her Majesty was standing in front of the graves, legs slightly apart, chest thrust out. She looked weary, but she had not suffered from any major injuries.
Conrart let out a sigh of relief. Wolfram looked as if he would have liked to run toward Yuuri and pull her into his arms. But to rashly interfere with Yuuri in this condition could bring more harm than good. Conrart couldn't help thinking that she looked as majestic as her title. He had seen a similar sparkle in Yuuri's eyes before.
Without the colored contacts, both Yuuri's eyes were jet black. Now that she had entered her Maou's mode, there was nothing they could do but sit down and watch her performance. The terrified women were all paralyzed. The soldiers and the guards tried to find the best way to attack, but Yuuri's defense seemed quite solid. A mild tremor started, as if at any moment, a dragon would rise from the depths of the earth. At first they felt a swaying under their feet, then the vibration continued until it reached the core of their bodies.
"These women had unselfishly sacrificed themselves in the name of love! They boldly devoted themselves to their lovers! But instead of admiration, they earned violence! The authorities punished them in a heartless and inhuman way!" Yuuri spoke as if she was on the stage. She acted like an actor from one of his favorite old-time historical series.
The tremors stopped - but only for a moment.
"No one can judge two lovers! Separate them? Make them swear to part from each other? These are the outdated deeds from the days of the geisha! No one in the world has the right to condemn them."
"Oh, Her Majesty seems to have expanded her repertoire," Conrad muttered calmly.
Yuuri raised her right arm to the sky and swung it down theatrically. Her index finger pointed directly at the head jailer. The head jailer gave a brief yelp and fell to the ground.
"It is not my intention to destroy and to take life, but ... I have no choice, I will smite thee with my sword! Justice be done!" There was only one catch: there was no sword in sight. Then came an eerie rattle sound. All eyes turned toward the graves at once. The faint-hearted fainted, even braver men shrieked. In the sunset, brown arms with curved fingers, like the claws of birds of prey, shot up from the graves and struck with a reckless vengeance.
First one, then two, and finally, innumerable arms broke out of the graves, followed by bodies that rose out of the ground up to the chest or the hip. Even Wolfram, who had been through a lot, stopped in mid air at the sight. "They...They are corpses. Zombies. "
The bodies spread their arms and rocked back and forth like seaweed. It was a creepy sight. Everywhere people were scrambling on top of each other, screaming and wailing. At Yuri's feet, the word: "Justice" was drawn in the sand.
"No, they are not corpses," said Conrad. "Even if they look the same, these are not human arms. It's all just sand and earth. They are but clay figures. "
The clay-zombies who had performed the seaweed-dance of the dead souls had melted and merged together, taking the shape of a giant human about the size of a Godzilla. As the giant made one step forward, people scattered frantically in all directions. All were afraid of being crushed to death under its feet.
"Amazing! Her Majesty has mastered the special-effects in the making of monster movies."
"Lord We..We..Weller, now is not the right time for praises!" Wolfram exclaimed.
"So, how can we stop her ?" Conrart eyed Wolfram calmly.
"Me? Don't ask me. Ahhhhhhh, it's because it's moving! The skin on its face is melting and falling off because it's moving, but since it's sand, it returns to the ground. I don't know how to stop something like that."
"Perhaps, but at this rate innocent lives could be sacrificed." Conrart said as he viewed his queen again.
Suddenly, a muffled laugh was heard from Gwendal who had kept quiet as both of his brothers conversed. Wolfram and Conrart turned to him confused and shocked when he mounted a horse and let it slide down the slope towards where their Queen was.
"Big brother!" "Gwendal!" cried Wolfram and Conrart, but Lord von Voltaire, covered with wounds all over, did not hear them.
The crowd broke apart to make way for a military horse coming through, galloping and snorting violently. Gwendal did not mind his injuries. As he went past the legs of the clay giant, he jumped out of the saddle and walked toward Yuuri. Without hesitation, the man came up to her and grabbed her wrist with his left hand. All the while thinking of his silent promise to himself and his Queen.
I have come for you...
"Gwendal, you'd definitely stop me, right?"
"Stop it!" Gwendal yelled at Yuuri. "You must stop this!" When Yuuri just eyed him with no signs of remorse he continued "What in the world are you doing? Think carefully!"
"Who are you ...?" The Maou mouthed. As she stares at the man in front of her
"What's wrong? Must you kill several people to satisfy you?" Gwendal can already feel his strength leaving his body. The pressure of being near the Maou coupled with his other injuries in not doing any good. But regardless of his situation, he is determined to bring his Queen back.
"Let it end at this. Do you understand Yuuri? Send that ridiculous statue back where it came from!" Gwendal eyed his queen sternly and shook Yuuri back and forth violently, bringing some senses back to her.
"You selflessly put yourself in danger to stop me! What daring courage! Given your brave heart, for now... I'll retreat." With her words, the sand sculptures returned to dust. Yuuri then collapsed to Gwendal's arms. Gwendal, who is already weakened, also fell to his knees as he caught his unconscious queen.
Both Wolfram and Conrart watched wide eyed at the whole spectacle. They had never heard their brother address their Queen as such and at moments like this, Gwendal has always usually stood in standby not wanting to lift a finger to those that did not interest him.
Their musings ended when they saw both their Queen and their brother slumped to the floor. They ran towards them to assist.