Wolfram and the Phoenix

by jinjyaa

On Cheri's wedding cruise, Wolfram takes a break from parenting, but doesn't return after he runs into a legendary Mazoku beast. Can Yuuri and the children find him?

4. A Late Redemption

Kyou Kara Maou : Wolfram Takes a Break

Summary: On Cheri's wedding cruise, Wolfram takes a break from parenting, but doesn't return. Can Yuuri and the children find him? Short sequel to The Pirate Wedding.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

Warning: tear-jerker…. I actually wrote this several weeks ago, and then sat on it, not sure that it really fit to add a tear-jerker ending to the sweet little phoenix story. This doesn't stand alone, either, of course. But maybe… it just shouldn't be told. Well, let me know what you think…

Please review.

Chapter 4 : A Late Redemption

As time passed, Wolfram was profoundly reassured every time he remembered the phoenix, that the grief he handed to the phoenix to put on the pyre that day – that Yuuri would live such a short time, would die so soon – that the phoenix would redeem that grief with a miracle. The miracles the phoenix brought for others unfolded – Manfred's leg completely restored to health, Aldrich's arm regenerated, and other wonders. And Wolfram took this as proof positive that the phoenix would redeem his grief, and Yuuri would live as long as Wolfram.

But as more time passed, Wolfram came to loathe the phoenix, and people learned not to speak of it in his presence. Indeed, when a middle-aged Yuuri told young Bertram the story, of how Bertram the Chu-detector found Wolfram and the phoenix, Bertram didn't believe him – if it were a true story, surely his Chichiue would have told him. Yuuri had run a hand through his thinning, greying hair, and agreed that Bertram was right, and tucked him into bed with a kiss. It was probably just as well that Bertram not bring it up with Wolfram, who felt so deeply betrayed. And so far as Yuuri knew, the phoenix had done Bertram no favors, either.

Yuuri himself, like most of them, gained the ability to use fire maryoku at any time. But he was pretty sure the gift was one of brotherhood from the fire elementals, not the phoenix. What had fire majutsu to do with Yuuri's grief? Nothing. Cheri could do some cool tricks combining her wind and newfound fire abilities. And fire majutsu was awesome for those present who had never wielded powers before. But for Yuuri, fire and water were an either-or sort of thing. And the von Bielenfelds had always been firebugs.

As Yuuri grew older, Wolfram didn't seem to age at all. He claimed this was natural to his ancestry – after all, Friedrich was still going strong well past the 800 mark. And though that may have been part of it, Yuuri privately suspected it was his fault – that by using 96 pirate lives, plus a generous amount of his own life-force, to build a maryoku transfusion to save Wolfram's life during the pirate affair, he had perhaps extended it beyond all reason. Those pirates probably had a good 5000 years of life left, added together, plus that bit off of Yuuri's own short lifespan. Yuuri didn't dare share this thought with Wolfram. It was hard enough on him that he didn't age. The adolescent levels of desire and lust that Manfred called 'testosterone poisoning', which normally settled down soon after the Mazoku century mark, didn't diminish at all in Wolfram. That same moderating of desire happened in Yuuri less than a decade after the phoenix.

Yuuri did mention, once, that perhaps it was his fault that the phoenix hadn't helped them. He hadn't felt grief about aging back then – only the abstract worry that Wolfram and Bertram would outlive him, still young. That conversation had gone very badly indeed. Yuuri was in his late fifties then, and hadn't made love to Wolfram in over a month. It was at that point that Wolfram moved into his own bedroom, and started taking lovers. They managed to save their marriage – the two still deeply loved each other. Every few months, Yuuri managed to make love to him. But Wolfram stayed in his separate bedroom, where he continued to bring his lovers. None of them lasted long. He dismissed them after a half year at most. Yuuri sourly wondered what advancement they got out of it. But in truth, they expected and received nothing but the enchanting Wolfram's company. If they fell in love with him by accident, well, he broke it off with those quickly.

Yuuri didn't age well at all. There were plenty of aging humans in this world, but to look as old as he did by age 60, they were well over 100, and few of them had reason to dwell in Shin Makoku. Mazoku and half-Mazoku almost never looked as old as Yuuri. His hair was steel grey, his joints arthritic, his face heavily lined. His short-term memory was failing. He leaned ever more heavily on Wolfram, by then his Chancellor of 15 years. After he had a mild heart attack at 61, and found himself dropping off to sleep in important meetings, he declared himself semi-retired, and Wolfram ran the country outright. The healers suggested that he avoid heavy exertion, including sexual activity. They didn't make love again.

The end came suddenly, at age 63, 45 years after the rebirth of the phoenix. There was a heavy blizzard, dumping nearly three feet of snow on Blood Pledge Castle. Yuuri went out in the dazzling snow afterwards to play with the kitchen maids' children, and shoveled snow to build a fort. He had a massive heart attack, and was dead before the children could even set off to fetch a healer.

-oOo-

And there was dark, and cold, and grief. His life passed before his eyes, and he saw much that was good, much he was proud of, much that he loved. Of regrets, there were a few, but one outshone all others – a beautiful tousled blond head, emerald green eyes gazing at him in love, a pink nightgown slipping off one shoulder, a crooked smile begging to be kissed. Oh, Wolfram… I'm so sorry, my love… He wasn't even sure if he was sorry he died too soon, or sorry he'd lived too long, after he'd ceased to be Wolfram's lover. But he was ever so sorry.

And into this dark cold void of grief, a spark appeared, fiery red-orange. This was nothing like what Yuuri had come to expect of death. The spark came to him, entered the core of his being, and burst into flame, consuming his entire body.

There was no pain from the fire. His soul remained, a spark suspended in flame. His grief was gone, but a wish remained. The phoenix appeared to him then, and showed him what the phoenix had seen that night 45 years ago. Yuuri as an 18-year old, arms around young Efram and Wolfram, Wolfram with a red flower in his hair, holding darling Bertram. As before, he felt the phoenix read his heart.

-oOo-

With a start, Yuuri found himself standing in the deep snow of the inner courtyard, where he'd been playing with the children, wearing nothing but wet swimming trunks and leather sandals. "Yow! It's cold!" he exclaimed, and ran into the castle.

The halls were deserted – it was clearly well past midnight. Teeth chattering, he walked into the nearby laundry and dried off and warmed up with a blanket. He found some of his clothes, left there to dry overnight, and started to put them on. It was only then that it really registered – he had his 18-year-old body back. It appeared to be the night of the day that he died, at age 63. But his body had been restored exactly to the night of the phoenix's rebirth. He put on his ill-fitting black clothes and found a mirror down the hall. It was true. And if he were a ghost, he was a strangely solid one, who could put on these oversized clothes.

Wolfram! I have to see Wolfram! He bounded up the stairs two at a time in his stocking feet, to the top floor, down the hall, and up another flight in the turret, to Wolfram's room, and stopped dead at the door. What if he isn't alone? A lot of pain came rushing back at that thought, but once looked at, he put it aside. Wolfram is my husband. He knocked briefly, and entered, idly whooshing on the lights. His fire maryoku still worked.

The room was deserted, half-packed. The closet hung open – Wolfram's clothes were gone, only a spare Walde uniform remaining. Yuuri sighed. So Joaquim really is his latest lover. This morning's Yuuri couldn't climb all those stairs – one of the reasons Wolfram had selected this turret room.

But then where's Wolfram? He should be with our children… Yes, that was the plan. When Yuuri died in his 80's, Bertram and Efram, maybe even Frieda and Greta, would be there to comfort him, to help him carry on. But in the event, Greta was queen of far-off Adreshulde, having married herself a handsome prince, with several adult children of her own now. Frieda was off with Conrad's Rangers, her territory in Dai Cimmarron. Bertram and Efram were with Manfred and Cheri and Friedrich this winter, at the Bielenfeld Majutsu Institute, Bertram studying and Efram teaching. Oh, poor Wolfram, I have to find him…

But, maybe I should wait until morning. If I don't know where to look… Well, he might be in my bedroom… Avoiding the few guards in the corridors, Yuuri went to his own room. He whooshed a light on, and then stopped. Wolfram was on the bed.

Wolfram lay mostly out of the covers, dressed in an old pink nightgown. Yuuri came up to the bedside and gazed at him. The pillow, currently migrated under his left knee, was sodden with tears. He clutched Yuuri's favorite family portrait – Wolfram and Yuuri, with Efram and newborn Bertram and Greta and two-year-old Frieda, taken just after they acquired the babies. Yuuri gently took the portrait from him and put it on the nightstand. Wolfram wore jewelry to bed, something he never did. Ah. The anniversary gifts I gave him every tenth year. He looked achingly beautiful, achingly sad even in sleep. And Yuuri felt the stirrings of desire within himself, at their old 18-year-old shocking levels.

He changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. He ran a hand down the luscious pink-clad form, and the even more intoxicating bare thigh and leg that had escaped the nightgown. Wolfram moaned in his sleep and rolled toward him, returning the caress.

Yuuri kissed him, and murmured, "Wolfram, wake up, love."

"Mmm, Yuuri, make love to me," Wolfram murmured back, throwing his arms around Yuuri's neck and drawing him into a long, deep kiss. He chuckled softly, "I don't usually dream of you at this age… You were so sweet…"

"Ah, Wolfram? You're not dreaming. It's really Yuuri. Wake up, love. I died, but the phoenix… he returned my body to the age when we saw him die and be reborn."

Wolfram hit him in anguish and rolled away, to hug a pillow sobbing. "No more damned phoenix dreams! I just want to make love to Yuuri again, you stupid dream!" This fell off into racking sobs.

Yuuri saw with cool clarity that there was no way to persuade Wolfram that he wasn't dreaming. And indeed, why bother? Sooner or later, he'd realize that on his own. And then probably hit me again, Yuuri thought wryly. So he ever so gently caressed Wolfram again, a kiss where he detached the neck-chain, a kiss to detach each ear-cuff, kisses sliding a shoulder free of the pink nightgown, until Wolfram stopped sobbing and rolled over to kiss him back and rid him of his pajamas.

"Frustrating dream. Usually the clothes just disappear when I want them to," muttered Wolfram, fumbling at a button. Yuuri sat him back and pulled Wolfram's nightgown over his head, then his own pajama shirt. He kneeled up to pull down the pajama bottoms and Wolfram tackled him back down to the bed. "Mmm, I should dream about you at this age more often…"

Yuuri hadn't made love to Wolfram in way too long. His desire that had waned so long ago, was suddenly restored to its lifetime highest levels. Any thought of telling Wolfram anything fled his mind as he made love in earnest, twice, until they fell asleep at last, sated, in each other's arms.

-oOo-

"EEEEK!"

Yuuri bolted awake to Wolfram's sharp scream. Wolfram was flung back on his elbows and heels, staring at Yuuri, mouth open wide. Wintry early morning sun filtered in the windows. "Are you… a ghost?"

Yuuri sat up, rubbing his hair. "Ah… I told you last night, but you insisted I was a dream, and you wanted your dream to stop talking and make love to you, and…" He grinned sheepishly. "Ah, I really wanted to make love to you, too, so…."

"You… Yuuri… you…" Wolfram's face was crumpling into sobs. Yuuri pulled him close and held him. "Are you… you can't be… the phoenix? You… came back… to me? It's really you?"

Yuuri held him tight and kissed him and caressed him, murmuring, "I love you. Yes, it's really me. And oh, I love you." Eventually Wolframs sobbing died back a bit. Yuuri added, "No more Joaquim, OK? You're mine, Wolfram, and I'm yours."

Wolfram fisted him gently. "Of course! I already sent word I never wanted to see him again. I never wanted anybody but you, Yuuri, not from the day I met you. You just… you didn't want… me anymore…" And Yuuri held him through another round of shuddering sobs. "Oh, Yuuri, if I can have you, I don't ever want anybody else…"

"Same here, love. And I want you, oh, I want you so much. Wolfram… let's make love again."

Wolfram laughed softly and wiped his eyes. "I'll need to heal myself up first. That's how I finally realized you weren't a dream. I don't get sore from dreams."

Yuuri laughed and pushed him gently to the bed. "Allow me." And he did a healing spell, and Wolfram did a little healing, and they made love again, slowly and wonderously. At last, lying on Wolfram's naked breast,Yuuri mentioned, "Ah, Wolfram? I guess you would have told the kids I'm dead… Maybe we should do something about that."

"Oh. Knowing Hahaue, Bertram and Efram are probably here by now. But Chichiue would have told them to let me sleep. Conrad and Gwendal came last night. Günter… I hope he hasn't sent the letters yet to Frieda and Greta."

Yuuri finished washing and getting dressed first, and idly went to look at his favorite portrait again. Only then did he notice the nightstand also held a dagger and a large bottle of hard liquor, both unused. Light drinker that he was, if Wolfram had downed the whole bottle, it would have killed him. He tenderly hid both implements of suicide.

They shared a deep kiss and full-body embrace before they left the room. As they walked out, Wolfram held Yuuri's hand so anxiously, he didn't realize Yuuri was clutching his back just as tight.

-oOo-

Yuuri hung back a little as Wolfram burst into the dining room, where Cheri and Manfred stood talking quietly to Bertram and Efram. They all immediately enveloped him in hugs. Tears were pouring down his cheeks. It was Efram who first noticed Yuuri, and pulled back to stare, puzzled. It was Cheri who first said, "Yuuri!?" and Manfred who first pulled him into a hug. Wolfram, overcome with emotion, could only nod.

Bertram, still clasped tightly to Wolfram, didn't understand. Yuuri came up to him slowly, and said, "Bertram, it's me, Yuuri Otousan. I… died. But the phoenix brought me back. To how I was the night we saw the phoenix reborn."

Bertram frowned and looked up at Wolfram, who nodded, still holding the boy tight. Bertram huddled in Wolfram's arms, and accused, "Yuuri Otousan made that story up. He said so."

"No. It was a true story. But when I… got old, Chichiue Wolfram got very angry at the phoenix. He thought the phoenix had redeemed every grief except ours. So, I agreed it was just a story, so you wouldn't upset him."

Bertram still frowned at him. Yuuri had seen him just a few weeks ago, the same yellow-blond hair, with yellow-green roots in winter that lightened to pure yellow in the summer sun. His face and eyes, shaped so similarly to Wolfram and Efram's, but the personality shining in his aquamarine eyes so very different, his oceanic composure so uncanny in a child. At 46, he was about the same age now as Efram when Yuuri met him, shoulder high on petite Wolfram. He was as quiet and beautiful, as the young Efram had been effervescent and cute. Yes, he'd seen Bertram only weeks ago, but Bertram hadn't seen this Yuuri since he was an infant.

"Try touching him, Bertram, you'll see it's true," suggested Wolfram softly.

Bertram gazed up into Wolfram's emerald eyes and read reassurance there. So, still holding Wolfram tight, he reached out tentatively to touch Yuuri's cheek. At first his face remained solemn, gazing into Yuuri's eyes. Then it crumpled in tears, and he flung himself into Yuuri's arms. "It is you, Yuuri Otousan!"

"Yeah, it is me. Oh, I love you, Bertram. I'm so sorry I scared everybody. But I'm really back."

There were lots of hugs, all around. Wolfram just barely managed to get his eyes wiped when they'd start overflowing again. Once Bertram accepted him, Yuuri didn't allow himself to be detached from Wolfram again – he held hands, or put an arm around him, or stood behind with his hands on Wolfram's hips, but he wouldn't let go.

Günter burst in, crying, "Wolfram heika! The body of Yuuri heika is missing!"

"No, Günter old friend – it's right here," said Yuuri, smiling. Then Günter threw his arms around him, too, only to be detached promptly by Wolfram. Frustrated in his attempted embrace, Günter called down the hall to bring Conrad and Gwendal at a run, who instantly threw their arms around Yuuri as well.

"Ah, Günter?" Yuuri interrupted all this. "Have the dispatches gone out yet? Telling people I'm dead? Could we retrieve those, maybe?"

"Ah! The ones to all the Lords were sent yesterday. Several have probably already received them. But the ones overseas just left an hour ago on the courier ship – Lady Cecilie…?"

Cheri smiled and nodded. "I'll go get those back for you. I'll send new ones right away to reassure Greta and Frieda, hm?" And she walked off quickly.

"Bertram," said Yuuri, grinning broadly. "You know, I started something yesterday I'd like to finish. Could you help me build a snow fort?"

Efram laughed, and said, "I'll help, Wimpue." Wolfram nodded, too.

Bertram nodded enthusiastically. He barely remembered a Yuuri young enough to play in the snow with him. "And Yuuri Otousan? Can I stay home from school the rest of the year and… get to know you again?"

"I'd like that very, very much, Bertram."

-oOo-

Yuuri died again 30 years later. He had asked if at all possible, that no one tell Wolfram until he'd been dead at least 24 hours, and they managed that. Wolfram knew what had happened, of course, when his lover returned aged 18 again, in damp shorts and leather sandals. But he was ever so grateful that Günter spared him the half day's worry that this time, Yuuri might not come back.

Wolfram hadn't aged a bit, though Bertram was a young man by then.

Years later, Yuuri and Wolfram died in each other's arms, in a cave-in. The phoenix didn't return then, for there was no grief left to redeem. Mazoku were certain that when lovers died near each other in time, still in love, they would always be reborn to find each other and resume their love. If any Mazoku were born remembering that they had lived before as the glorious Yuuri and Wolfram, they wouldn't have said anything.

Shinou's temple no longer offering an opinion, the Eleven Lords of Shin Makoku unanimously selected Bertram von Bielenfeld as their next Maou.

-oOo-

The End.

Not.

-oOo-

I love reviews… They encourage me to write more.

If you're following along in order, the next story in this saga is Yuuri's Hot Date, wherein a drastic misunderstanding leads to Yuuri and Wolfram taking time out to date others. You might think Wolfram has nothing to worry about, but a marriage ball is in town, for Wolfram's spitting image – as a girl.

-oOo-

Check out my published fiction: End Game. Set in Connecticut, this near-term SF adventure is pre-apocalyptic, where ordinary people choose extraordinary ways to face a climate and world gone haywire.

And my non-fiction: Indoor Salad: How to Grow Vegetables Indoors, E-Cigarettes 101: How to Start Vaping, a smoker-friendly guide, and E-Cigarettes 102: DIY E-Liquid,how to mix your own. Available in softcover and ebook at Amazon.