I deeply, honestly apologize for the unbelievable delay with updates. But I have my computer back now and I promise, I will not abandon this story halfway. Thank you everyone for your wonderful comments, I will always take that into account and I hope my grammar is actually better now. Cheers everyone.
X*X*X*X*X

8. Keeping the bridge over the water

Time dragged on slowly, like dripping oil. The afternoon was heavy and sepia, surrounding her like a too warm and tight sheet. Looking up at the sky, she could see lazy cotton shaped clouds, peaceful, soft, too perfect.

Lady Cecile was sitting over green grass that gently bended under her weight, an unnatural breeze caressing her arms and face. Her black dress spilled around her figure, its delicate material waving at the afternoon air.

And around her, in a perfect circle, eight purple crystal candles were shining brightly.

She tried to get up, but her legs were shaking so badly she couldn't even lift her body. Frustration was painted in her features just as clear as the unshed angry tears in her eyes.

"Good evening my lady"

Cecile gasped feeling her heart picking up, and looked around in anxious fear, her thin fingers closing on the fake green grass.

"Please… you do not need to look so -fretful".

Cecile tried to look in the direction of the voice. Knowing full well she would regret it, she narrowed her eyes and focused what little energy she had left to clear her vision.

The sky in front of her began to dissolve like fog during the morning, slowly… excruciatingly slowly, she started to see how the perfect illusion around her began to crumble, leaving patches of grey brick walls bare to the eye. The sudden gasp of the man echoed behind the fog, and gradually his own figure started to make itself visible.

Cecile groaned as a flash of pain shocked her brain, the fog around her closing up instantly. She could hear the man taking a step closer, while the perfect sepia sky took form again.

"My lady, please do not try that again... it would only be troublesome for all of us if your energy were to collapse" said the man, sounding strangely anxious himself for the first time.

Cecile said nothing, forcefully biting her lip and fighting the waves of nausea.

"I am here on regards of your son" informed the man with courtesy.

"Don't you dare touch my boys!" shouted Cecile, her eyes closed tightly.

The crystal candles, made of houseki stones, flickering lively around her.

Footsteps reverberated over stone, circling around Cecile, but she could only see hills around her, an illusion of freedom surrounded her in her brick prison. It was terrifying, and Cecile tried her best not to hyperventilate at the thought that no matter how much she tried, her attacker could be just behind her, and she would be too late to protect herself –always too late.

The ghost of a touch over her shoulder made her gag in fear, and hold up her arms in that direction. She called on her maryouku only to feel the now familiar unstoppable emptiness that ran through her veins, just as sure as her power used to do.

"I intend to do so much more than touch." said the man in a low voice. "But enough talk. You know what I need now my Lady, so if you would please-"

"I will kill you for this" hissed Cecile through gritted teeth, holding her head between her hands, tears falling freely now.

The footsteps around her stopped. She hold her breath.

"You wrong me" said the man, sounding deeply wounded. "And your reticence disappoints me. This is for Wolfram's behalf, and even if everyone else has forgotten, even if you are not willing to help... He has me. And I will always be loyal to him. I believe in him," a pause "even if he fails to believe in himself".

"Leave him alone" whispered Cecile, feeling all strength leave her body, her arms shaking so badly she had to lay down over the fake green grass.

Before losing consciousness, she could feel someone standing right in front of her.

"You do not understand, but that is alright. I do, and I will fix everything".

X*X*X*X*X

Someone took hold his heart and pulled. Once, twice, hard. Pulled till his heart came out and his body followed in desperate pieces. A part of him wanted to scream, another part of him wanted to reach out for Yuuri, whose arms had been around him a second –an hour, a year, forever- ago. Some savage part of him roared in fury, at being unlawfully separated from him.

Wolfram reached out, hand stretched in front of him, his strong fingers open in desperation, grasping, searching and clutching tightly on to something. He couldn't see, he could barely breathe, and fear rose like a violent tide up his throat.

His back arched with a spam and someone yelled in the distance, with his voice.

"Wolfram!" cried someone else above him, and suddenly he was being held down, strong hands pushing his shoulders back.

Abruptly he could see his uncle's worried face above his own. Looking around in confusion, he recognized his own bedroom in the castle, sunlight coming through the open windows in an intense beam of white light that made him squint.

"He's… back" said a familiar voice with dismayed relief. Quick footsteps followed confused movement around him. Wolfram closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to make sense of everything and hoping the room would stop spinning soon.

"Do not ever do that again" whispered Sven ardently, sounding a few steps behind Waltorana. "Please, never ever…"

"Wolfram what happened?" asked the stern voice of his uncle, looking at him piercingly. His voice unyielding and sever. Wolfram knew this meant he was dead worried.

"Wh-what?" was all he could ask, his throat bloody dry. What had just happened? Where was Yuuri?

"Your heart stopped. We thought you were dead" said Alois, Sven's older brother. His voice trained to formality revealing nothing, only the deep lines around his eyes betraying his worry. "He healer left about five minutes ago, said there was nothing to do".

A moment of absolute confusion.

"I sent a maid to get you, after you didn't show for breakfast" said Waltorana, still pale, holding on to the high wooden head of Wolfram's bed for support. "She said you were not waking up… Fedor, the Castle's healer, said your soul was leaving your body, the connection was so weak that at some point it must have broken. It broke, Wolfram. What in the name of Shinou happened to you tonight? Where were you?"

With Yuuri. The words ghosted over his tongue before choking on his lips.

"I don't know" he said instead.

Sven wiped off some tears with a jerky movement of his hand, then walked closer sitting on the bed, next to Wolfram. Wolfram looked down at his hands, not wanting to met his eyes.

"My throat… is dry" said Wolfram weakly.

Sven nodded "I will get you something".

"Alois, go with him" ordered Waltorana.

"How long should we take to bring water, sir?" asked Alois swiftly.

"Ten minutes should suffice, and bring Fedor back with you."

Sven stood quickly and walked out, his shoulders stiff, clearly upset at Waltorana's dismissal. Alois nodded and after a worried glace at Wolfram, followed his brother, closing the door behind him.

That left Wolfram with Waltorana, who after a few stretched seconds of silence took a chair near the window, facing the bed.

Wolfram looked up at him.

"What happened?" asked his uncle gently. It was such a severe change on his usual voice that Wolfram was forcibly and strangely reminded of his own deceased father. Sighing and realizing just how worn out he actually felt, Wolfram took a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes in a tired gesture.

"Did I die?"

"You did, for at least twenty minutes"

Wolfram gulped.

"What happened'" asked his uncle again.

"I… I talked with Yuuri"

"Him" Waltorana hissed.

Wolfram could feel his cheek beginning to warm up at that. Considering he had been dead just a minute ago, he was surprised he could blush.

"Him" he said, unnecessary.

"So His Majesty decided he could just summon away your soul. His Magnificence thinks he can kill you, so he can talk with you whenever he pleases…"

Wolfram looked up at his uncle, surprised. "That's not-"

"It is! King Yuuri summoned you to whatever plane his power chose, just so he could… what exactly? What was so important, that he risked your death? What was so urgent that he couldn't wait to send a pigeon or a messenger on horse? That is of course if he is in our realm."

Wolfram was left speechless. He didn't think Yuuri meant it that way, probably Yuuri didn't even know what had happened. Wolfram himself wasn't sure all of this was not just some crazy delirium.

"He didn't pull me to him! We were apart, we were separated. I was the one that-"

Wolfram put a hand to his lips, startled. He remembered now. It had been him –him the one who had made the choice to leave the safety of his fire cell to follow Yuuri's voice. It had been him the one who had walked out the fire fortress of his own existence, the one who had left his body behind to travel in that way that only a soul could.

In some basic instinct, he had chosen Yuuri over his own life. It was terrifying.

Finally nausea won and Wolfram had to stoop down on the side of his bed to throw up, shaking in fear and realization. The shaking didn't stop even after feeling his uncle's strong arms holding him up. And when Fedor the healer was back in the room, he looked startled and pale, just as someone who is watching a ghost come to life would look.

X*X*X*X*X

Someone shook his shoulder gently, and Yuuri woke up, blinking at the light on the ceiling.

"Wolfram?" he asked confused, his voice coarse with sleep.

Yuuri turned and saw Murata's face instead –and for a moment the look on his face was vexed and annoyed, and that was strange enough to make Yuuri blink and look again. Murata's placid gesture was back. He smiled.

"No, not Wolfram… but 'your wise man' is not that bad, is it?"

Yuuri smiled back in reflex, even though his mind was flowing with what had happened while he was laying down, apparently sleeping. On that strange bridge that somehow, Wolfram and he had built. He licked his lips, and Murata's eyes followed the gesture for a second before he pushed himself away, standing up next to Yuuri's bed.

"It's almost time for breakfast" said Murata sharply.

Yuuri nodded for politeness sake, but he didn't think he could eat anything. His stomach was nothing but a tight knot, his whole body vibrating with –what? Anxiety? Apprehension? Expectation?

Still sitting on the bed, Yuuri looked up to the calculating look on Murata's eyes.

"What is it? Did you have another nightmare?" asked his sage.

"Not really"

"You sure? You said 'Wolfram'" said Murata, now facing him fully.

And if Yuuri was sure of a single one thing right now, it was that those words that Wolfram had said to him during their time together, were words for his ears alone. And he would take them to the grave.

He nodded, standing up and looking around for a change of clothes. Murata stood a moment longer on the spot, but then turned and left the room to give him some privacy.

Yuuri felt light headed because for once, he had not been the one to run away from that intimacy with Wolfram. He had been taken away from it, woken up in the middle of it.

And it was intoxicating to realize the kind of power he had over the other man's heart, over Wolfram's raw emotions and all consuming need.

He wasn't sure how to react to it, what to do with it, but one thing was at least clear: he needed to go back. There was something enormous going on, and he needed his Wolf by his side. As friends, or something else, he wasn't sure, he couldn't know yet…

He looked up, buttoning up his black shirt just in time to see his reflection on the room's mirror. He looked young, and average, and naïve. And yet he knew he couldn't be any of those things, because there was a kingdom and a man's heart that needed him to be back home, protect them, and make the right choice.