11. Something to call familiar among the unknown
This act isn't a Comedy, Wolfram thought sourly, heavy lidded eyes tired but sharp on the man in front of him. Comedies were meant to be fun.
He had had to dance among the lesser nobles who had oaths of fealty to Bielefeld, flirting with the disguised suggestions that smell like demands, whisper sweet threats that sounded like polite greetings, and charm his way into their hearts, awakening their precariously frail respect and not a small and healthy amount of fear.
The man sitting across the desk nodded to something Waltorana, who was standing by the window, said. And Wolfram gave his consent. They signed a contract that stipulated that the man's company would be Bielefeld's main source of coal for the next thirty five years. They all shook hands, and the four hours meeting was finally over. The rich coal merchant left, escorted out by Waltorana himself.
That made five of the seven lesser noble families. Five of them would stand by their liege, the other two had reminded stubbornly silent.
Wolfram stood up, and stretching he arched his back till it gave a pleasurable pop, then walked to stand in front of the window, where he stood for a long time till he saw the lesser noble leave, with a satisfied look on his face.
He felt sick to his core doing this. Staying put while his mother was still out there, but he knew there were people out there looking for her. And he was making sure that she had a place to come back to, a position where others wouldn't demand her supposedly treacherous head being cut off. His mother was the only reason he was playing the Lord of Bielefeld façade.
A knock on the door.
"Come in" said Wolfram, not turning back.
Sven walked in, looking as tired as Wolfram felt. It had been four terribly chaotic and stressing days. And when Sven came to stand by his side, and looked into his eyes, Wolfram knew that they were just going to get worse. He handed up a letter with Yuuri's seal, and Wolfram's heart raced in his chest.
Yuuri.
He hadn't had any more dreams, or visions, or whatever it had been. He hadn't heard from Yuuri and that had been a constant, heavy and all-consuming fear that threatened to devour him from within. And his fear of rejection made him feel petty, because there were so many more urgent matters that demanded Yuuri's attention. The desperate, delirious proclamation of a rejected partner was not a priority.
Wolfram bit his lip and opened the letter, expecting to see Yuuri's familiar handwriting. But it was a message from Gwendal, and it was as succinct as it was dispassionate. It stated how proof of high treason had been found, and the leaders of the Teen Noble Families were being summoned to Blood Pledge Castle immediately.
"It is happening" whispered Sven, looking up at Wolfram.
Wolfram nodded, feeling startlingly calm. He licked his lips and looked out the window again.
"They are scared" said Sven, pointing to the letter in Wolfram's hand.
"As they should be. One of them is guilty of setting this whole circus on us".
"What… what are you going to do now, Wolf?"
Wolfram looked at Sven, and felt the familiar tug of friendship at the full trust and slight awe in his eyes.
"I am not sure how, but I promise you, I will fix everything. I will settle down this chaos once and for all".
"You sound like a proper Lord now" answered Sven softly.
Wolfram chuckled bitterly. "No, I sound like Yuuri".
X*X*X*X*X*X
Greta hugged her pillow, burying her face in it and inhaling deeply. The calming lavender scent of the fine linens was familiar and comforting. It was very late, and she was half asleep already. Her body felt warm and heavy, and the natural lullaby of the rain outside was a constant background that soothed her deeper into sleep.
Distant thunders outside could be heard occasionally.
Her breathing became deeper, slower, her small hand half open over her pillow.
There were a few seconds of nothingness, when suddenly a powerful thunder erupted outside her bedroom. She woke up gasping, clutching her quilt tightly in her hands. The room was dark and her eyes were half open, when a suddenly lighting turned everything around her into its negative: a bright room with a figure standing at the feet of her bed.
And she could feel her mouth go dry, her eyes widen in surprise. It took her a few seconds to question why the room was still illuminated, as if the lighting had been frozen in time.
A scream was building up in her throat when the figure put a slender finger over his lips, and smiled in what he obviously thought was a calming manner. There was nothing calm about this, and Greta could only think about the sword she didn't have, the sword she didn't know how to use.
"We do not have much time sweet child, so listen to me" said the man.
He was tall, but he was also blurry, as if watching him through a rain soaked glass during a storm. He was blonde, maybe. Greta rubbed her eyes quickly and sat on the bed, looking around. The whole room looked blurry.
"You are sleeping" he pointed out. "I never meant to burden your young mind this way, but you are the only living being in this castle that is receptive enough to my… calling".
"Weak enough" Greta cut in with insolence, then covered her mouth with her hand, surprised by the bite in her own words.
"You are not weak Greta, you could not be even if you tried. But that is not why I am here. You need to listen to me and convey a message of the utmost importance".
Greta looked at him with distrust clear on her face.
"When you wake up, you will go to Gwendal, and tell him that the only creature capable of traveling between dimensions right now, is Wolfram von Bielefeld. You will tell him to send Wolfram to Earth, because Yuuri is in danger".
Greta looked at the man, frozen in fear. Because she knew this man, she recognized him now, and he wouldn't lie about something like this.
"You will tell Wolfram this exact words 'Yuuri is the one blocking it', can you repeat that now?"
"Yuuri is the one blocking it" repeated Greta, her voice weak.
"You will also tell him… to look out for my Sage. He is just like the moon, after all. He needs a sun, someone to look up to, and shine for. To tell him, that I am not angry" at this, the man looked away, obviously conflicted by his own words.
Greta struggled to remember all that, and nodded.
Shinou looked back at her, and smiled.
"Thank you, Greta Shibuya".