3 – Bottled Future

When Ulrike told Conrart what his mission was to be, he was stunned. Shinou wanted him to take charge of the soul of the next Demon King? Before he thought, all the poisonous doubts that he knew would occur instantly to every full-blooded mazoku came boiling out of his own mouth. Trust a half-blood with so important a mission? What could they be thinking?

But Ulrike only looked at him calmly and reiterated her command: that he, Conrart Weller, take charge of this soul, and fulfill the Great One's will or not, as he saw fit. And then she stunned him further with the revelation that the soul was Julia's – and that she, too, had trusted him with her future.

Beside the impossible fact of that triple trust – Shinou's, Ulrike's, and above all, Julia's – the other details of the mission hardly seemed startling at all. Traveling to another world to oversee the birth of the next Demon King was far less improbable than relying on a battered half-human to carry out such plans. Conrart left the temple in a state of confusion, to spend a day arranging for his long absence.

His preparations mainly involved packing his few belongings for storage. The temple had already informed Gwendal in his official capacity; no one else needed to know more than that Conrart would be away on a lengthy mission. He took a brief, private farewell of his mother, assuring her repeatedly that he would be safe doing the temple's errands. He could see that she did not quite believe him, but it was the best he could do.

Then he went looking for Yozak. He found him in the barracks, cleaning his gear, and gave him the news.

"An extended mission for the Shinou Temple, huh?" Yozak said. "Well, at least it sounds like a change of pace. How long?"

"At least a year and a half," Conrart replied. "Maybe as much as three years."

Yozak nodded. "That's extended, all right." His mouth twisted, and Conrart could practically see the words he wasn't saying: They needed someone expendable, so they picked a half-blood. Somebody who won't be missed if things go wrong. "Have a good trip, Captain. Wherever you're going." Good luck. You'll need it.

"Yozak..." Conrart hesitated. There were things he didn't want to say in so many words, either. "Don't do anything too stupid while I'm gone." Be here still, when I get back.

"Don't worry about me, Captain." Yozak looked away, then back with a poor attempt at his usual grin. "But if you expect me to cover your job here for three years, you're going to owe me at least a month of free drinks afterward." You're the one that needs worrying about, Captain. You damn well better come back, no matter what kind of suicide mission they're sending you on.

"Two weeks," Conrart said firmly. I'll be back. "They aren't giving me hazard pay for this, and the way you drink, that's all I can afford." It's not as dangerous as you're thinking.

Yozak stared, then grinned more naturally. "If the temple is that cheap, I suppose two weeks will have to do. But it had better be good beer." If you say so. But it had still better be good beer.

There was no one else for Conrart to take leave of. He went back to the temple, and sat staring at the glowing orb within the fat glass bottle. Julia's soul. He could feel a reassuring warmth from it, and if his heart had not already been broken it would have shattered at this evidence of her continued faith in him, in humans, in peace. How could a bottled soul know of the deaths, the corrosive hatred, and the fear that had made a mockery of words like "peace" and "trust" and "co-existence?"

He could not even hope that when she became Demon King things would change. Even if her new incarnation somehow retained her belief in harmony, humans and mazoku had proven that they could never live together. Nothing could change that. Almost, he said as much to that tranquil sphere in the little bottle. Almost. But something in that serene glow kept him from speaking his despair aloud, though he was more than half certain that the soul would not be able to hear or comprehend his words anyway.

The sound of soft footsteps behind him made him turn. Ulrike stood in the doorway holding a stack of folded cloth. "Suzanna Julia Von Wincott freely accepted the will of the Great One," Ulrike said gently. "I will not tell you not to grieve, but take comfort in the knowledge that she chose this fate, and chose you to be the guardian of her soul."

"Chose me – Is that why..." Is that why she exhausted herself to keep me alive? Is that why she died?

Though he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, Ulrike seemed to know what he meant. She shook her head. "You will be needed in the future to serve the next Demon King, Lord Weller. Suzanna Julia knew that, just as she knew it was her time to move on."

To become the next Demon King. Conrart nodded dully. He understood duty; it was almost all he had left. A tiny, nameless voice in the back of his mind wondered briefly whether he could be proud to serve a king who had Julia's soul, but he squashed the thought almost as soon as he recognized it. Duty had nothing to do with the merit of the one it served. Wishing for a worthy king was the road to more disappointment.

In that moment, he almost hated Julia for doing this to him. For placing her duty and Shinou's will and the presumed good of Shin Makoku above her life, for using his hurts to facilitate her passage from this world, for leaving him behind with nothing but duty and false hope and the ashes of the dream she had died for.

Ulrike watched him with wise eyes, and handed him the strange clothes she carried. "Please put these on," she said. "I will wait outside."

Conrart could only nod. When he had donned the unfamiliar shirt and slacks, he tucked the bottle into the pocket over his heart and opened the door to meet Ulrike. She smiled, and escorted him to the main hall of the temple for the ceremony that would send him to the other world. Earth, she said it was called.

Next: 4 – Road Trip