First, as usual, my apologies. Work and school have prevented me from doing so much that I would like—like meeting the deadlines I set for myself! However, here it is, chapter 10, and who knew it would be the "Almost" wrap-up chapter. However, as I was writing it, it really seemed to fit. So, I'm not sure what I think about it, but I'm interested to know what you guys think. Gunter, when I write him, always, always surprises me. Maybe that's why it's been so fun. And, btw, I hope you don't feel cheated when I reveal who it was that Yuuri saw on the battlefield, I did try to set it up a bit in the last chapter, but, I admit, you are all savvy. Very savvy, and any of your choices could have been made to work. I just had this one in mind for a while. Ok, 'nuff said? Probably. Thank you so very much for reading, and I'll see you at the bottom of the page…SN
The Twelfth Treasure of Shin Makoku – A Fairy Tale
Centuries ago, reaching back into the deepest recesses of the Von Kleist family a dark and sinister bargain was made. A foul presence desired eternal life. A mazoku of courage wanted to save the people for whom he was responsible. In exchange for the power to extend his natural life, the evil creature promised mercy to those under the protection of the lord. Lord Von Kleist made the bargain, dooming his descendants to an eternity of torment but saving the descendants of his vassals. In his haste to ensure the safety of his people, the Lord forgot one very important truth: A pact with evil is a fool's bargain. For when has evil ever kept its word?
--O.o.O—
Part Ten: Triage—When Assessing the Wounded on a Battlefield, Divide Them into Three Categories: Those Who Cannot Be Saved, Those Who Can Be Saved with Immediate Intervention, and Those Who Can Wait for Treatment.
Orandum est, ut sit mens sana in corpore sano (A sound mind in a sound body is a thing to be prayed for)—Juvenal
Reconciliation should be accompanied by justice, otherwise it will not last—Corazon Aquino
Forget, Forgive, Conclude and Be Agreed—William Shakespeare
--O.o.O—
Shibuya Shori had never been content with Yu-chan's decision to remain the Maou of Shin Makoku. He had objected, in fact, as vehemently as possible to Yuuri's destined role as king in another world—so far from where Shori, himself, could protect him. At first, he was powerless to do anything. Feeling powerless was something that disturbed the eldest of the Shibuya brothers. The quiet young man had accepted his own fate, though he put it off as long as he possibly could. He wanted to finish school, wanted more power, before he became the Maou of earth—not because he was a greedy man, but because he needed to protect his younger brother. Or he felt he did. Shori had been to Shin Makoku before, under desperate, violent circumstances, but that experience had not prepared him for what lay before him as he stepped off the speed craft built by the red-haired demoness. Even Gwendal Von Voltaire, the stoic demon at his side, paled when he saw the destruction, and it was that—the obvious distress of a being so immovable—perhaps more than anything else, that frightened Shori.
Until he saw Yu-chan flying through the air, tossed as though he was nothing more than a rag doll.
"In the name of everything holy—" he cried.
"There's nothing holy here," Gwendal bit out, his sword already in his hand. "Stay here, Shori-sama, or stay behind me, but do not get in my way."
"I have to get to Yu-chan!" Shori shouted, bringing his own power to flare at his fingertips.
"Heika," Gwendal shouted. "Hold on."
The battle became, for Shori, a blur. He did not know what the creatures were that were plowing through the night, blacker than shadows and seemingly without form, but, he found he could destroy them with bursts of his own power. Between his sword and the earth magic he possessed, Gwendal, too, was laying waste to as many creatures as he could—but they seemed unable to move any closer to Yu-chan. Without warning, to their left, a great burst of orange light swept out and over the field, cutting a swath through the shadow creatures' ranks. Before the gap was filled with another wave of blackness, Shori could see the one he knew to be Yozak wielding a massive blade, from which the light seemed to spring. At his back was a man he, at first, mistook for the one known as Von Kleist, but this young man was not…as graceful, was the only thought Shori had time to think. He heard a scream, a woman's scream, as the red-haired spy fell to one knee—a creature's claw having torn a gash across his cheek and shouldered him to the ground. The shadows covered the tall man in the space of a heartbeat, but what happened to him, Shori couldn't say for sure, because he had his own troubles now. Standing at Gwendal's shoulder, he moved in unison, as well as he was able, to advance toward the position where he'd seen his brother fall. Strangely enough, there was a circle around his little brother, a perimeter where no creatures dared cross. But, who was the man standing near Yu-chan and why was there no help?
Then he heard the roar.
Shibuya Shori was no longer afraid, he was terrified. What in the world could make such a sound? It didn't sound like an animal, but the clear note of rage and grief sent shivers coursing throughout his body. Even Gwendal stopped his advance. Everyone and Everything on the battlefield paused, only for the space of a moment, but that sound, alone, robbed the breath of every creature, living or formless. Then the battle exploded again, this time with a fury he could feel.
He heard a dark, shouted growl and to his right, again, he saw the spy emerge from a cloak of shadows, bleeding and unsteady, but his eyes were cold, merciless. It should have been too dark to see them, but there was a cold, preternaturally bright moon and light that seemed to flow from…Yu-chan? Yes, there was a glow around Yu-chan as well. Shori's gaze snapped back to the soldier—the tall half-mazoku was cutting down the creatures with renewed vigor, his sword pulsating with energy. They had breached the small castle behind him and he was clearly charged with defending that structure.
Shori spared no more time for Yozak—the man had his duty. Gwendal grabbed his shoulder and physically moved him out of the way of a snarling shadow-wraith. He heard more shouts and realized that the smug, impossibly calm soldier that was always at Yuuri's side—Weller—was fighting his way through the army of wraiths almost directly opposite his own position. The way parted before him, and Shori gasped before he could help it. The man's right side was covered in blood and the gore of the shadow creatures. Weller-kyo's pale face, however made it clear that the blood was his own. When Gwendal saw his brother, he moved with great speed. Shori followed in his wake, but there were just too many creatures. They could see each other, yet were separated by a wall of darkness.
Shori heard it again—that haunting, terrifying howl.
"Great Shinou!" Von Voltaire choked out.
Shori looked to his left, following Gwendal's line of vision and saw it then. Moving amongst the shadows, deadly grace and unabated rage, was the one he recognized this time as the Von Kleist. But…it couldn't be, could it? This was not a kind, quiet, almost effeminate man. This was…a monster of some kind. The sorcerer's lips were pulled back in a snarl, his face a mask of feral rage. His sword seemed blurred, it was moving with such speed, and before him everything living or dead was destroyed. When he wasn't slashing with his blade, living…magic was swirling from his hand, and he killed without discrimination. He wasn't even looking at his targets—he was a pure destroyer, a taker of life without respect to friend or foe.
"Get back!" Conrad shouted, leaping away from the fray, even as Gwendal grabbed Shori's shoulder and yanked him back as well.
"What…what's happened to him?" Shori cried, trying to reach Gwendal's ears over the din of the battle.
"I don't know," the general yelled back. "I've never seen Gunter like this."
That…that…thing was the mazoku being courted by his little brother? What on earth was Yu-chan thinking? Shori surged forward again, determined to reach his little brother—to save him from such a beast in mazoku form.
"Don't!" Gwendal growled, grabbing his shoulder and hauling him backwards. "Don't interfere. He does not know us—he will kill you, can't you see that?"
"But, Yuuri—"
"I cannot say what has happened, but Yuuri-heika will never be in danger from Gunter Von Kleist. He is trying to get to him, can't you see that. Follow, at a safe distance, that's all we can do—it's the only way to get to the Maou."
Wind whipped around Shori's face, and he could feel the sudden thickening of the air. As rain started to spatter, he saw his little Yu-chan rise up from the ground, completely suspended in the air. His hair, too long, his eyes, cold and knowing…Shori frowned, it wasn't Yu-chan, at all…it was Shin Makoku's king.
The fierce demon lord continued to dispatch the enemies blocking his path, until, finally, he was at the side of the Maou. His rage, however, had not diminished, and any thing that so much as moved near him fell before the sharp edge of his sword. Conrad made his way to them, then they were all bathed in an orange glow as the spy's blade sang out with light—clearing a swath across the field entirely.
"Grab on!" Conrad shouted, sinking his sword into the ground and holding fast. Gwendal understood, and did the same. Shori realized why when he saw the wall of water coming from the river he'd just traveled. He threw his arms around the general's waist and held on, waiting for the first blast of water to hit him.
It never did.
When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, surprised that he was not wet and drowning, he saw he was in a bubble—a barrier of some kind. The Maou of Shin Makoku was smiling, a small, knowing twist of his lips, and watching.
"It's Morgif," Conrad said, panting with effort. The soldier was clearly injured.
Shori looked around to see that water was, in fact, roaring through the field, wiping away the wraiths, those still moving and the carcasses, too. But…where was the other man? The blonde man? Shori couldn't see him anywhere. So, he was an enemy?
"Did you think a little tidal wave would be enough to stop me?"
Shori spun around on his knees to see the blonde man strolling, casually, amidst the swirling water, approaching the king. Gunter, his face still twisted in deadly anger, lifted his sword and growled deep in his chest. It was a bestial sound—not in the least resembling a civilized being.
"Peace, my beloved," the Maou said, coming down to rest his feet against the now soggy ground and his hand on the tall mazoku's shoulder. "I know your despair, but all will be well."
"Gyllenhaal!" Gwendal gasped, gaining Shori's attention for a moment.
"Who's that?" he asked.
"One of the heads of the ten families." Conrad muttered, slipping and sitting awkwardly. His hand was sticky and red where it was placed to his side. Shori frowned. He might not like the man, or trust his intentions with Yu-chan, but a soaking wound in the side—that was no way to die on the battlefield.
"An interesting form you've taken," the Maou said. "Does it please you to commandeer the bodies of my people? Did you think I would simply ignore your actions?"
"I think there's nothing you can do about it…even now, your power is failing. I've killed the boy, and without him, you can't survive long."
Shori choked, stunned. Even Gwendal shook his head slowly, as though he couldn't comprehend. Gunter's anguished wail resounded, echoed around them in a tone of such loss that Shori began to shake. Only Conrad didn't seem to react, and that was because, Shori realized, that the soldier couldn't. He was lying in the mud, his breathing rapid and shallow—a strange sucking sound coming from his chest. It was then that Shori saw the other wound. Without thinking, he moved, scrambling to the soldier's side. He tore off his shirt, and pressed it onto Conrad's chest, trying to stem the flow of blood.
"You thought I'd let you harm him? You must not remember me at all."
"Release your hellhound," the blonde said, nodding toward Gunter. "I own him. I own his entire bloodline, and there isn't anything you can do about it. The contract is valid, as well you know."
"Foolish being," the Maou said, shaking his head. "The power you seek, the unnatural extension of your already long life has driven you mad. There comes a time for everything that lives to move on, to change planes, to exist elsewhere. None of us are spared that final journey but by your selfishness—your greed, you have tormented those under my protection. It is not my nature to interfere, as I did not interfere when the original bargain was struck, but you have broken your word, and therefore, I will keep mine. Gunter Von Kleist never stepped out of the protection of the King. Therefore, your life belongs to me. This is my word."
"As if I'm afraid of your promises? What are you king of, anyway—a nation of fools? Of profligate heathens? You should all be on your knees worshipping me. You have, none of you, power like mine—I am a god among men!"
"Perhaps," the Maou said, smiling, "but we are not men. And I cannot allow evil such as yours to exist. It is not my nature to take life, to rip from the innocents the protection of blood, but your treachery and murderous actions have left me no choice. If you are, as you say, a God, then release my retainer—whose body you have stolen—and face a worthy opponent. My will is that you challenge me, that is my sentence, that is my punishment."
"The boy is dead…there is no battleground." The blonde scoffed.
"You're wrong," the Maou replied. "He is safe, inside of me, and…you cannot best him."
"You're offering me the boy?" The being inhabiting the body of Lord Gyllenhaal sounded too excited.
Shori did his best to hold back, but he couldn't. He looked to the Maou, intending to shout, to scream, to demand his little brother back, but the black-haired king only nodded to him. Something in the Maou's expression silencing Shori's tongue.
"I offer you nothing but the challenge. You cannot win, but you will try."
"Heika," Gwendal said softly. "What are you doing? This is one of the ten Lords."
"Von Voltaire," the Maou said, gently. "As the Von Kleist family has borne the burden of feeding those shadow creatures, so has the Gyllenhaal family borne the burden of housing their master. Is anyone perfect? Is any being without sin? Has not the Gyllenhaal family earned peace even as much as the Von Kleists? Trust in your king, even as I do, for I feel him inside of me, talking to me, and let justice be done."
"Such beautiful sentiments—but I've had enough."
The blonde man formed a sword from the air and rushed at the Maou. Before Shori could move, Gunter stepped in front of the king, his teeth bared. The blades rang together, and a bright flash of light blinding Shori for a moment. When his vision cleared, Lord Gyllenhaal lay on the blood-soaked, muddy ground, and Gunter stood over him, sword poised for the kill.
"Hold, Gunter," the Maou said. "For it is not Lord Gyllenhaal who is your enemy. Release your anger now, your pain. I need you now, Lord Von Kleist. I will need you all, now."
Shori watched as the king of the demon nation slowly reached out and pushed the arm of the tall, lavender-haired mazoku. Gunter lowered his blade and remained close to the king's side…his eyes beginning a strange change. They had been dark, almost black, but in the first rays of morning, Shori could see they were changing, lightening, until they were almost purple, then lighter lilac.
"I have…just enough time left," the Maou whispered.
Shori moved away from Conrad's side, allowing the king, the being who was both his brother and not his brother, to kneel by the wounded mazoku. Blue light glowed from the Maou's hand, his healing mujutsu washing over Conrad Weller, closing his wounds and restoring his strength, at least in part.
"H—Heika?" the soldier asked, confused, as he opened his eyes.
"Be still, my lion, for just a little longer. The morning has come and you have all fought well. The shadow creatures will not return, but this battle is not yet ended. Gunter, come to me…"
Shori looked to Gwendal. The General was frowning in earnest, his brows drawn together. Gunter approached the Maou, a blush staining his cheeks. Shori wanted to demand an explanation, to shake them all until someone told him what was happening to Yu-chan!
"Come, let me rest my head in your lap," the Maou said to Lord Von Kleist. "Shibuya Shori, your brother still lives, even as I live. Since he was a child he has housed me inside of him, protecting me as much as I have protected him—protected you all."
The king's dark eyes flickered. He closed them, then opened them again. Gunter sank to his knees, then sat, and Gwendal helped the Maou adjust until his body was held in the protective cradle of Gunter's arms.
"We are…one, Shibuya Shori. I am Yuuri and he is me. We are…one, and yet not. He fights now, inside of his mind, our mind, but it is his power now that will save you, not mine."
"How can we help him, Heika? I cannot go inside of your mind to protect him," Conrad whispered.
"You will know when he has reached his victory, or when he has been overcome. Then Gunter will know what to do…"
"You would not ask that of me, Heika?" Gunter gasped. "I cannot do such a thing!"
"You can, and you will. This is my command to you, Gunter Von Kleist. You have sworn your fealty to me, have you not?" The Maou asked, reaching out to brush his fingers over the ring Gunter wore on his right hand.
"I have, Heika," the man said, tears slipping, then streaming down his face.
"Then if Yuuri is successful, you will bring him back. If he is not…you will put an end to this menace the only way possible. I will have your word."
Gunter Von Kleist's face was a study in tragedy. Shori realized, then, what the Maou meant. If Yuuri did not defeat this evil, then Gunter would have to kill the body, in order to kill the entity inside.
"Yes, Heika. You have my word."
"Gunter, Conrad," the Maou whispered. "My love and my strength. Don't fail me…or him. Take us inside, now…the morning has come."
"Heika…?" Gwendal asked.
"We will all meet again," the Maou promised, then his eyes closed, and he just seemed to slip away.
--O.o.O—
Shibuya Yuuri sat on the metal bleachers overlooking the baseball field where he'd played as a youth. It was a warm day, a sunny day, and the park was filled with people—strangers he'd never seen before. He might have guessed it to be a Sunday, since there were people picnicking and children playing, running in circles engaged in a raucous game of tag. There were no ball players on the field, though on the riser at his feet were two ball gloves—his own catcher's mitt and the glove Gunter had been oiling the first time Yuuri'd seen him in his dreams.
Gunter.
He blocked the thought from his mind. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to think about Gunter falling before the menace that had attacked them all. He wanted, instead, to think about the children in front of him, the warmth of the sun, and the light breeze that stirred his hair. He didn't know if he was dead, though he suspected he might be, but that hardly mattered. Not knowing what happened to Conrad, to Gunter, to the others, was far worse.
"Heika!"
Yuuri looked up, his heart thundering in his chest. He knew that voice—that wonderful, emotional, much desired voice! Watching Gunter rush across the field toward him reminded Yuuri of his adjutant of old. He was as he'd always appeared whenever Yuuri came swimming up into the fountain at Shinou's temple—his lavender hair flying behind him and a bright smile on his face so wide that his eyes were nearly squinted closed.
"Heika! Have you been waiting long? Forgive me for being late, I beg you. I just could not bear to be separated from you!"
Yuuri found himself enfolded in the too-tight, awkward embrace he'd come to recognize as Gunter's standard greeting, but it somehow seemed…off.
"I—I haven't been here too long," Yuuri said when Gunter finally released him. "At least I don't think I have. I've just been sitting here."
"I am so glad you waited," Gunter said, taking Yuuri's hand in his and pulling him to his feet. "Now we can go together."
"Go together where, Gunter?" The young king asked. "Is it time to go home?"
The tall man paused, his smile softening. "Well, yes and no. We can never return to Shin Makoku, but I have the feeling where we are meant to go is somehow home, don't you think?"
Yuuri hesitated, confused. "Then…then are we really…dead?"
"Walk with me, Heika," Gunter said, drawing Yuuri's arm through his own.
Yuuri didn't hesitate. He reasoned that at least if he was with Gunter, then he would be safe. But…dead? Could they really be dead? If that were so, then why didn't he feel…well…dead? Was this really it? A baseball field in a park, in summertime? Was that his afterlife? It all seemed a little…anticlimactic.
"I didn't think it would be like this," Yuuri said quietly. "Where are Conrad and Yozak? Are they ok, do you think?"
"I can't answer about Yozak, because I do not know," Gunter said as they strolled through the park, weaving through families and the children at play. "Weller-kyo left before I did, I believe. He is dead. So…I believe we must be as well."
"Con—Conrad?" Yuuri gasped, tears stinging his eyes. "My Conrad is dead?"
"Yes, Heika. Conrad is gone."
"No," Yuuri whispered, refusing to believe. "No, you're wrong. Gunter, you're wrong. He's not dead. If he was…we'd be together. No, Conrad will be ok, he has to be."
"Heika," his lover said softly, reaching out to brush his hands over Yuuri's shoulders. "Would you rather it had been Conrad to come for you, after all?"
"No, Gunter…I don't mean that. You know better," Yuuri said, his tears coming faster now as he flung himself against Gunter's chest. "It's just…it's just I never thought this would happen. I never thought we'd…just die. We said…we said…" He couldn't finish.
"Hush, Heika," Gunter said, stroking his hair. "There's no need for tears now. We can be reunited, I'm sure of it. I don't know…exactly…what will happen now, but I do know that as soon as we cross, we can be together. All of us, I'm sure of it. All you have to do is let go. I'm with you, and you needn't be afraid."
Yuuri shook his head, crying still. "What do you mean, let go?"
"Of all this," Gunter said, sweeping his arm out to take in the entire park. "Isn't this your place, Heika? The place you go to in your mind when you are frightened and hurt? You have to let go of this now, so we can cross."
Yuuri pulled back and looked around. Was Gunter right? Was this his haven? Had he created this place, even before he'd met his adjutant here in his dreams? He tried to think. When he was just normal, plain Shibuya Yuuri—before he'd ever heard of Shin Makoku or knew there were such things as demons, much less that he was part demon himself, he had loved this place. He remembered it from his own childhood. There had been countless picnics with his family, any number of baseball games, walks with Murata—much of his life had taken place right here, in this place.
"Will we be together?" Yuuri asked, his voice rough with tears.
"Of course." Gunter replied, still stroking his hair. "All you have to do is let go of this place, Yuuri. Just come with me to the bridge. Once we each cross, we'll never be parted again."
Yuuri looked up, and there was a bridge. He didn't remember there being one before, but if he was dead, and he supposed he must be, then it shouldn't be a surprise that a structure would just appear out of nowhere. The bridge crossed a small stream and while it was bright, sunny and green on this side, there was a grey mist enshrouding the far side of the bridge. The mist wasn't ominous at all. In fact, Yuuri felt nothing but peaceful as he gazed on the path he was meant to walk.
"Heika…come, let's go." Gunter said.
Heika.
"Gunter, why are you calling me Heika now?" Yuuri asked. "If we're dead, I'm no longer the king, right? Use my name, ok?"
"Very well…Yuuri."
Yuuri.
The young Maou hesitated, a feeling of apprehension blooming inside of him, making it hard to breathe. He couldn't quite figure it out, but something was wrong. The voice was right, certainly, but the cadence…the inflection just seemed…wrong. He took a few more steps.
"Gunter?"
"Yes, Yuuri?"
Again the voice was just wrong. "Did you see Conrad die?" he asked.
"Yes, heika. He fell before the wraiths, just as you were injured. I'm sorry. I couldn't save him."
Wrong…all wrong! Yuuri tried not to panic. He had heard Conrad. Before he passed out he had HEARD his knight calling for him, and Gunter…? Yuuri would have bet his kingdom that the moment he had been injured, Gunter lost his grip on his temper and succumbed to his range. He would have been more likely to kill Conrad then, rather than save him. The Maou looked around him, Yes, this place was even slightly wrong. This was not only his haven, it was Gunter's too. But Gunter's touches were not in the scene. The sky was just slightly off—the wrong shade of blue. The grass was kept in the fashion of earth…the way he had always envisioned it, but in his dreams with Gunter, the ground had been manicured by hand, the way he'd been accustomed to seeing in Shin Makoku, and if the being next to him had really been his lover…wouldn't he have at least kissed him by now? Surely he would have been kissed and caressed, and Gunter's strong arms would have held him tenderly. No, this was all wrong.
"Gunter," he said, slowly. "I'm not ready. Let's go back and talk for a while. Maybe have a game of catch."
"No, Heika," the tall man said, urging him forward with a firm touch. "We really must go. Can't you feel the time slipping away?"
That was it. There was no way Gunter would ever say no to Yuuri—not about something like this. Gunter had waited a lifetime, several lifetimes, for Yuuri to arrive, and even then his adjutant had never pushed the king to give more than the affection Yuuri had felt at the time. Gunter waited for Yuuri to like him, then grow fond of him, then as he matured, he waited finally for Yuuri to fall in love with him. Through it all, Gunter had never forced him.
"Gunter…I don't know why but it seems important. What are the Eleven Treasures of the Maou? I was the Maou, so I suppose I mean, what are my treasures?"
"That's an odd question to ask just at this moment, Heika, but, easily answered. The Maou of Shin Makoku has possessed, over the ages, Eleven Great Treasures: Morgif, the demon sword. The Mateki. The Mirror of Ages. The Four Keys to the Forbidden Boxes that were hidden in secret, The Oracle of Shinou's temple, the people, the king's castle, and the throne."
"You do know your history," Yuuri said softly, stepping back from Gunter's embrace. The beautiful man was smiling.
"But you're not Gunter," Yuuri said, his voice stronger. "And I am not dead."
He wasn't prepared for the change he saw in the being currently mimicking his lover. The face that had been Gunter's melted away, morphing in a kind of smoke to reveal and equally beautiful, though far fouler feeling presence. It was not Lord Gyllenhaal, of that, Yuuri was quite certain. He didn't know why the Gyllenhaal family was involved at all, but that was a puzzle to be solved once he got himself out of this mess. What had happened, then, on the grounds of Heyerdahl? He remembered being tossed through the air, landing hard, and before he lost consciousness, he'd seen one of his Lords staring at him with malicious intent. He had heard Conrad, vaguely he thought he remembered even hearing Gunter, but then he had ended up on the battlefield. He tried to remember, even as he scrambled away from the being changing before his eyes. Had the Maou taken over? Something about that felt right. Yes, the Maou had taken over and Yuuri was…alive. He was where the Maou usually was, then, on the inside, in his mind, and everything was happening here. He spared one more glance for the bridge leading into the mist. Peace still radiated from it, beckoning him, offering him solace. Yes, that part was real, that place was real—a respite from living and eternal peace if he so desired.
But, Yuuri had no intention of walking into his own death. Not today. Clearly he was here to fix something, to make something right—perhaps to save Gunter, and Conrad and all the others. He felt a sense of calm wash over him—the sense he recognized as the Maou. He was right. That was what he was meant to do. He was meant to defeat the creature before him so he could go home. Long ago, before he had become the real king of a real nation, Shibuya Yuuri had loved video games, especially role playing games where he was the hero and had to battle many bosses before he could rescue the princess. Well, he had a lover to rescue now, he was sure of it…and this thing before him, despite its now painful physical beauty, was as evil as anything he could imagine—even the unspeakable evil he'd fought to release Shinou from his lasting torment.
"You will cross that bridge, twenty-seventh Maou of Shin Makoku." The demon, at least Yuuri thought it was a demon, growled at him. "I was going to spare you, make it easy for you, but if you want a battle, so be it. Your adjutant and your knight are dead—others, too. It's time for you to join them."
"No they aren't," Yuuri said, crossing his arms and wishing, more than anything, he had some sort of weapon with him. "They're not dead, and you're just lying. I admit, you almost convinced me, but, you're wrong. I see through you now, so you can just stop the games."
"Your soul is so powerful," the brilliant beast said, licking its lips. "I can't wait to feast on it. The Von Kleists are a powerful family, and have sustained me for longer than even I can remember…but your soul is so tasty, so delicious. I will live forever once I consume you."
Yuuri could feel his power, slowly ebbing, trickling out of him. "Do you really want to live forever? What's the point in that?"
"Power, foolish king. You have never understood power. For the years you have reigned, I've watched you, and still, you hold on to a child's desire for peace. You have denied me and my kind our rightful sustenance—those souls lost to battle. When a mazoku dies in torment, or a human dies in agony, their souls flare and sustain me, nourish me. It is a just end for you, then, the king who has starved us nearly out of existence. If it weren't for the Von Kleist family, we might have died out by now."
"What are you?" Yuuri gasped, clutching at his chest.
"I am Chaos," the beautiful monster replied, standing over Yuuri as the younger man slipped to his knees. Waist-length blonde hair whipped around Yuuri's face. He looked up and could barely make himself stare at the demon's inexpressibly blue eyes, his perfect face, his beautiful form. How could anything so spectacular be so terribly evil?
"Chaos isn't a person," Yuuri said, feeling a stronger pull on his energy now. "Chaos is a concept, a disorder, a state of anarchy."
"And, yet, I am chaos…I am a god, or didn't you believe in them, demon king?"
"A god?" Yuuri asked, smiling for a moment. "A god doesn't need to feed on demon souls, or human souls for that matter. A god exists outside of our meager existence, right? That's always what I was taught."
The being before him raised a brow. "Are you denying my divinity?"
"Well, yeah," Yuuri said simply. "Look, I know you're powerful. I can feel that. But you want me to die believing you're a god? I don't think I can do that."
"I really don't care what you believe, heika," the creature said, mimicking Gunter's voice. "Just as long as you die—that's enough for me."
"Have to catch me first," Yuuri said, turning on his toes and sprinting for the bridge. He didn't know why, but he knew that if he made it across first, his soul would be safe—even if it meant his death. And there was no way he was giving up his power, his memories, or Julia's, to this nefarious monster.
Fear, he thought, was a great motivator. He recognized the beast's snarl, as he gave chase. This was the creature that had hunted Gunter, and himself. Running for the bridge, Yuuri bent at the hips and gave every ounce of speed he had, and then some. He didn't know how long the creature had been alive, but he was certainly fit. Yuuri could feel his hot breath lifting the hairs on the back of his neck. But, he was almost to the bridge. He kept pushing, forcing his muscles to work, pumping his legs faster, so that he felt like he was flying when his feet hit the bridge. He was almost halfway across when he felt the creature's hand hit his shoulder. Then, he tripped. It was nothing more or less than that. The twenty-seventh Maou of Shin Makoku tripped over his own feet, and landed, face-first on the boards of the wooden bridge. The creature, still snarling, stumbled forward and howled even as he flailed into the mist beyond.
--O.o.O—
Gunter Von Kleist cried, a lot. He knew that. The man he loved, and his family knew why. Still, he hadn't thought he had water enough inside of him to make this many droplets. As he had carried the slim body of his young lover into his ancestral home, tears streaked down his cheeks. He ignored everyone—his mother, his sister, his oldest friend, everyone save the Maou and Conrad. In his heart, he didn't mind sharing the next hours with the younger half-mazoku. He had a feeling that Conrad alone could really begin to understand what he was feeling—he was, after all, the only one who loved the Maou as much as Gunter did.
Together, he and Conrad carefully bathed the body of the young king. Physically, his hair was still long, appearing more the Maou than the Yuuri Gunter loved with all his heart, but regardless of appearance, Gunter held on to the hope that whatever was happening inside of the young man's mind—his Yuuri would find his way back to him. After Yuuri was clean and dressed in soft, fresh pajamas left for him by Alese, Gunter had left his side only long enough to bathe himself. When he returned, Conrad took his turn in the bath. When the soldier returned, he brought a little food and news with him. Alese had taken over care of Yozak. The spy had injuries—a couple of nasty gashes and some bruising, but he was alive and would recover. He was sleeping now, Alese watching over him as cautiously as the two retainers watched over the Maou. Gwendal and Shori were physically well. Gwendal was seeing to the needs of his soldiers—the ones still alive, while Shori and Gunter's mother saw to the dead.
"Has he moved at all?" Conrad asked.
Gunter shook his head. "Not yet. But he has been peaceful."
He felt awkward. The unspoken fear flowed between the two conscious men as they stared down at the sleeping king. If the worst happened, Gunter knew that he would do as his Maou commanded, but he didn't need to verbalize the truth that he would not long survive Yuuri if he was forced to do the worst. His soul was entwined inextricably with the Maou's—and if Yuuri were to die, Gunter would be pulled into the afterworld with him. It was a journey he would gladly make, however, because grieving the king's death was not something Gunter had the strength to do.
"Lay down, Gunter. You're exhausted," Conrad said.
"And you're not?"
The soldier only smiled. "I have no place in Yuuri's bed, Gunter."
"I don't think he'd necessarily agree—at least not under these circumstances."
Gunter slipped out of his shirt, bare but for his soft sleeping pants, and slid in between the covers, on Yuuri's left, turning so that he could stroke the Maou's hair. "It's a big bed, Conrad. And, as a very wise, very handsome king once told me, he needs us both—you on his right side, me on his left."
"Are…are you sure?" Conrad's lips thinned into a frown.
Gunter could feel the man's desire to be close to Yuuri and his hesitancy to offend anyone.
"Conrad, how long have we known each other?" Gunter asked, gently.
"Almost my whole life, I suppose."
"Have I, in all that time, lied to you?"
"Of course not. We've disagreed, many times, but I believe we've always been honest with one another."
"Then won't you trust me when I tell you that there is nothing he would want more than for the two of us to be here when he wakes? He loves you, and I do, too. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that there is more than one path for this to take? Maybe you really did spend too much time on earth. They are a very close-minded people."
Gunter's smile took the sting out of his words, and he felt a little easier when Conrad nodded, and began to divest himself of his shirt. When he was dressed much the same as Gunter, he, too, got into bed—on Yuuri's right side. The king's retainers adjusted, shifted, and found comfortable places, curled around the sleeping body of the Maou. Gunter continued to stroke Yuuri's hair, and Conrad brushed his fingers over the younger man's cheek.
"Will you marry him, Gunter?" Conrad asked suddenly.
"I will if he asks me to," Gunter replied, honestly. "I don't know if he will—but in my heart, I hope he does."
"If you do…don't be like my mother. Don't misunderstand, I love her with my whole heart—we all do, but Yuuri isn't meant for multiple marriages. He loves freely, yes, but he's not free with his love."
"I know," Gunter said, reaching over the king's head to trace the one, small tear that slipped down Conrad's cheek. "You shouldn't grieve, Conrad. Give him some more time, let him grow in the manner of our people…he is a strong man, a strong king—the best we have ever had. I believe that in my heart. I never really thought I would have his love, even though I desired it so much…because of his deep attachment to you. Right now, he can only conceive of one love, one partner, and that is to be expected, considering how he was raised. If he asks me, yes, I will marry him—I swore to stay by his side, always, just as you have. In time, he will see that loving us both does not mean he needs to choose between us. You should already know that."
"How can you be so…understanding?" Conrad asked, shaking his head.
"My mother is the seer, Conrad. Not me. I don't pretend to always know the future, even if my magic is strong. All I really know is that I love this man and am devoted to him. I always will be. I have cared for you, too, for many years—more than Yuuri can even imagine, yet. Experience tells me that together, truly together, the three of us are stronger than any single pair."
"He has told me he does not love me as he loves you," Conrad whispered, sliding down in the bed, and laying an arm over Yuuri's waist.
"That it is different doesn't make it any less strong, or true."
"Maybe. I…I just wish he would wake up. I feel…I can't even say what I feel without him."
"Then you begin to know what he felt when you were absent from his side during that dark time before he saved Shinou."
Conrad nodded. "He forgave me, then. I hope he will forgive me for failing to protect him this time."
"There is nothing to forgive. His nature demanded he fight for us. He always will. Yuuri-heika will never ask his subjects for that which he will not do himself. That is part of why he is the great king he is. One day, I believe he will be known as the greatest of kings. I believe that."
"If he wakes up…"
"He will," Gunter said, quietly. "You must believe that, and hold it fast in your heart. I don't know what is happening now, but I can feel him—his soul crying out to me. He is hurting and confused, so right now he must be made to feel our love and devotion, Conrad. I know you are quick to say you have no magic, and as a half-mazoku it is drummed into you from birth, but how do you explain your sixth sense about his majesty? Why is it that you are always the one first to know when he has arrived from earth? Let him feel that connection between you now. I don't know for sure, but I think he needs to know we are here."
"Can you…can you reach him?"
"I'll try. You'll watch over us?"
"Always," Conrad said, nodding.
Gunter closed his eyes and started to focus his mind. It was hard to settle, to clear his thoughts. He was sleepy, but his worry for Yuuri flitted through his thoughts, making it hard for him to balance. He needed to calm himself, to reach a state of peaceful quiet before he tried to slip into unconsciousness. So, he focused on his beloved…the younger man's laughing eyes, his smiling lips—the way he clung to Gunter's body when they made love. Remembering these details, anticipating holding the young Maou in such a way again, brought Gunter a sense of contentment. He would see Yuuri again. He would hold him. He would love and cherish him, and they would have a life together. All of them, just the way it was meant to be. Gunter let his consciousness go, seeing nothing now but a soft darkness, and let his exhaustion and his belief in Yuuri-Heika carry him to sleep.
He found the Maou sitting on the rail of a bridge, bleeding from a scrape on his chin, and his palms red and raw. Looking at him, even from a distance, Gunter could see that the knee of one of his pants leg was ripped and that was bleeding, too.
"Heika!" he shouted, breaking into a run. "Are you all right?"
"Gunter?" Yuuri asked, holding up his palms to stop Gunter before he could pull the younger man into his arms. "Gunter is that you?"
The older mazoku did not like the hesitancy in his love's voice, the suspicion in his gaze. "Of course it's me, Yuuri. What's happened? Where…where is the shadow-creature? Are you alone?"
Yuuri canted his head to the side, gazing at Gunter—his expression slightly less chilly than before. "Gunter…where is your home?"
"With you, Heika…wherever you are, Yuuri—that's my home. I've told you this before." Gunter held out his arms, still confused by the his lover's lack of movement. What had happened? Shouldn't he be in Gunter's embrace, even now, and quite possibly kissing his lips into a state of permanent bruise?
The king closed his eyes, dampness sticking his lashes together. "Gunter…I have eleven treasures. Do you know what they are?"
"Why are you asking me these questions, Yuuri?" Gunter said, exasperated. "Please, my love, won't you come to me?"
"Just…just can you tell me?"
"I have already taught you about Morgif, and the others, but those are the treasures of every king." Gunter could feel himself blushing, but this was obviously very important to Yuuri. "You, though, have eleven treasures of your own," he whispered. "A book of poetry, an acorn, a painting and a mirror, a knife, a jewel, a flower, a vial of Von Kleist philter, a square of cloth, a ring—though I am wearing it, what it represents is your treasure—and a love-knot, made of my hair and yours, these were my courting gifts to you, Yuuri."
"Thank you!" Yuuri breathed, leaping off the wooden railing and slamming into Gunter's chest with enough force to nearly knock the air from the taller man's lungs. "It is you, it's really you!"
"Of course it's me, Yuuri!" Gunter exclaimed, holding his lover tight against his chest. "What are you talking about? Tell me what happened."
"I will, but first…are we alive? You and me, and…and Conrad?"
"Yes, we're alive, my love—all of us. Conrad is watching over us and we three are in my room, in Heyerdahl. We are safe. My darling, Yuuri—tell me what's the matter? You're crying!"
"I was here…I was waiting or something, I don't know. Just, here in the park. And you came, Gunter, and we were talking, and you wanted me to cross this bridge, and go into that mist. You told me we were all dead, all of us, and that we could be together if we just crossed the bridge. But something was wrong…it wasn't you. Because you didn't say my name right, and when I asked you about the sequence of events, they weren't right. And, when I asked you what my treasures were, you rattled off the eleven of the national treasures. So, when I knew it wasn't you—it changed, into some…thing. He was so beautiful, but he was cruel, and he thought he was a God, but, really, I am sure he was just the soul of a creature gone mad. I ran, here to the bridge…"
"Heika!" Gunter cried, realizing first what it meant to cross into the mist, and on the heels of that epiphany, realizing how close he'd come to losing his love. "Heika, did you mean to—"
The young man nodded against his chest. "I thought if I could get there first, I could save the rest of you. Because he was hard on my heels, really chasing me."
"What happened?"
"Well…he went in and I didn't."
"But, Yuuri," Gunter said, holding him so tight that he thought he might actually crush the boy this time, but his irrational fear told him to clutch the Maou—what if he accidentally got pulled into the mist now. "How…how did the creature go through the mist and you did not?"
The Maou mumbled something against his chest.
"I didn't hear you, Yuuri, say it again?" Gunter released his iron-grip only slightly, allowing the king space to breathe.
"I said…I tripped." The Maou muttered.
Gunter didn't know why. He would never really be able to explain why, but the image of his beautiful Maou, running for his life, ready to make the most heroic, self-sacrificing gesture ever—then tripping and ruining the entire scene—sent him into a paroxysm of hysterical laughter.
"It's not funny, Gunter!" Yuuri growled, smacking him on the arm.
"I'm sorry, Yuuri!" Gunter gasped out between laughs, the tears streaming over his lashes having nothing to do with sorrow. "I'm really sorry, but, yes..yes, it is!"
"I know it is," the king muttered, chagrined, then laughed, too.
"I love you, so much," Gunter breathed, gasping.
"I love you, too, Gunter."
The king leaned up, then, stilling his adjutant's laughter with his lips. Gunter's protective instincts welled up inside of him and he cradled the younger man's face in his hands, kissing him thoroughly, alternating between passionate demands and loving questions. "I love you, Yuuri. I love you."
The king finally pulled away from his mouth, staring up at Gunter with a lazy, contented expression. "I will never get tired of that," he vowed, nuzzling his cheek into Gunter's chest.
"Good." Gunter put his arm around Yuuri's shoulders and guided him off the bridge. "I was thinking, perhaps, you'd like to go back now? There is, after all, someone other than me anxiously waiting for you to open your eyes…and others, too, who will need to know you are well."
"Is…is Conrad all right?" Yuuri asked, biting his lip.
"Physically, he's going to be fine. When the Maou took over, he healed Conrad's injuries, but, your knight is worried about your safety, as we all were. And, he needs to know you love him, Yuuri. That you will forgive him, needless though it may be, for not protecting you."
"He's never going to change, is he?" Yuuri asked, smiling up at Gunter. "He's always going to worry like this, isn't he?"
"Probably," the tall mazoku conceded. "I have taken a liberty, Yuuri, and I hope you will forgive me, as well."
"Why?" The young man asked. "What did you do?"
"I told Conrad that it would make more sense for the three of us to be together, always. I don't want him out of my life, and I know you refuse to have him out of yours."
"Of course," Yuuri agreed, reaching out and running his fingers through Gunter's hair. "We'll all adjust eventually….and, Gunter?"
"Yes, my love?"
"When we wake up, before we go through all the headache and aftermath of all that's happened…will you keep your promise?"
"Of course, Yuuri. It will be just as I said—this day is for you, anything you want, everything you want…the whole day is yours."
Yuuri leaned up, then, and kissed the corner of Gunter's mouth. Gunter felt himself blush all over again. He didn't know why such a simple touch could set his heart pounding, perhaps it was the smoldering passion he saw in his lover's midnight eyes.
"I have another treasure, you know," Yuuri said, softly.
"What's that?" Gunter asked, easing the King back into his embrace.
"It's you, Gunter." The Maou whispered in his ear. "You're the twelfth treasure of Shin Makoku."
--O.o.O—
Once upon a time, a beautiful demon lord fell in love with his king. He held his feelings in secret, hiding the depth of his passion even as he trumpeted his devotion from the castle parapets. When the demon lord fled the castle, his heart broken, due to the prevarication of a once-jealous prince, the demon-king followed, determined to bring his wayward love home once again. Along the way, a brave soldier, a daring spy, a stalwart general, and an overprotective sibling became involved in the adventure, and they all faced a great and terrible danger. Just when it appeared that all was lost, and the demon-king might lose his love forever, fate intervened, and through their courage, strength, and most of all, their love—the companions and lovers were brought safe home again.
This is usually the part of the story where we say that they all lived happily ever after, in peace and prosperity, for the rest of their days, but there is a saying in Shin Makoku: All endings are beginnings if you only turn the page…
Wow, I'm late! And I'm sorry. I have one word: Exam. So, So very sorry. Anyway, I hope it wasn't too disappointing. I'm going to answer reviews now, and the next chapter ends it all. But, I have loose ends to tie up, and things to bring to fruition here. I'll see what I can do with it tomorrow, since I am off work, FINALLY! Yippee! There may be an epilogue, I'm not sure. OK, really, I'll answer all mail by tonight. Thanks again, everyone, for being so kind and patient! I really, truly appreciate it! I'll be seeing you…SN