Why are there so many trees in this forest? Yuuri thought angrily as he snapped the hundredth branch that was in his way. Can't you understand trees? It's not my time to waste! Every minute spent trying to force my way through is another minute for Wolfram to get hurt or fall ill or get lonely or….. Yuuri smiled bitterly. It was his fault that Wolfram is hurt, and here he was, having a mental conversation with trees while the other boy waited for his return. But even at full pelt, his running wasn't apparently getting him anywhere. The tiny stomped path they had followed felt as though it had lengthened impossibly, and the heart-stopping moment when Wolfram was stabbed kept replaying in his mind. Yuuri had to stop as he hurriedly swallowed to prevent the vomit at the back of his throat from coming to the front of his mouth.
Why didn't I transform into the Maou when he needed me?
But that's not a good enough a reason for not even trying to help Wolfram fight those murderers. Even when I'm not the Maou I have more than enough magic to stop an attack. I'm the king of this kingdom, but I was too cowardly to even think about being help rather than a hindrance to him. It should have been me that got stabbed; I wouldn't be as hurt because I have human blood. Why didn't I THINK?
Haunted by the thoughts of his cowardice, Yuuri was greatly surprised to see he had reached the first sentry that guarded the outermost perimeter of the relatively large camp. The man was very surprised to see his crazed and bloodied king approaching him like a madman intent on murder.
"Forgive my rudeness, but I will only say this once: Wolfram is badly hurt because we were attacked by a group of assassins. He managed to scare them away but was too weak to be moved. So I've come here to get help for him. Tell Gwendal and Conrad, and ask them to bring along Giesela. Give Wolfram's sword to them, they should know what it means. And if you are not back here with them in 10 minutes, you will pay. It is not my wish to hurt the innocent, but Lord Von Bielefelt's life is the priority. Now go!"
To his credit, the poor guard didn't start stumbling or stuttering; instead, he ripped a salute that would make any sergeant proud and ran without hesitation into the heart of the camp. Yuuri made a mental note to recommend the man for a promotion. Little did he know, the man was very slightly in love with Wolfram (as was a large portion of the entire Shin Makoku populace. Yuuri is apparently the only one oblivious to Wolfram's charm and attractiveness. Some wonder how this could happen). The thought of his sunlight-blond captain on the ground hurt and in pain gave wings to his feet. It wasn't long before Gwendal, Giesela, Conrad and a few guards were assembled and faced Yuuri with surprised and worried faces.
Yuuri didn't bother retelling the tale; instead he turned and ran, confident that they would follow. The story started falling off his tongue in his effort to give the most information with the least effort. Everyone was quiet, Giesela hugging her medicine chest tighter, a look of grim determination on her face. Yuuri was thankful for that unflinching gleam in her eyes; at times like this, he thought it was entirely possible that she could bring back the dead.
Don't, please don't let it come down to that.
Why hadn't I left him in Anissina's will-protect-anything-Kun?
Her latest invention was a tree-house sized tent. According to the slightly insane inventor, her will-protect-anything-Kun (wpak for short) could keep a butterfly safe in the middle of a raging thunderstorm. Of course, extensive tests had been done. Gunter, Gwendal and Murata were the unwilling volunteers. Out of the 3, Murata had the cushiest job. He was the "tactical engineer", or so he called himself. Basically, The Great Sage had to think up nasty and inhumane ways to absolutely destroy the wpak. Gwendal's brute force and magical abilities were used to carry out Murata's evil-minded schemes for its destruction. In keeping with her passion for accuracy, Anissina of course insisted Gunter stay in the tent (basically as a stunt dummy) regardless of how many boulders come flying his way, or the vicious earthquakes that threaten to suck him into the earth. After having any number of things collapse on him, Gunter finally did find the perfect prototype that wouldn't even tremble at the force of Gwendal attempting to slice through the material (last time they tested with Gwendal's sword, Gunter lost 8 inches of hair and 30 years of his life). At the unveiling, Anissina volunteered to stay in the tent herself and asked everyone to try and hurt her. Several gleeful giggles were emitted before everyone remembered that Anissina was the devil incarnate, and if she got hurt … screams of terror were heard at this point. Suffice it to say, Anissina wasn't even vaguely harmed while she was doing her demonstration. Yuuri was more impressed by the fear everyone had for the red-haired aristocrat than for the invention itself, but he did see the practical uses of an indestructible camp as a clinic in war-torn countries and as a shield for those under attack. Anissina was pleased to have the king admire her work, and had given him a stow-away version that "Isn't as strong as this permanent structure, but still pretty protective" before taking to her laboratory to further shorten Gwendal's, Gunter's and Murata's life span.)
Said tent was buried under his school coats in the castle.
The wpak would have helped Wolfram a lot. Better yet, I should have just locked him in the permanent one in the backyard, when he first got the letter. Yuuri no baka! Yuuri no baka! Violently hitting his forehead even as he ran, Yuuri chanted the mantra under his breath. This is what happens when you take something for granted! I took Anissina for granted, and now Wolfram's paying for it. And I took Wolfram for granted, and all my collective stupidity is killing him. Stupid, stupid. No wonder he calls me a wimp. Yuuri smiled, albeit a bit sadly as he recalled the almost-affectionate insult. Wait for me Wolfram; I want you to be proud of me. See, I've brought along everybody, so now we can rescue you! The Wolfram I know wouldn't have been so inconsiderate so as to die when everyone needs him so. He wouldn't die!
(You stole the sun……. Straight from my heart, from my heart, from my heart!
A quote from my favourite new song: what anyone would feel if Wolfram was kidnapped)
The time taken for the rescue troupe to tramp through the undergrowth to reach the secluded meadow took only minutes, but for Yuuri it felt like decades since he left the green-eyed soldier. Every breath he took felt long and drawn out, every step so unbelievably heavy. It was as though he was swimming through thick, choking treacle, his movements arduous and maddeningly slow. He said he'll never leave me, but even Wolfram can only wait so long. I've disappointed him before, and this time it's going to cost everyone so much more. All because I couldn't help him.
After a lifetime, a panting Yuuri spotted the figure of one of the guards assigned to protect him slumped against a rock. Giesela was by the man's side in an instant, checking his breathing and pulse. "Don't worry your majesty. He's unharmed, merely unconscious." Dusting herself off, Giesela went into her sergeant-and-commander mood, snapping orders at a few of the accompanying soldiers to return to camp immediately with the man, and to fetch and also bring back the other patrolmen. All in fear of the pretty green-haired woman, the soldiers literally leapt into action.
At Giesela's diagnosis of the soldier, Gwendal acquired a frown that wrinkled a large portion of his face. Something was horribly wrong. If these people were really after Yuuri, he expected to see slit throats and tongues cut out.Because no one wants a guard to wake up just as you are trying to murder the king. This felt more like a seek-and-capture than a seek-and-destroy situation. At least the king is with us. Even if it was a kidnapping attempt, Wolfram had apparently wounded them enough to stop them from coming after Yuuri. Gwendal internally smiled. His younger brother's strength in producing destructive fire increased at least tenfold when he got angry. From Yuuri's garbled explanation, he figured that Wolfram was single-handedly responsible for the king's presently unhurt condition. But the uncomfortable feeling of impending doom was present until….
……….…they reached the now-empty campsite. Yuuri was petrified, but he tried to calm down. Knowing Wolf, even in his hurt condition he would have tried to wash to appear presentable to his brothers. So, loudly screaming his name, Yuuri walked around the camp, expecting to hear a weak but irritated reply. He made a full circle before reaching the tree where he had propped Wolfram, falling to his feet and leaning against the now-familiar bark. Looking upwards in hopes of receiving divine help, Yuuri noticed a white piece of parchment flapping against the tree a bit above the crown of his head. Eagerly jumping upwards, he snatched the paper, shouting impatiently for everyone to come and see.
When a lantern was brought to him, Yuuri started reading haltingly. He paled violently and little tremors went through his body as he continued down the page. When he was through reading, he quietly passed the letter to Conrad. Sketching a slight bow to everyone, Yuuri made it to the burnt bush before he vomited what felt like his kidneys and stomach. He was dry heaving, as Conrad read aloud to everyone.
To our greatly beloved sovereign, Your Highness Shibuya Yuuri,
Our mission is complete, Your Highness. We have taken care of the filth that dared to call itself your fiancée. His body is with us, as we do not wish to disrespect your eyes with the sight of his mutilated carcass. Now no longer will Your Highness be troubled by the idiotic brat, and it gives us great pleasure to think that we have removed such an obvious eyesore from Your Majesty's side. Do not worry, the dead Wolfram Von Bielefelt will be treated with more respect than he deserves. This is to appease your gentle nature and dislike of all things unpleasant. Your Majesty, it is almost a guarantee that you will never be reminded of the monstrosity that is Wolfram ever again.
Long live the king!
Us
One could almost believe that this was a cruel, terrible joke, but for the fact that a lock of bloodied, curling golden hair was stuck to the bottom of the manuscript, almost directly next to the signature. The hair had very obviously been hacked off, the edges jagged and uneven. Conrad knew that, at least to some degree, the letter was true. His little brother, who was always so well groomed for Yuuri, would never have allowed his hair to be cut in such a barbaric fashion. At the very least, Wolfram had to be restrained and unconscious before anyone could do such a thing without getting irreparably hurt. And judging by the ferocity of hatred in this letter and the one before, Wolfram's odds for survival were slim to none. Even if he was alive, what he has left to look forward to is torture and a slow, painful death. He'd be too weak too escape, and we know too little to be able to find him. IF, he is even alive…
A blanket of sorrow and silence enveloped the small group. Yuuri had sat down in the hollow where he last left Wolfram, wishing he could have protected his friend at least this once. Conrad was in shock, his eyes once again roaming the letter. What for? thought Yuuri.It's not as though there'll be a note somewhere that says it's all a prank, and Wolfram's getting his revenge for all the times we scared him. With blank eyes, Yuuri looked around to gauge the reaction of everyone else. Giesela was quietly crying for the boy she's known all his life; Gwendal looked like an unmoving, uncaring statue of stone, but it was clear that his heart was breaking; the guards were shocked, their twisted mouths and downcast eyes screaming the unspoken sorrow they felt at losing the captain they all adored.
Ah, Wolfram, you have left me at last. I was wondering when you would, because you're always taking stupid, impossible risks with your life to save mine. But secretly I hoped that nothing would take you away. Because I knew, I knew everything would fall apart if you were lost to us, to me. And now you're gone. I never got to say goodbye. Yuuri was feeling light-headed from the shock. You've made me a single parent! I'm widowed before I'm married. You died wearing Gwendal's teddy hat. How could anyone dream of hurting you when you're wearing such a cute hat? They have no soul, to hurt Wolfram the unbearably cute. Yuuri fought to suppress a giggle, before wondering how close he was to insanity to laugh at a moment like this.
Though barely capable of controlling his own emotions, Conrad knew he had to comfort the king. The distant look in Yuuri's eyes was scaring him. But after a blow like this, how could anyone regain their spirit? Everything felt broken and scattered. However, Conrad knew he had to try. Wolfram would hate to see Yuuri in such a sad state, and would hate it even more to know he had made the young king that way.
"Yuuri" Conrad gently muttered as he kneeled next to the young boy. "Yuuri, don't let this despair overwhelm you. Wolfram would never want to see you like this, looking like the world is about to end. He'd want you to carry on." He gently patted Yuuri's shoulder.
The force with which his hand was flung away surprised him and everyone else.
Shaking angrily, Yuuri stood, screaming at Conrad.
"What do you know what he wants, you stupid half-human? All his life people treated him with complete disregard. You treat your own brother like he's some sort of china doll, devoid of mind and emotions. He wants to hate you, for god's sake! He actively tries to despise you, his own brother, and you do nothing but smile stupidly and walk away! You, who betrayed me once and betrayed Wolfram so many times, betrayed him as a man and a brother so startlingly often, dare tell ME, his king and fiancé, what Wolfram would want! Know your place, you ignorant fool! I…"
Yuuri's mad rant was stopped by a sharp hit in the chest with Giesela's medicine chest. Panting from the force exerted to throw the heavy thing with such force, Giesela pushed her bangs back before fixing a look of genuine disgust on Yuuri.
"Your majesty, you may be my king, but you of all people are not allowed to behave in such a staggeringly stupid manner in the face of such loss. Lord Von Bielefelt may be lost to us, but shouting at his brother and bringing up old hurt is not going to help anything. And, if you insist that Lord Weller has no right to speak of Wolfram, and that you do, tell me, what do you think he wants you to do in such a situation? Recall the times when you and he suffered abandonment. What did Wolfram do? Had he ever behaved in the way you did?" Giesela sighed sadly.
"Your majesty, I don't care if you charge me with treason, but I will not allow you to tarnish Wolfram's memory with your own unstable emotions. It is not fair to him, and it is not fair to those of us who love him." With that, she walked to her fallen medicine chest at the feet of a shocked and winded Yuuri and bent to pick it up.
With the chest in hand, Gisela straightened to step back, but saw the agony and tears in her king's eyes.
"But it hurts so much. I won't ever see him again, and it hurts" Yuuri kept repeating the words, breaking down and sobbing desperately on Giesela's sympathetic shoulder. Rubbing his back, Giesela sent healing magic into the king to calm him and to shroud the pain, for at least a little while. Right now, it was 19-year-old Shibuya Yuuri who needed help, because it was he who was suffering. Not the amiable ruler of the demon tribe, not the overwhelmingly magical Maou, just Yuuri, a young boy who has lost his best friend.
oOo
It was many minutes later before Yuuri felt a slight calm enclose him. From his vantage point off Giesela's shoulder, he eyed the rest of his troupe, his breathing gradually slowing from the harsh pants before. Gwendal and Conrad were in deep conversation far away from him; the soldiers had broken rank and were discreetly guarding the parameters of the meadow. Giesela, he could feel, was still sending soothing magic up his spine, and for once he was glad that in the face of despair, he could break down and still have this friend (with whom he wasn't extraordinarily close) hold him up.
I really don't give her enough credit. If she hadn't stopped me, I might have done something unforgivable. And Wolfram would've been sad. He'd pretend that he's angry, but I know that he'd be sad. Remembering his friend, Yuuri felt light-headed, but with it he felt a core of steel rise through the pain, bringing to light a realisation as to what he could do for Wolfram, and for everyone who loved him.
"Thank you, Giesela" Yuuri whispered into Giesela's ear, "I feel better now. You have healed me yet again." With that he gently pulled away from Giesela and straightened, hearing the softly spoken "You're welcome" before he helped her up to go and see Conrad and Gwendal.
"Your Majesty." Accompanying the words were Gwendal's slight nod and Conrad's smile, as understanding as ever. Yuuri looked at each man, remembering that they must be at least as pained as he was and his resolve to lessen the hurt multiplied a thousand fold.
"Conrad?" Conrad cocked his head to one side and smiled, inviting him to continue.
"I want to say sorry, for all the things I said before. I understand if you can't accept my apology, because I know I was rude and thoughtless and stupid and vulgar and… Anyway, I am well and truly sorry, because I know it hurts to lose Wolfram, and coupled with my harsh and baseless insults, it must make things more painful. No matter how bad I felt, I doubt Wolfram would appreciate me calling someone names. I hate myself, and anything that you want to do with me, well, I give my complete permission. Feel free to run me through with your sword, or…"
Conrad had shushed him. "Yuuri, don't be silly. You don't need my forgiveness. You haven't had as much experience as me in controlling your emotions when you lose someone. Nobody expects you to be unfeeling in this situation, because everyone is in pain. We all loved Wolfram, so stop berating yourself for getting upset. Now, do you have a plan, Yuuri-Heika?" Conrad widened his smile, and though anguish glinted in his eyes, Yuuri knew the smile was genuine.
Gwendal looked on the exchange and heaved an internal sigh of relief. After the initial shock, true to his training, Gwendal had immediately silenced all the howling demons of depression and anger, burying them beneath logical thinking. Forget for a moment that you're responsible for allowing him to go off by himself after he received a death threat. Forget that you are supposed to be in charge, that you are supposed to protect your youngest brother. Hide the guilt, the guilt can wait, the guilt MUST wait. Time enough for wallowing in sadness when he got home, now was a time for action. At the castle though, he'll go to see Anissina and her magic massages-you-thoroughly-to-relieve-stress-Kun. Anissina, by virtue of being his oldest and most beloved friend, was used to Gwendal coming to sit in the lab and just stare at her as she went about her work. He only ever did it when he was stressed to the point of breaking, and the companionable silences apparently made him feel better. Plus, the inventions that Anissina forced him to try during these moments were the only ones that worked properly. There was the water-bath-with-bubble-maker-Kun, the sprays-sweet-smelling-mist-at forehead-every-so-often-Kun, the sleep-like-the-dead-sleep-mask-Kun, and many, many others. These were the moments when Gwendal completely relaxes, and they give him enough strength to start again. So wait, wait until we get home.
"What do you wish for us to do, Your Majesty?"
"We are getting Wolfram back"
Neither man was shocked. In truth, each were beginning to form plans to retrieve their younger brother and would have carried out said plans even if it was against direct orders of the king.
"He died a hero, and deserves to be buried and remembered a hero. I will not allow those…monsters to take his dignity away from him, and I hope that his return, if not in spirit than at least in body, will help to heal the wounds Wolfram's death has caused. He deserves to be buried in the land of the people he loved, and we deserve a place to say our goodbyes and thanks to. They will not take that away from me."
The final sentence was spoken in the same steady voice he had used throughout, but there was an unmoving strength to them that bespoke of hard-headedness and unwavering determination.
We will get him back. Iwill get him back.
Morning dawned, and all hope was not lost.
End of chapter.
Hi again! I'm updating more often aren't I? And the chapters will be around this length from now on, the fact that the first 4 were so short was just me being lazy XD I'll try for more regular updates, and I really really hope people like this fic. God knows it's nowhere near as dashing and intricate as some stories I can think about (coughwhispersintheryecough) , but I still like it. Read and review please! It's the best way to make me author-happy. And tell me if there's anything wrong with my english or characterisation. This is for kuma