Chaper 16
The scent of ozone filled the air. The lectern broke and the ancient tome flew apart—scattering well thumbed, illuminated pages throughout the little shrine. The ragged-edged papers fluttered against walls and pews. With Wolfram out of the chair and crushed in The Maou's possessive embrace, the chair tipped over and crashed to the floor in a shower of splintered wood. A pulsing, blue and white whirlwind engulfed Wolfram and The Maou with the Demon King's husky voice speaking the word "beloved."
Wolfram's vision had already faded to black. He reached out for Tra'va one last time to hold her, to say "goodbye." But, instead, she grabbed him and latched on.
"Damn," she hissed under her breath.
"It didn't work, did it?" Wolfram said. He rested his head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry I wasn't enough." He rubbed his blond locks against her, wanting to be soothed. A hand stroked his hair gently leaving a slight tingle on his scalp. Everything that Wolfram cared about melted away in that moment. He decided it was best not to think about Yuuri or The Maou—or even his family. Wherever his soul would go or whatever happened to him next would be beyond his control anyway.
"I love you," Tra'va whispered in his ear.
He huffed a laugh. "You're always telling me that," the blond countered, pressing his face in the curve of her neck. The long, red fox hair was tickling his face again. With a little hesitation, his hands found their way to her narrow shoulders and caressed them. "But you've never asked me to say it back to you."
He heard a slight chuckle. "I know better than to do that," she said with a lilt in her voice, "because your heart does not belong to me…and I don't want to force you into a lie for my sake."
Wolfram frowned at that. He did. Some part of him knew that the spirit could read him, understand what he wanted, and accept the person he loved without explanations or apologies. "I'm…I'm sorry, Tra'va." His words were sincere. One sided love was hard, almost impossible. He'd lived with it for so long, and he knew how it could eat at you as the years slowly passed.
"But some part of me cares for you…deeply."
A fox smile played on her lips. "Yes…yes, you do. And, for me, that was always enough."
Like a monochrome sunrise, the place where they were standing brightened into a steely grey.
"I'm not sorry about everything we've done," she said with a gentle voice. "The only thing I regret, though, is that it ended this way."
Then, small clouds of steam began rolling up. The fingers curled and stretched. The temperature grew hotter and there were suddenly walls surrounding them. A smooth, slick amber colored floor appeared beneath their bare feet.
"What's happening?" the blond asked, hearing his voice echo for the first time, and then he looked down at himself. He had only a damp, semi-transparent towel wrapped low around his hips. Add to the fact, he could see that his fingers were now laced around the back of Tra'va's neck. She was wearing a large, white beach towel. Her red fox hair was hanging limply from her head in thin, twisted strands that were wet from the steam and humidity.
"Tra'va?" he said, patting her face gently. She felt real—even more "real" than when she was inside of him and touched soul to soul. "This is…you…right?" Trouble felt warm, and not just from the steam, either. Gently exploring, he slid his palms over her face, neck, shoulders, down her back, and along the folded, leathery wings which were the color of espresso.
Real…whoa…!
He knew that he should have felt embarrassed. But the two of them had an intimacy that few could really understand. He caressed her body a second time the same way with absolute wonder.
"Be careful there," she said in a sexy tone, "among my kind, you just proposed." She snickered at her own little joke when she saw Wolfram blush beet red. "Well, stroking my wings like that is the equivalent to having someone run fingers up your thigh." She pulled the blond closer against her and smiled down at him. A tiny fang popped out.
Wolfram's eyes widened and, through their bond, she could feel his heartbeat pick up. "And you're almost good enough to eat, too."
"…Eat…?" He said vaguely, as though the word was slipping through his mind.
She put two fingers under his chin and tilted it up. Then, the same hand smoothed back blond hair from his eyes. "I just might kiss you someday, you know." Tra'va's lips neared his, teasingly.
"I wouldn't doubt it," he said, coming back a little more to himself as the seconds ticked on and her lips didn't move any nearer.
Wolfram cocked his head to one side and wondered if anything she'd just said was true or not. Foxes were crafty, even flying ones, but he could be crafty, too. He returned the spirit's smile and was about to threaten to steal her fluffy towel when he saw her red eyes flash and her breath hitch.
Red eyes glared at the rolling steam to her right.
"What?" Wolfram said, worried now.
Tra'va's first instinct with Wolfram was to protect. Now, their bodies were pressed so close that he could feel her muscles tense up.
"We're not…alone," she said with an edge to it. "Something's in here with us." She chewed her bottom lip for a second, thinking fast. "Place your hand on my shoulder and do not let go." Tra'va wiggled from Wolfram's grip and stood before him—wings expanded just enough to shield all view of the blond. If something, some demonic spirit, was going to attack them. She'd meet it first and deal with it.
Her head moved right and left—tracking the thing. But, it seemed to be everywhere. Nowhere. How?
Wolfram took a shallow breath when she flicked out her talons.
"Tra'va?"
"It's okay. We're together."
Wolfram set his jaw at that. He felt useless again. Just to see if it would work, he silently called upon his fire magic. Nothing. Not even a spark. He'd given it all to Tra'va. He rested his head against her back in frustration--and got a sideways glance and a pleased smirk from a face with red eyes .
"Was that black place from before 'the void'…or is this it?" Wolfram whispered.
"Neither," she said back in a hushed tone. "Both were too bright from what I've been told." The fox spirit took two steps forward and Wolfram followed.
"Something's cradling our souls…Here…but not here…"
"Then, where are we?" Wolfram demanded. He ran his fingers through his mop of blond hair and flipped the damp bangs back.
She scanned the rolling, billowing clouds with her squinted eyes, distracted by his question. "Away…we're away, Wolfram…"
The steam was getting thicker. Stray ribbons of white seemed to drape around them.
The blond frowned and leaned against her back to whisper, "That tells me nothing."
Tra'va rolled her eyes at that. "Fine then," she grumbled. "My theory is that we're in a confined metaphysical plane of existence which differs from the standard modes of the 'conscious' and 'subconscious' that individuals are capable of perceiving."
"You learned that from one of your hosts, didn't you?" His mouth was a thin line. Eyes narrowed, looking off into space.
Red eyes shot sideways. "My response to that would be a sincere and loving 'Duh'."
Wolfram scratched his head. "Okay," he said slowly, "so…we're 'away.'"
"Isn't that what I just said?"
"Yes, but how did we get here?" Wolfram demanded. He wanted to yell in frustration, but got a grip on himself instead when something moved.
The blond peeked over Trouble's shoulder to see the shadow of a form approaching them. It walked with a graceful but purposeful gait. Wolfram's grip on Trouble's shoulder tightened. Then, everything brightened to a glaring white and Wolfram, throwing an arm across his eyes to block out the light, disappeared from behind Tra'va.
Trouble turned, panicked, not being to find him or even sense him. No…NO!! She clawed at the rolling whiteness—hoping to hit something. But, before she could call out to him, a voice said, "I have a job for you."
The fox spirit, recognizing the voice took two steps forward in defiance. "You!" Her face twisted in anger. "I suspected this had something to do with you. Fire magic and water magic combined creates this," she complained bitterly, waving away a curling puff of steam.
"You guessed correctly."
Two water dragons formed beside Tra'va, flanking her, and snaked away into the distance, disappearing behind rolling clouds of hot water vapor with a roar.
She lowered her head, shaking it as she did so. This really pissed her off. She was being pushed into a corner. "A job, huh? Is this for the greater good?" she asked suspiciously, arms folded against her chest.
"You will have no regrets."
She straightened up with a heated glare. "Then," Tra'va said, following the water dragons, "I will go with you." As she stomped off barefoot, she added, "But I don't want to go off parading myself in a towel. Get me some better clothes, damn it!"
Yuuri walked through the rolling clouds of steam. A little disoriented, he continued on in what he hoped was one direction until the rolling puffs parted suddenly and there was a wall. He made a right turn and went on in the same manner.
He glanced at the floor and what little of the ceiling he could make out. "I think I'm in the royal baths," he muttered to himself. "And, if that's so, I should turn here and go on until…" He took a few more steps and then quickly pulled his leg back when he saw the edge of the tub and water.
"Okay, so…now that I know where I am, how did I get here…?"
Yuuri heard a sound. No, sounds.
"Eh?"
Nearing to the place where he expected the door to be, he could just make out a woman's voice chanting from somewhere far off in the distance.
The double black found the door to the bath, opened it, and took a right. "I know I am in Blood Pledge Castle. But, where is everyone?" His head turned left and right.
All was still. Quiet. Unnaturally so.
The sound of a woman's voice continued to get louder and louder. "It's…umm…this way…?" He turned down another hallway and realized that he was going into the Throne Room. And he stepped in, but got the surprise of his life.
His throne was gone. The room had been expanded somehow. It was unnaturally large and wide. The walls had been painted a soft gold color. And the room was also decked out with green, hand woven tapestries hanging from the ceiling and folds of white silk fabric piled up all over the floor .
The double black stepped cautiously into the room, fearful that he would slip and fall on a silk covered marble floor. But, oddly, he didn't.
Yuuri scanned the room with his eyes and saw Tra'va with her back to him.
The fox spirit had a solid form now—which he had not seen since the night she had kissed Murata while sitting on his lap. Trouble was wearing a charcoal colored sarong skirt tied into a knot at her right hip, a tight half shirt in dark blue, and her long, red fox hair pulled away from her face, tied up neatly in a black gauze scarf.
Tra'va looked over her shoulder suddenly, noticing Yuuri. Her sharp features couldn't hide her misery. And, her beautiful fox eyes had tears falling through the lashes.
"Oh…It's you," she said in a wet voice and turned her attention back to…
"Wolfram!" Yuuri said, running across the floor now to join them.
A long, irregular slab of crystal with the edges nipped, chipped, and cracked, was supported by four legs of hard, cold steel that were pointed on the ends like diminutive swords. Eight centimeters above the narrow platform, Wolfram's body floated. His hair gently billowed, as though immersed in water. His clothes, a white tunic top and trousers to match, did likewise.
On either end, there were two copper fire pits with wrought iron leg stands. The deep basins were already filled with wood chips and some sort of exotic spice that Yuuri couldn't quite make out from its scent.
"What are you…?" Yuuri began to ask. But, the fox woman turned, glared dangerously, and returned to her work.
Trouble cupped her hands together humbly.
The double black cringed a little at the crudeness when she spat a flame into her hands and it blossomed out. She moved to the first fire pit. Dipping a finger into the flames, she removed part of it and began to paint with the fire. Yuuri stood there, impressed. The image was of a blazing star. She moved to the second fire pit, her sarong swaying against narrow hips with each step. Above it, she drew a mountain. Again, the details were beautiful, perfect.
"We belong to the heavens and to the earth beneath our feet." She suppressed a sob, but Yuuri could hear it. "We come, gain knowledge, and we return..."
Tra'va raised her hands and the fire-pictures dripped like molten lava into the fire pits, casting them ablaze with a cruel fury at the first touch. Orange and yellow tongues flicked at them. Yuuri took a step back, but stared, confused, at Tra'va. It was almost as though she wanted to be burned and welcomed it with hands stretched out.
Sweet smelling grey smoke billowed out, spreading across the floor.
Then, taking it no more, Tra'va dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hands. She cried openly, not caring that Yuuri was in the room.
"Trouble, tell me… This isn't really Blood Pledge Castle, right?" He knelt down. "So…why are we here?" He tried to touch Tra'va's shoulder, but she shrugged it off. "I know it's not real. It's just made to feel like we're here…" He stood. The double black approached Wolfram and wanted to touch him, too, but pulled his hand back—as though afraid to break the frail magic that supported his body. "What's wrong with Wolfram? Why is he like this?"
When she didn't answer, he began to worry. He said louder, "Tell me!"
Trouble sniffed and removed her hands. Silver trails shined down her face. She stood, forcing herself up with great effort.
"He gave me his fire," she said, fighting to keep her voice even and failing miserably. "There's nothing left. There's no hope."
Yuuri shook his head, disbelieving. "He's right here, isn't he? We'll find a way," the double black said forcefully. "We'll put you where you belong, and we'll get Wolfram out of this somehow. We will!" He approached the fox woman and grabbed her shoulders, trying to get her to believe him. No, he needed her to believe him. Then he stepped around her, and came as close to Wolfram's body as he dared.
Tra'va glared at his back. "You don't get it, do you?"
"What?" He fumed in a tone he usually reserved for Wolfram.
Trouble balled up her fists. "How many times, Yuuri? HOW MANY?!" she suddenly roared at him, venom dripping from every word.
His angry black eyes met hers but couldn't comprehend why she was saying it.
"How many times do you have to come close to losing him before you finally see it? Before you understand it?" She squeezed her eyes shut and yelled, "What's wrong with you?!"
"What are you talking about?!" Yuuri shouted angrily, eyebrows knitted together. He was frustrated. All the two of them ever did was fight. And this was not the time for it.
"Just look at him!" Trouble said, pointing a finger. "I've tried sacrificing myself so that he would live…so that he would go on." Her wings flapped hard, pushing with a hard gust at the floor. "And, what have you done for him?" An angry tear fell from her face. She wiped it away impatiently with a fist. "Even now…" she said while she stepped towards him, "would you trade places with Wolfram? Would you trade your life for his?"
Onyx eyes widened at that.
"Had there been hope for only one of you…who would you have chosen?"
Yuuri clinched his fists and cringed at the thought of them being separated.
"Then…and now…," he said with his eyes in shadow, looking down, "I choose him. I want him to live."
"A lie," Tra'va roared back, the fire pits blazed towards the ceiling with her words. "You're not doing this out of love. You're doing this out of concern, obligation—as his friend, as his king."
"It's not true!" he shot back. "I do…love him…"
"I don't believe you."
"It doesn't matter what you believe," Yuuri said. "What matters is what he believes."
"My point exactly!" Tra'va said with another angry flap of her wings, sounding thick and heavy as though someone had waved a piece of leather in the wind. "And, right now, he believes that his only sincere lover was The Maou." She placed a hand on her hip. "And as much as that bastard pisses me off, I know that he loves Wolfram, too. And this whole time, I was hoping that someone new would win Wolfram's heart…so that he could forget about you…" Then, her eyes filled with tears again. "And I still want that…should he live…because… I've died before and I know what that feels like…to die believing you're alone and unloved…" She rested her palm over here eyes. "What am I saying? Wolfram's fire is gone. He'll die soon enough…and a part of me wants to go with him. But, the truth is…that where he's going…I can't follow...."
She lowered her palm, growled, and blood red eyes turned in Yuuri's direction. She grew angry all over again from just the sight of him. "All we had to do was go to the shrine! That's all! No stupid adventures. No chasing after idiots using magic beyond their control. If we had made it straight here, it would have been fine!"
Yuuri narrowed his eyes at that. "And, what were you doing the whole time? Chipping at Wolfram's soul just like…" He pointed to the delicate crystal platform Wolfram's body was hovering over. "Just like…that…"
"And what, the Hell, do you think that is?"
Allowing the fire within herself to take hold, she grabbed Yuuri by his black coat and pulled him closer—talons ripping into the material. "And most of those marks and cracks were not made by me!" The pair were practically face to face now. "Three guesses as to who did that!"
Her hands shook.
"I hate you," she seethed, fangs glinting. "I hate you so much for everything you've put him through…for years..." Tears leaked from her eyes and Yuuri could do nothing but stare with his arms hanging limply at his sides. "Yuuri, he loved you and gave you everything." The black material ripped more under the strain of her talons. In a heated whisper, "You gave him nothing."
Yuuri looked over her shoulder at the blond.
"Trouble, it can't be…"
Wolfram's skin was turning ashy and his white clothing, turning a soft grey. Yuuri's words were barely out of his mouth when the platform cracked slowly, spider webbing as it did so.
"Now, there's nothing left to do," she said, sobbing again, "but watch him die." Feeling weak, Tra'va leaned her head low and rested it on Yuuri. "I thought I'd give you that honor. That's why you're here."
"Die?" Onyx eyes wide, disbelieving. "No, it won't happen," he said with determination.
The double black could feel warm splatters fall on his shoulder, sinking into the fabric of his jacket and shirt.
"I hate you!" she thumped his chest. Her sobs were pathetic, like a child's.
"Hate you!" She struck him again. Yuuri placed a warm hand on the small of her back. He wasn't going to fight her on this because she was right about him—and had been all along.
"Hate!" She drove her hand into him with the fist doubled up.
The pain was more than he expected. He reeled.
Yuuri woke up with a start. The nightmarish world was gone. He took a shallow breath as he forced his eyes to focus. Wolfram was in his arms, a blond head rested against the curve of his neck. The two of them had, somehow, fallen from the raised dais and onto the floor with scattered pages from a book and broken pieces of wood. Yuuri was now sitting with his back against one of the battered pews. Wolfram was curled up in his lap, dead weight.
The double black could hear the sound of feet thundering, running to them from the far side of the room.
"Wait! Don't touch them!" Murata shouted. "Look!"
Yuuri's eyes began to focus more, and his palm moved instinctively to grasp Wolfram's shoulder—to keep him closer. His fingers dug into the material. Yuuri blinked at his own hand and noticed that his fingernails were now purple. His onyx eyes turned to something bright under his palm. A…web…? Yuuri found himself and Wolfram wrapped in a fine web of silver strands stretched almost to the breaking point and a pulsing blue light radiating from their skin.
In his head, the double black could hear, So, I'm inside of you now, huh?
"Eh? Trouble?" Yuuri said nervously.
Yup, there's three of us in this body. It kind of sucks though. Not enough room... And that Maou Spirit is glaring at me.
The double black put a hand to his aching head. Was this what Wolfram went through when he was first possessed? "I don't need this right now, Trouble…"
Holy crap! she complained. Do you have any idea how much junk you keep in this soul of yours? And that Maou Spirit has just as much! Damn, he's old. Yuuri worried when he could hear things rattling around. There was an annoyed, pouting tone that went on with, Clean up your soul, Yuuri. And start with how you feel about Wolfram. Of course, The Maou's got a head start on you there, but still…
Then, he's still alive? Wolfram! Yuuri thought to himself and pulled the blond closer against himself.
The Maou, Trouble said in his head, is keeping him alive in your arms—even without fire magic. But, it's draining him.
Yuuri could feel everyone staring at them, but did his best to focus on the situation at hand.
So, look at the web. I didn't have to use one the last time because I wasn't this exhausted.
Onyx eyes did so.
I'm going to give Wolfram his magic back, but I have to keep a pinch of it for myself. And you're going to pick me up and push my soul along the strands of the web until I reach the box with the bone in it. Got that?
"Ummm…right…" Yuuri said out loud, nervous.
And, Yuuri? She said darkly.
"Yes, Tra'va?"
Don't screw this up!