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Title: Maoh, A Day Late

Summary: Yuri arrives in the other world late, and the race for the Boxes has already begun. Season 2.

Notes: In which there are mistaken identities.

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Part V, Chapter 2

The color black II

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Once a course of action had been decided, Raven had been left with nothing to do but pace the halls of Covenant Castle. The constant stream of people, all hurrying along on their own duties, should have been a relief to him after the terrifying stillness that had taken over Castle Spitzweg just before he had been sent away as well, but instead Raven felt claustrophobic and a little sick.

He had failed his lord, more than he could possibly express. Not only had he allowed Stoffel to work himself up into a righteous indignation that drove him to enter the Tomb of the Great One in the first place, but Raven had then failed to notice, recognize and act upon the signs that something was wrong until the situation had deteriorated beyond repair.

Then, he had multiplied his failings by abandoning his lord.

It didn't matter that he had gone to seek help, he had still run away when Stoffel clearly needed him.

Lost in thought, Raven had wandered out into the gardens. The flowers were in full bloom. He recognized most of them as Celi's creations. 'She's come a long way since those early failures,' he mused. 'I remember when she named the first one to survive after me. It was an ugly, drooping thing though...'

"Lady Cecilie..." he murmured, sighing.

"Raven!"

At first, he almost thought he had imagined her voice. But glancing around, he could see her figure, as if summoned by his thoughts. Her steps were hurried, a staccato of clicking heels against the stone path, and her usually mild expression was creased with worry.

"Raven! I came as soon as I heard," she said, reaching out to grasp at his cloak. "Is it true? Is something wrong with my brother? If you're here, then..."

Seeing her so distraught broke his heart, and Raven couldn't meet her questioning gaze.

"His Excellency has been poisoned by miasma," Raven admitted quietly. Celi gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. "It'll be alright," he hastened to assure her. "His Majesty is personally leading a party to Mount Makadina to gather the Minadina herb. With that, it should be possible to cure him."

"I see..." Celi murmured, clasping her hands tightly as if in prayer. She appeared relieved, just a little, but worry was still clear in her expression.

Stepping back, Raven bowed deeply.

"Lady Cecilie, I'm so sorry," he said, his shoulders shaking a little. "I have no excuse. I was unable to fulfill your request..."

"It's alright, Raven," Celi assured him, mustering up a smile. "Thank you for looking after him all this time. I know... your support means a great deal to him. He'd be lost without you."

"No, that's..." Raven tried to demure, but Celi laughed, a little shakily.

"You know it's true," she said. "Even when we were children, you were always pulling him out of trouble. Remember when he declared he was going to become a performer and tried to run away from home? He didn't even think to take a single thing with him and got lost in the forest, on top of that! Who knows what would've happened to him if you hadn't gone with him and brought some provisions and blankets with you, just in case?"

"I remember. You had been so disappointed by the flame-breather at the circus we snuck out to see. He insisted he could do a much better job," Raven reminisced.

"Those were such carefree days..." Celi said, smiling. "Remember when he got into a fight with Lord Von Gyllenhaal? He was in completely over his head, but he still wouldn't back down. You had to fish him out of the pond afterwards."

"Lord Von Gyllenhaal had refused to paint you because he said the color combination would be completely wrong," Raven said, sighing. "So Lord Stoffel set fire to all his canvases."

It had almost become a terrible diplomatic incident. Gyllenhaal had held a grudge for decades, until Celi finally asked him to teach Wolfram to paint. Still, it was better than the fiasco of Celi's early dating history.

Slowly, Celi's fond look faded into sadness again. "He's always tried so hard for my sake, hasn't he?" she murmured. "Even when he was completely in over his head."

"You are his beloved younger sister," Raven told her. "Even if he did not always succeed, he was determined to do what he thought was best for you."

But instead of being reassured, Celi appeared on the verge of tears. "It's my fault, isn't it?" she whispered. "I tried to run away from my responsibilities as Demon Queen. I dumped everything on him, and he... he tried so hard, but..."

Gasping quietly, she tried to swallow a sob.

Without thinking, Raven reached out to smooth her ruffled hair. Her golden curls were tangled, and her dress was askew, as if put on in a hurry. That image might have been appealing - and suggestive - in another situation, but the misery on her face was painful to see.

Celi sighed quietly and leaned into his palm. "You always brushed my hair so well," she murmured. "I missed it. I missed you, Raven..."

Startled, Raven tried to pull his hand back, but Celi caught it between her own soft palms. She looked up, her deep green eyes meeting his pale blue.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "You've both supported me for so long, but I've just burdened you... Raven, I'm releasing you from that promise." He stared at her in shock as Celi ducked her head. "I will help my brother, as I should have from the start. So go where you wish. Do what you want. You deserve to have that freedom."

Smiling faintly, Raven shook his head. "You've always thought of that as the greatest joy, haven't you? But to me... The only place I've wanted to be has always been by your side," he said. Hesitantly, his hand shifted in her grip, their fingers intertwining.

The shock on Celi's face slowly shifted to a small but sincere smile. "...You're too kind, to both of us," she murmured, stepping closer and letting her head rest against his chest. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Raven..."

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"Are you worried, Your Majesty?" Conrart asked, glancing at Yuri.

"No, why?" Yuri replied easily. "Murata said that it'll be okay as long as everyone in our group trusts each other. I'm sure you, me and Wolfram will be fine."

Gwendal had been less than pleased with the arrangement, but he had ultimately been forced to concede and allow the expedition. There wasn't any time to dawdle. They would be departing as soon as preparations were complete.

Apparently, no one had ventured on Mount Makadina in several Demon Tribe lifetimes, so Murata and Gunter were frantically gathering what little information was available about its layout and where the Minadina Leaf might be found.

For the rest of their supplies, Wolfram had insisted on preparing his own, but Conrart had been tasked with handling both his own and Yuri's packing. Now, he had all but completed his preparations, and judging by the thick winter jackets Conrart had procured, it was going to be very, very cold.

"I'm honored by your trust, Your Majesty," Conrart said, smiling again. It looked extra-bright, even by Conrart's standards.

"I'm the one who's honored," Yuri said. "Thanks for volunteering to come along. Let's be honest, I don't know anything about mountain climbing or gathering herbs. I doubt Wolfram knows all that much either. So we'll both be counting on you."

In fact, their party was pretty unbalanced in terms of useful skills. Wolfram was a soldier, true, but his actual field experience was limited, and he wasn't trained for retrieval missions across harsh terrain. Yuri would be worse than useless, overall. But given the threat of the miasma, this had been the best arrangement they could come up with.

"Of course I volunteered for this mission. I'll follow you, wherever you go," Conrart promised. "I won't let you down."

"I know," Yuri told him, grinning. Suddenly, he crossed his arms and pretended to glare. "But there's one thing you keep failing at."

"Oh? What is it, Your Majesty?" Conrart wondered, though he had an inkling what Yuri meant. There was just one request he kept making.

"That! That right there!" Yuri shouted, pointing at Conrart. "Lord Weller!"

Conrart chuckled at Yuri's indignant expression.

Yuri's eyes narrowed. Clearly, Conrart didn't appreciate how much he had toned down another of Miko Shibuya's "Call Me Mama" methods. 'My precious baby boy,' she had called Yuri nonstop for weeks on end. It had been absolutely horrible.

Well, Yuri would just have to make for that with persistence. That was his way of doings, after all.

"Lord Weller," he insisted, "are you laughing at me? Lord Weller, cut that out. Lord Weller. Lord Weller, Lord Weller, Lord Weller!"

"Alright! That's enough, Yuri!" Conrart said, holding his hands up in surrender and edging away from Yuri's insistent chanting.

Yuri grinned, victorious, and Conrart couldn't help smiling back.

Both of them looked up as a sudden commotion by the gate caught their attention. Soldiers had gathered around a carriage that was pulling into the courtyard. They seemed oddly uncertain about how to proceed, each glancing at the others.

"What's going on?" Yuri wondered.

Conrart's eyes narrowed as he watched the carriage draw to a stop inside the castle's walls. "That carriage bears the Von Spitzweg crest," he said slowly, his gaze lingering on the rose emblem on the carriage's sides. The windows, he noted, were completely shuttered, providing no glimpse of who was inside.

"From Spitzweg?" Yuri repeated in surprise. "I thought everyone left? Do you think it's Stoffel?"

Without waiting for a reply, he hurried toward the carriage and the guards standing next to it.

Conrart followed more sedately, though with an undercurrent of hurry in his steps. The guards had stepped back from the carriage, a few departing to report whatever they had learned from the occupants while the rest created a loose ring around it. They turned to Yuri, as the king hailed them, and bowed deeply.

"No, it's a woman, but she has the Von Spitzweg seal," one of the guards told Yuri. "Actually... she said she has a message for you, Your Majesty. And she refused to get out or give it to anyone else."

"Wow, something that secret? Okay, I see what she wants," Yuri replied easily, stepping past the guards and moving to the carriage's door.

It swung open noiselessly, the angle hiding the occupant from Conrart's view. As he watched, Yuri's eyes widened and his breath caught in pure surprise. What could have caused such a reaction?

Conrart moved to follow, but the guard held him back. "She said she'll speak only to the Demon King, alone," the soldier relayed, though he quailed under Conrart's gaze. Conrart could understand their hesitation - the situation at Castle Spitzweg had not yet been announced, and interfering with one of the Ten Aristocrats or even their envoy had led to everything from reassignment to exile and even death.

But the Demon King was above the Ten Aristocrats, and his safety far outweighed any other concerns.

Shaking him off, Conrart pushed past the guards, toward the carriage. In the moment he had been looking away, Yuri had quickly climbed inside, the door closing behind him. Conrart only hoped that meant he had seen nothing dangerous in there.

He strode toward the carriage, intent on at least checking to make sure Yuri was alright, but the door on the other side suddenly opened and slammed shut again as someone jumped out. Yuri appeared around the corner a moment later, a heavy cloak clutched under his arm. His expression was oddly intent.

It was all quite strange. What could have happened in the handful of moments Yuri had been inside the carriage? Had he been given something? It hardly seemed like enough time to convey a verbal message. And... why had he exited on the other side?

"Your Majesty?" Conrart inquired, reaching for the young king. "Yuri? What happened?"

Yuri shook his head sharply, grasping Conrart's sleeve and pulling him away from the carriage. Behind them, the driver snapped his reins, and the horses neighed, pulling the carriage into motion. The guards watched, still uncertain but unwilling to interfere, as it rolled out through the main gate.

"Yuri, what's going on? What is that?" Conrart tried again, tugging lightly against the grip Yuri had on his cuff. The gesture itself was strangely childish for Yuri, but his grasping fingers remained tightly locked against the fabric.

Shaking his head again, Yuri continued to pull him along until they were alone in an isolated corner of the gardens. Whatever Yuri had seen or been told must have required quite a bit of secrecy. From the way the thick cloak was draped over his arm, Conrart judged he must have been hiding something under it.

Finally, Yuri turned to face him. Ducking his head, he stepped closer as he reached under the folded cloak for whatever he had concealed there. Conrart's hands reached up to rest on his shoulders, but with the first touch, he knew something was wrong. Through the black fabric of his uniform jacket, Yuri's shoulders felt cold and hard.

Conrart flinched, but he had realized the danger too late, too close to pull away in time. The polished metal of a blade glinted between the folds of thick fabric. Stunned by the attack from a quarter he never expected, Conrart almost didn't feel the dagger sliding into his stomach until blood, thick and warm, began to soak his uniform.

He stared down at Yuri in shock, but when that dark head tilted up, it wasn't the familiar face of his king that met his gaze - only the blank featureless mask of a puppet.

The dagger slid out, the burning, tearing pain hitting him suddenly, and everything went dark.

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((Nothing like a good stabbing to get a story rolling, right? :-D Especially since this is a Filler part, where nothing really interesting happens.))

((Anyway, I'm unimpressed by your lack of support - except issm and Serry2, in a last minute edition - so you don't get a Monday update. Depending on how I feel, you might not get a Wednesday one either.))

((Ruminate upon your sins. By which I mean "review."))