Consequences of the Maou\'s Heart

Chapter 22

Light streamed in through the library windows, highlighting the figure in the room. Gunter puttered around the room, readying for the Maou’s lesson that afternoon. Sighing, the advisor looked outside to see Yuri taking his morning jog alongside Lord Weller. It had been three weeks since Wolfram left the castle and Conrart had only just began running with the Maou again, but even from this distance it was clear that the elder half Mazoku was lacking his signature smile. Life at the castle had settled down some since what some were calling ‘The Engagement Catastrophe’. Gisela had completed the physical examination of the Maou that he had requested. Gunter had been relived to hear that other than a moderate increase in Maryoku, Yuri was in perfect health. Of course he couldn’t miss the disappointment in his daughter’s voice when she had told him the results. Admittedly, Wolfram and Gisela had been friends for decades but it worried Gunter that she could have such ill will towards their king.

“Lord Christ?” In his contemplative state Gunter had not noticed the door opening and the young princess making her way inside.

“Ah Princess, did you need something?” It was rare for the girl to actively seek him out; usually she avoided him when not in a lesson.

“I need to talk to someone.” Greta didn’t even bother acting like the innocent little girl most people assumed she still was; of course Gunter being Gunter didn’t notice the difference.

“Oh Princess I’m so happy Heika’s darling daughter has seen fit to place her trust in me.”

“Ah yea, well normally I’d talk to Wolfram Papa or Yuri Papa, but well you know.” Gunter could barely contain his joy at being second only to the girl’s parents. “So I went to see Anissina, but she was buried in one of her inventions. Then I tried Uncle Gwen but he was all growly cause he’d run out of yarn… I think the castle’s yarn supply is dangerously low,” the girl stage whispered the last bit, “And Uncle Conrad had such a sad look on his face I couldn’t talk to him.”

“So then you sought me out?” Gunter questioned now somewhat deflated that he wasn’t her second, third or even fourth choice.

“Well Gisela’s been in such a funk, Grandmum Celi’s on a love quest, Hube and Nicola are so busy now that Elle is old enough to cause some real chaos.” Gunter was barely restraining the tears from the hit his pride was taking. “And this really isn’t something I can talk about with the maids or Dakoskos, unless I really want to get the rumor mill going.” Maids, Gunter screamed in his mind. The last of his pride shriveled up and died as unmanly tears rolled down his face.

“Princess why didn’t you come to me sooner,” Gunter whined pathetically.

“Well,” Greta stared warily at the weeping man, “I was afraid you’d start crying. Ah maybe I’d better go?”

“No, no. Please I want to assist in anyway I can.” Gunter certainly didn’t want the princess to think any less of him than she already did.

“Well,” she started, still a little unsure if it was a wise choice talking to Gunter, “Something isn’t right…with Wolfram,” she paused, waiting to see how Gunter reacted. If he tried to comfort her as though she were still a baby, she would leave and hope Anissina or someone else became available.

“Hum,” Gunter studied the princess, it was clear that she was serious but then again she might be overreacting, “What makes you say that?” Greta let a small sigh of relief out; he wasn’t dismissing her concerns outright.

“I got a letter from him yesterday,” concern laced her voice which further confused Gunter.

“Pardon me, but isn’t that a good thing?” Usually when Greta got a letter no matter the sender she’d run around showing it to any one she could.

“Yes… but no.” Greta shook her head slightly and slumped unladylike into one of the library’s plush arm chairs.

“I’m sorry I don’t really understand.” Watching the pouting princess reminded Gunter of a sulking Wolfram when the brat really was just a child. He didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that the former prince had rubbed off so much on Heika’s daughter.

“Usually he only sends letters if something important or interesting happens. He always says it’s a waste of resources to document every dip in the road. But all he did was talk about the scenery and tell me how much he misses me.”

“Hum I admit that’s a bit out of character, but why do you think that means something is wrong with him? Perhaps he’s just a bit out of sorts considering the situation in which he left?” Gunter could tell he’d said something wrong when Greta turned angry eyes on him; Wolfram had defiantly rubbed off on the girl.

“Out of sorts?! Lord Christ, Yuri ditched him publicly! He should be furious not rambling on about how lovely the landscape is! It’s weird!” The words were so similar to what Gwendal had said shortly after Wolfram’s departure that Gunter wondered if it wasn’t only Celi’s youngest son that was rubbing off on the princess.

“Princess! I understand it’s abnormal but how does that mean something is wrong with him? Everyone deals with depression in their own way, perhaps this is simply Lord Bielefeld’s way of coping?”

“But that’s not all! I made Yuri show me a map of the route they were going right after they left. The town Wolfram sent the letter from wasn’t nearly as far away as it should have been.”

“Perhaps Geika doesn’t wish to travel in a rush; he is in charge of the expedition.” To himself Gunter had to admit it was hard to imagine the feisty blond not traveling at full speed whether or not Murata wanted too.

“Gunter,” Greta couldn’t keep some of the whine out of her voice, “They were only in Jali when he sent the letter.”

“But that’s should only take a week or so to reach.” Gunter began to understand Greta’s concern if this information was correct then Wolfram and Murata had to be traveling at less than half standard military speed.

“That’s why I think something’s wrong. It was bad enough that Papa was rambling on but when I realized how slow they must be going I got worried. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“Hum,” Gunter puzzled over the best course of action, “We could send a pigeon to Lord Bielefeld, but I sincerely doubt he would inform us if anything was wrong.”

“Oh hey, you could send one to Uncle Ken! I bet if there is something wrong he already knows about it.” Greta bounced, happy to have thought up a solution.

“Wonderful idea Princess, I’ll get right on that!”

“Thanks Gunter!” On a whim of cheerfulness, Greta hugged Gunter playfully.

“You’re quite welcome,” being hugged in such a manner reminded Gunter of the days when Gisela was more his daughter and less a woman to be feared, “If there is anything else you need just let me know.” The moment ended and Greta stood back from the hug a bit awkwardly. She turned and started for the door, waving a cheerful goodbye to Gunter, glad to know that there was another adult she could come to if she needed help. However just before she exited she paused and turned back to Gunter.

“There was one more thing. I was just going to look it up later but…” She trailed off reluctantly.

“Yes Princess?” Gunter leaned forward, eager to help Heika’s daughter with another problem.

“Do Mazoku go crazy like humans do?” Greta blurted out her question in one breath.

“I’m sorry,” Gunter looked clearly confused, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“You know seeing strange things, hearing voices… talking to themselves.” Gunter couldn’t help but think the question odd, but never the less he sought to answer to the best of his ability.

“Oh well yes those are some of the warning signs of mental illness among Mazoku as well. Was there any particular reason you asked?”

“Well you know how I get up pretty early, like before a lot of people are up?” Gunter nodded, “And you know how from my room to the kitchen I pass by Yuri’s room?” Gunter nodded again, shaking off a feeling of foreboding, “Well lately sometimes when I pass by Yuri’s room early in the morning I hear him… talking but there’s no one else in the room. I can’t ever make out what he says but it’s defiantly his voice. And when I ask him about it he just laughs it off and says he must be talking in his sleep. What do you think?” Greta who had been pacing a bit while she spoke, turned and looked at the now silent Gunter. The sun only served to accentuate the gray pallor Gunter’s skin had taken on as well as the whites of his eyes that glistened with tears once again. She barely had time to close the door before he let out a loud wail.

“HEEEEEEEEIKAAAAAAAAA!!” Clearly it had been a bad choice to tell Gunter about her concerns. With a roll of her eyes, the princess went in search of her papa in order to warn him of Gunter’s panicked state.

*****

A shiver of fear raced down Yuri’s spine at the strange wail that echoed through the castle walls moments after he entered his bath to clean up from his jog. He knew that he should probably make some sort attempt at escaping the area and there by making it harder for the source of that wail to find him; however, he just couldn’t summon the energy.

About a week after Wolfram left, Gwendal lowered his paperwork load from monstrous to merely migraine inducing. The workload was still more than double what it used to be, but Yuri couldn’t bring himself to complain. He could only imagine what Shori would do to someone who had done to Yuri what he had done to Wolfram. Conrad was speaking to him again as something other than a soldier, but still it was strained and left him feeling like a jerk. Greta seemed to be taking the situation with little outright anger towards him, but he could feel the weight of her disappointment and sadness.

Gisela… well he preferred not to think about the healer for the sake of his own sanity. While Gunter wasn’t mad at him, the advisor had taken this as an opportunity to go over every known courting custom and sexual practice ever known. Since Greta had informed Yuri of the relationship between two of his advisors, Yuri had begun to wonder if the lessons weren’t part of Gwendal’s revenge. Even the castle staff seemed to be against him, thought he rationed that mostly they were just enjoying the thrill of new gossip.

With the overabundance of feelings from the castle residents overwhelming him, Yuri hadn’t really had time to figure out how he felt about everything. Now as he shucked off the rough sweat-like outfit he’d had made for his workouts, Yuri tried to wrap his thoughts around his Wolfram-less state. He had to admit that for the first few days he had slept better than he had in years, no abrupt fists to the face to wake him up. Yet as the nights wore on his dreams returned and none of them had happy endings, even if it was clear some of them were more than arousing in parts. Each night he awoke covered in sweat and other bodily fluids with the ever-growing sense of dread in his heart.

Towel firmly tied about his waist, in case someone decided to barge in on him in the baths again, Yuri turned to approach the edge of the bath. He could actually remember some flashes from the dreams now, but the Maou would have been hard pressed to call it an improvement. Tantalizing expanses of creamy skin from an owner he couldn’t identify lay out before the Maou’s eyes, flushed with sex and excitement one moment, torn open and drenched in blood the next. He tried to tell himself that dreams were just the manifestation of concerns and desires being dealt with by his subconscious, but there was no denying the panic each dream left him drowning in.

And worse yet the last two mornings he’d awoken not only panicked, but furious as well. It was no secret that in his younger years on Earth, Yuri had something of a temper problem no matter the triviality of the issue. Yet in his time in Shin Makoku he rarely felt much intense anger outside of the acts of outright injustice that sent him in to what Greta had deemed ‘Maou-mode’. Yuri had simply chalked it up to the oddity of the situation he’d been placed in to begin with and maturity as time passed. But in the pale morning light Yuri had found himself shaking with a rage he couldn’t identify the cause of.

Steam rose up invitingly from the bath as Yuri lowered his tan frame down into the water with a melancholy sigh. Yuri wanted to laugh off the unease of the last few weeks but it seemed to be increasing uncomfortably. With one last sigh Yuri let the warmth of the water seep into his skin and relax his muscles. He didn’t even notice when he began to drift off.

*****

The forbidden boxes glowed ominously in the near total darkness of Shinou’s Temple. Neither the old king nor his priestess were anywhere in sight. Yuri knew he was dreaming, while the boxes still sat in the temple they hadn’t shone with that sinister light since Soushu had been defeated. The light could only remind Yuri of how very close he came to losing himself and everyone he held dear in such a short time. Yet even as it pained him to look at them, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Yuri, sweet Yuri.” A voice laced with femininity, malevolence, and mocking raced up his spine. The Maou tried to turn and locate the voice, but found himself locked in place. Unable to so much as rotate his eyes, Yuri forced himself to say calm with the knowledge that he was dreaming and dreams, no matter how scary, couldn’t hurt anyone. The voice continued, “I’m so very glad you came to your senses and gave me back my prize.” A sickening slurp punctuated the words, “It’s just so sweet I can’t resist.” The implication grated on Yuri’s nerves, he knew that he’d never give anything to someone who sounded so devious. “I’ve had many, so many,” palpable pleasure radiated from the voice, “But this one is surely my,” it paused dramatically, “Crowning achievement.”

“What the hell are you talking about!” Yuri couldn’t hold on to his calm and was shocked at his own words. He could sense that whatever this thing was it was behind him and he wanted nothing more than to turn around and face it.

“Mmm so it speaks, but words will do it no good, it’s so weak.” Again slurping punctuated the words. The sound brought to mind insects and rotting things.

“Whatever it is you’re doing stop this instant!” Yuri’s muscles strained and pulled against whatever force was keeping him still. Part of his mind screamed at him to stop struggling, that the scene playing out behind him was something his mind simply could not take. However, this being was doing something nefarious in his kingdom and he damn well wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Hah why should I stop little boy? You stole my prize for a time but in the end I always get what’s mine.” A crunch this time and another sound that made Yuri’s stomach drop, a weak pained gasp that was all too familiar. His eyes stopped seeing the temple around him as flashes of blue, gold, and green drown out his sight.

“You will stop! I am the Maou and you will not defy me!” Anger poured through Yuri’s veins, how dare it hurt one of his people.

“Finally bringing You into this?” Yuri’s vision cleared at the sound of yet another voice. Before him, seated on Hellfire in Frozen Land, a man appeared dressed in a familiar black uniform.

“Me,” Yuri whispered, this man looked just as everyone described him when his power went out of control.

“You, me, us, we it’s all the same,” he shrugged apathetically before intently staring over Yuri’s shoulder, “But what is to be done about that?”

“I have to stop it.” Another crunch echoed in the room.

“You don’t even know what it is. How can we stop it?” The darker Yuri looked sadly at the frozen Yuri.

“But you do, you know and we can!” Yuri begged despite the firm nature of his words.

“No, I’ve got a hunch and you don’t want to know what I do. You made me separate and used him to keep it so. To know what I know you’d have to be me.” His head shook sadly.

“Argh stop talking in circles! Tell me what I want to know, help me stop this!” Finally, the Maou Yuri rose and strolled over to stand in front of Yuri. Neither man could ignore the gory sounds whispering through the room.

“To do that, I’d be you and you’d be me and we’d be we. And nothing could undo that.” Yuri would never have thought that he could look that menacing, but clearly he was mistaken.

“I… would it hurt?” He hated the weakness in his voice and cursed himself for asking such a selfish question.

“Growing hurts.” Maou Yuri’s eyes focused over his shoulder again, “But so does staying still.”

“Could I stop,” a pained and choked moan interrupted him, “That, oh god could I stop that?” Cat like eyes returned to stare into Yuri’s desperate ones.

“Maybe,” he paused thoughtfully, “At least we’d have a chance.” If he’d had control of his body Yuri would have slumped forward in resignation.

“Then do it, any chance is better than none.” Once the words left his mouth Yuri could see a faint grin on his almost twin’s lips, just before the man stepped into him and his world lit up with pain. It wasn’t what he’d expected; he’d anticipated something sharper, like broken bones and torn skin. Instead it felt like his skin, muscles, organs, bones were all being pulled apart like soft taffy, twisted and spun into something different yet so much the same. It could have gone on for seconds or years but when it stopped Yuri found himself on all fours on the temple’s cold stone floors. The pain didn’t truly leave him but rather lingered like the soreness from having run miles upon miles with weights tied to every limb. The ache of gaining strength rather than the sting of failure, shaking the Maou slowly rose to his feet and steeled his determination to turn and stop the god forsaken sounds coming from behind him. Twin columns of water twirled to life beside him, slowly forming ominous dragons ready to deliver justice. Yuri shoved aside the feeling of wonder finally really seeing the manifestations of his power created in his chest, and turned around.

The scene was worse than he’d imagined. A vision of nauseating white knelt on the floor. Stringy pallid hair cascaded down in patches to the floor, both hiding and displaying the woman’s figure. A simple torn white dress clung to her emaciated body, slick and see through in rough splashes. Wide unseeing eyes bulged out of chalky skin as a colorless tongue licked pale yellow tinted lips. Sharp broken teeth offered a grin to the stunned Maou before spindly fingers brought a red bit of something to her mouth to be devoured. Each finger slipped in to her mouth to be slurped clean.

It wasn’t till he had completely taken in the visage of the woman that Yuri’s eyes could focus on the form spread at her knees. He’d never wanted to unsee something so badly before. A gold toped head rested against her knee, propped up at what had to be a painful angle. Steady streams of blood dripped from unusually pale lips and confused emerald eyes blinked unseeingly. Shreds of blue fabric lay torn away from the ruins of his chest. Ribs stood broken away from the organs they were meant to protect, or at least what was left of those organs. His heart beat frantically on display amidst the cavern that once held life supporting lungs. As the king watched the woman reached down to caress the pounding organ tenderly, despite the soundless scream that shone on her victim’s face.

“Wolfram,” Yuri whispered painfully around the urge to vomit.

“Is that it’s name? It is so delicious,” the words dripped like acid from the woman’s lips.

“No, no, NO!!” Yuri felt his Maryoku surge as the water dragons raced towards the woman, his vision clouded with bloodlust for this monster that dared to hurt someone so dear to him.

It might have been the sound of rushing water that woke Yuri from his slumber, it might have been the crash of metal and wood as water dragons burst through the doors to his bath, it might have been his own voice screaming. But really it was none of these things; rather it was the sound of a cut off scream from a frighteningly familiar young girl’s voice. Seconds passed as Yuri came to and stared at the splintered and drenched remains of the huge oak doors before the sound that had awoken him sunk home.

“GRETA!!”

*****

Wolfram knew he was about to do something stupid, epically stupid. Ever since he’d heard that woman spout off obvious untruths about his somewhat estranged older brother’s men, Wolfram felt plagued by two different voices telling him what to do. One, which sounded remarkably like Gwendal, advised him to send word to Covenant Castle and let them take care of the situation. The other, much wimpier, voice all but pleaded with him to merit out justice to the jerks tarnishing Lord Weller’s name. Unsurprisingly the wimpy voice was winning out, which could only lead to stupidity.

The town they were currently staying was the last town with in Shin Makoku’s borders. Beyond those borders lay the Wasteland, thought the title was more dramatic than the reality. The Wasteland was simply a stretch of desert unclaimed by any of the major nations, as it held no valuable resources or strategic purposes. The only things that made the land notable was that the Double Black Trail ended somewhere in it and the annoying habit of being home to would be bandits.

It was this Wasteland that was likely hiding the men that had somehow acquired Conrart’s uniforms. And, it was this Wasteland that Wolfram was readying to enter to beat the snot out of said men. If the blond had been in peak condition it wouldn’t have been much of an issue, but in the past few weeks his condition had worsened. What Maryoku he still had was working feebly to repair the constant damage the Mausetot was causing to his lungs and the surrounding tissues. Without his flames to call, Wolfram had to rely on his physical strength, which failed randomly from coughing fits and sudden dizzy spells.

Well he’d told Gisela that he’d have his men report that he’d died fighting bandits, he might as well add some truth to the mix. Not that he planned on letting any two bit criminals finish him off, weak as a sand bear cub or not.

*****

AN: So who wants to kill me? Who wants to kill Yuri? Who wants to smack a little sense in to Wolfram? Who wants Murata and Shinou to have weird ghost sex…wait wrong story.