Consequences of the Maou\'s Heart

Rated M for foul language, alcohol usage, dark themes, and homosexual sex. If you are not mature enough to deal with these please turn back now.

Chapter 24

A light breeze drifted across the desert carrying a turkey vulture silently over the makeshift raider camp set in the shadow of one of the few mesas in the area. The wind barely disturbed the hair on Edward’s head as he lay face down on the top of the mesa. His head peaking over the edge just enough to take in the sight of a few unaware men hanging familiar looking tan uniforms on an improvised line between tent poles. With no water in sight, Edward assumed they were airing out the clothes in an attempt to lighten the stench that came with extended wear time of any outfit under the desert sun. It was easy to see how the uniforms could be taken as official wear of Lord Weller’s men if one wasn’t familiar with them. But to the eyes of someone who saw such uniforms day in and day out these were clearly knockoffs. Thoughts of fashion and treachery aside, Edward focused on the mission his captain gave him, box in the men. It was with a grin learned from his fiery leader that Edward summoned his Maryoku.

Even after all the centuries he’d lived it never failed to cause Murata amusement and awe when a skilled Mazoku let loose in their element. Of course Shin Makoku’s general populace rarely witnessed anything more than simple harmless displays of Maryoku, so it was no surprise that the pair of men that had accompanied them looked ready to bolt as the ground started shaking. Judging from the shouts and screams from the raiders they weren’t the only ones unprepared for such an event. In contrast Wolfram and Simon seemed deadly calm, faces drawn and ready for a fight. Suddenly Wolfram began running around the mesa, Simon hot on his heels. The ground’s groaning drowning out heavy booted footsteps; they ran efficiently and were soon followed by the townsmen. Murata joined in at a much more sedate pace, mentally saddling himself with the role of look out. He didn’t carry a sword and while he still remembered the art of the sword his current incarnation lacked the conditioning needed to be useful in a real fight, plus look outs got the best show.

As they rounded the side of the mesa a very different desert greeted their eyes. Jagged columns and spikes of dirt and rock jutted out from the desert floor in a loose circle around the camp. Even the smallest outshoot rose well over the head of the tallest of the men. As they ran along the outside of the rough wall a second row of spikes heaved themselves free of the ground leaving a passage barely wider than two men standing shoulder to shoulder. The strategy dawned on Murata almost instantly and he cursed while turning on a boost of speed till he was running along side the blond. Moving too quickly to speak, Murata settled a disapproving glare on Wolfram only to receive a grim smile in return. The men from the town looked confused but kept up easily, keeping them out of the loop on the tactics being used insured that any possible treachery would be more easily countered.

Once they stood about opposite the camp side of the mesa, Wolfram stopped abruptly and waved his hands toward the top of the mesa. Two walls now surrounded the camp, seemingly impenetrable till a section crumbled behind Wolfram opening them up to the desert. They darted out into the open while Wolfram once again waved towards the mesa’s top.

“What the hell are we doing?!” one of the town’s men yelled.

“Funneling them,” Simon hissed. A distant rumble alerted the soldiers to the holes opening up along the inner wall.

“You,” Wolfram pointed sharply at the men, “Use the rope we brought to tie them up once we knock them down. Geika feel like playing bait? Just remember if they get too close… run like hell,” Murata blinked at him before rolling his eyes and stomping out a good distance from the opening. A quick flick of his hands sent back the hood of his cloak that had remained steadfastly atop his head. Wolfram and Simon ignored the gasps caused by the revelation of the double black’s hair. The sound of running footsteps reached their ears and they readied for a fight on either side of the opening.

The first man through the hole scarcely had time to blink before Wolfram’s booted foot connected solidly with his solar plexus effectively sending him crashing to the ground. The two men from town spent a few seconds simply staring at the blond man wondering how someone his size managed such a feat before scurrying to restrain the dazed raider. Murata had to admit Wolfram and his soldier were quite impressive, as each raider came out of the trap they saw Murata first and made to run at him only to be blindsided by one of the soldiers. Neither Wolfram nor Simon even had to draw their weapons till after they’d taken down a good number of men. It didn’t take long for the trickle of men brave or foolish enough to rush into such an obvious trap to die down. On the bright side fifteen men sat tied on the ground in various states of consciousness, if Edward’s estimation of the likely number of bandits was correct there could only be a handful left inside.

The ground lay still and unmoving as a silence fell over the desert. Wolfram instructed Murata and the townsmen to stand guard outside the opening in case any of them tried to make a break for it. Quietly the two soldiers crept into the narrow space between the two walls. Normally Wolfram would have sent fire balls down the corridor, clearing the way and inspiring some fear in the same action, but without use of his Maryoku they attempted stealth instead of pyrotechnics. Predictably they ran into two men lurking in the passage way hoping to turn the ambush back against them. One fell back sharply as the hilt of Simon’s sword cracked into his jaw. The other managed a lucky punch to Wolfram’s side before the blond managed to dislocate his knee with a decisive kick.

“Captain,” Simon whispered quietly after knocking Wolfram’s assailant out. Though he hid it well, Wolfram was already beginning to tire.

“I’m fine let’s get these two outside,” he muttered slightly out of breath. Sweat dripped down his brow as they drug the raiders back to the others to be trussed up. Once Murata and the townsmen had the men Wolfram led the way back into the trap. They reached the inner ring without further incident. No one jumped them as they entered but as trained soldiers they didn’t dare let down their guard. Simon looked questioningly over to Wolfram making a few gestures till the blond gave him an affirmative nod. With his captain’s permission Simon sheathed his sword and began chanting under his breath.

Wind swept into the camp, a simple breeze turned into an unusually strong dust devil. Clothes hung on lines ripped free dancing in the wind. The bandits’ canvas tents strained against the pressure before giving in and coming loose. One man stood bewildered amongst the mess, he blinked dumbly at Wolfram and Simon before mutely raising his hands in surrender. The wind died down abruptly as Simon let go of his focus and used a discarded length of rope to tie the bandit’s hands behind his back. Despite the lethargy pulling at his limbs, Wolfram stalked towards the man with menace in his steps.

“Well you’re smarter than the rest,” Wolfram’s voice hissed with contained violence, “Was there anyone out of the camp today?” The man’s eyes widened significantly, unlike most of his companions he’d tried military life before resorting to crime. One of his few fond memories from that time was the sight of a blond haired, green eyed officer demonstrating hand to hand techniques to a group of newly enlisted men. It had been particularly hot that day and the officer had stripped down to just his pants. And now that that same officer was staring him down; being intimidated by his walking wet dream left the man incapable of answering aside from raising his shoulders in confusion.

“Either way we’ve got the most of them Captain, it’ll take them a while to regroup if they ever do.”

“Hum I suppose you are correct,” Wolfram muttered wearily, turning to inspect the now disheveled camp. Neither noticed the man behind a barrel of ale taking aim with a small crossbow, till a fist sized rock connected with the back of his head with a resounding thwack. Wolfram looked around and spotted Edward walking unsteadily towards them from the foot of the mesa.

“Did you just use your Maryoku to chunk a rock at him?” Wolfram asked incredulously, only to smirk when the brunette shook his head and pantomimed throwing; much like Yuri playing catch with Conrart. Snickering Simon tied up the newly unconscious man as well. The green haired soldier looked from his strained captain to his swaying cohort before sighing to himself and grabbing the unconscious under his arms to drag him out. Wolfram sent a weak glare his way before grabbing the arm of the surrendering man and frog marching him outside. Edward trailed after them, stumbling as though half asleep.

Murata nervously paced just outside of the opening in the wall, waiting for something bad to happen. The townsmen behaved themselves, guarding over the awakening captured bandits with the nervous stances of those unaccustomed to such situations. The thought of giving the men minor medals crossed the Sage’s mind; Yuri would certainly enjoy the idea. Lost in his thoughts he almost missed the sound of approaching footsteps from the impromptu maze. Wolfram and his captive came through first, practically throwing the man he was holding onto the ground with the others. Simon followed suit and was just able to free his hands before Edward passed out into his arms. While most of them were surprised to say the least, Wolfram just shook his head and Murata recognized the symptoms of Maryoku depletion. Edward was lowered to the ground gently by a vaguely smiling Simon.

“Simon,” Wolfram spoke surely despite the lethargy he was experiencing.

“Yes sir!” Simon knew better than to question his captain’s health in front of hostile strangers but desperately wanted to.

“Go do one more sweep of the camp and see if you can grab some extra supplies so we can march these guys back to town,” when Simon nodded Wolfram turned to one of the townsmen, “You go with him help him carry everything and see if you can find some more rope, the longer the lengths the better.” Despite looking a bit apprehensive the man followed the green haired soldier into the camp silently. Wolfram moved around the captives, checking the knots and insuring that they had no chance of escape. Once done he allowed himself to sit next to his sleeping soldier.

“Wolfram?” Murata spoke while standing next to the spikes of dirt, the blond made a noncommittal noise and the Sage continued, “I must admit I’m surprised. It’s well known your unit has some of the most elite Maryoku users but this,” he gestured towards one of the spikes, “is absolutely astounding. I doubt even Lord Christ has this much Maryoku.” A soft laugh escaped Wolfram’s lips before he bothered to respond.

“Haven’t you ever heard it’s not how much you have but how you use it?”

“I have but usually only from under endowed men looking for a date.” Another laugh followed Murata’s joke.

“Be that as it may, it’s a much truer statement in regards to manipulating the elements than the size of a man’s equipment. My men know that a small amount of power used… creatively can win battles that sheer brute force cannot.”

“But still this had to have required a ton of power,” Murata wondered if Wolfram was merely trying to down play his men’s abilities out of some sort of sense of modesty.

“Not as much as you are thinking,” he seemed to debate with himself for a moment, “Try punching one.”

“Excuse me?” Murata spoke before thinking and was treated to a small smirk from the pretty boy, “Oh fine, I’ll … punch it.” A sigh escaped Murata as he drew back his fist, fully prepared to berate the blond for being the cause of an aching hand. As his knuckles meet the surface he was surprised as the dirt crumbled and revealed that the solid looking spike was actually quite hollow.

“Usually if it looks solid enough no one is stupid enough to go charging head first into a bunch of rocks,” Wolfram smiled fondly and wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead all the while ignoring the shouts of complaint from the men so easily tricked by their ploy.

“Clever, they teach that during military training?”

“Hardly, Gunter was still teaching when they went through. He never was much of a fan of dirty tricks, no matter how effective. I picked up that tactic from some one I knew as a child and then passed it on to my men.” A wistful smile spread over the blond’s face.

“Ha I’d like to meet someone so devious,” Murata repressed a smirk enjoying the sense of camaraderie he’d developed with Wolfram.

“Humph I’m sure he’d have loved your evil ways,” Wolfram paused and lost his smile, “But he fell in battle years ago.”

“The most entertaining ones have a habit of doing that,” Murata didn’t bother with the obligatory pity most would expect, he’d grown tired of giving and receiving it his first life.

“Hum, I guess they do.” They sat in near silence for a few minutes, only occasionally disturbed by one of their captives shuffling about or making idiotic demands. The bandits learned to keep their mouths shut after one particularly annoying man pissed off Wolfram enough to earn a very detailed and gory threat.

Footsteps drew their attention back to the opening in the weak wall and Simon came into view carrying several canteens filled with water and the townsman laden with ropes and a stuffed rucksack rummaged from the camp.

“We got enough stuff that these guys shouldn’t keel over before we make it back to town. Were we planning on heading out soon?” Simon trotted over to his captain.

“We’ll wait till everyone’s conscious then yes. We made good time and should be able to get back before the sun’s been gone too long.” Wolfram paused for a moment and looked towards the still sleeping Edward, “If he’s not up with in the hour you’ll need to give him a boost though. Do you have enough energy left to do a little healing?”

“No problem, heck I’m not even winded,” a smile broke out on the soldier’s face as he dodged a rock Wolfram chunked at him half heartedly.

Murata stared at the scene the two were making and was torn between amusement and dread; everything really was going too smoothly.

*****

Blood throbbed maddeningly through the veins that occupied the forehead of Shin Makoku’s army commander. Not only was his too adorable to be mentioned niece in the infirmary due to the idiot Maou he spent half his day babysitting but he’d only just now been informed of his mother’s return to Covenant Castle. She was already inside and presumably looking for Yuri. Gwendal wasn’t sure if he wanted to find the errant Maou before Celi or help her locate him. There were a lot of things the former Maou would over look with out a thought, romantic betrayal and mistreating her family were not among them. By all estimations between cutting ties to Wolfram and injuring Greta, Yuri was up a lava creek on an ice raft.

It had been a close call for the unfortunate soldier who’d informed Gwendal of Celi’s arrival and the poor kid might have died of sheer fright had the dark haired Mazoku not been in such a hurry to get things under control. He’d been knitting restlessly and had fully expected any knock on his door to be either Gunter coming to pester him out of his bad mood or an update on Greta. There weren’t many willing to risk bothering the highly ranking man when the sound of knitting needles clicking together could be heard echoing from his office.

Hallways rushed past as his long legs carried him swiftly through the twisting corridors of the castle searching for the stunning blond of his mother’s hair or the bold black silhouette of the Maou. He made sure to keep his ears open for any sounds that might indicate where either party was.

“L…l…lady Celi?!” a wimpy voice rang out from the library as Gwendal approached it. Cursing under his breath he broke out into a run for the last couple of yards hoping to prevent his mother from committing treason by killing Yuri, whether or not he deserved it.

“Oh Yuri darling it’s so good to see you!” Celi’s voice rang out as Gwendal burst through the doors. The scene wasn’t quite what he’d expected. Yuri stood next to a table covered in open books and half filled pieces of parchment, Gunter fluttered nervously about clearly torn between his beloved Yuri and the woman he’d served under for the better part of a century, Raven stood quietly near the door either to stay out of the way or prevent Yuri from escaping and Celi… Celi was where she always was in any room, the center of attention. A sinfully red scrap of a dress hugged her curves, showing off even more of her perfect skin than even her normal attire dared to, part of her enormous volume of hair was swept up in a intricate knot at the back of her head, and she’d even traded her normally killer heels for a complicated pair of spike heeled sandals that laced all the way up past her knees. She looked as the men and women of the court had always referred to her at her most dangerous, like sex on legs.

“A…ah… you too?” Yuri’s stuttering became more pronounced, but from fear rather than lust. Something in the way Celi was acting clicked in Gwendal’s brain and damn near shut it down leaving the man momentarily unable to move.

“Excellent honey, a little birdy told me you put yourself back on the bachelor’s market, any truth to it?” Celi all but dripped sugar being sure to lean forward nearly letting her cleavage pop free of the dress’s confines.

“Ahhhhh you ah see I…. Wolfram… I .. ah Yes?” Yuri maintained a deer in the headlights look even as he seemed to have trouble processing what was going on around him. A voice in his head echoing curse words a mile a minute.

“Hum I never thought I’d hear that,” Celi pursed her lips in pout that could send grown men to their knees before smiling just as destructively, “You know there’s something I’ve wanted to do for so long.” Sweat rolled down Yuri’s spine as Celi stalked predatorily towards him.

“Wha… what?” Yuri’s panic and his mother’s movement sent a sound like flint against iron ringing though Gwendal’s mind as he tried to recover the sense to act.

“You know,” Celi rounded the table and stood an arm’s length away from Yuri, “I’ve always had a thing for,” she raised her left hand to delicately cup Yuri’s cheek, stunning the Maou into silence and immobility, “Double Blacks.” Gwendal watched in horror as Celi’s right hand flew back in preparation for a strike. Memories of the other times he’d seen her strike men rushed into his head, Lord Weller and Lord Bielefeld, his step fathers.

“Mother! NO!!” even as he rushed to restrain her, she let her hand fly solidly striking the Maou.

****

(A few minutes prior)

“God will you shut up already!” Yuri hissed in frustration as he drug out a few more texts from the libraries stacks. The part of his brain that he was starting to believe must have been damaged at some point would not stop complaining about having been repressed for so long. A familiar cry of ‘Bad Omen’ echoed outside, unnoticed by the Maou.

‘Ha fat chance! Oh grab that one the title looks useful.’ The mentioned book was added to the small pile resting on a foot stool.

“Fine if you insist on running commentary tell me what you think is going on. What’s wrong with Wolfram? Why’s my Maryoku gone haywire? And why in Shinou’s name am I suddenly multiple personality man?” Yuri grunted as he lifted the pile of books and carried them to an empty table.

‘Suddenly? Don’t lie to yourself… it’s a bad habit. I’ve been around most of your life; of course you didn’t always fight so hard to keep me separate. Ever since you hit your teens you’ve been shoving down any emotions that weren’t happiness and light. All that anger, wariness, and lust had to go somewhere.’

“So you’re saying I’m schizophrenic? Isn’t that just great!” Yuri flung his hands up in exasperation.

‘So melodramatic, we’re not insane,’ a contemplative pause, ‘Well I don’t think we are. I didn’t have an awareness of my own till that first fight with Wolfram after you proposed to him.’ If the voice in Yuri’s head had a chin it would be rubbing it studiously. ‘Before I slipped out quite a bit more, we used to get in more fights defending something or another,’ nostalgia tinged the words.

“Ugh don’t remind me. But why would getting engaged make me have a split personality?” Absentmindedly he opened one of the books and started skimming the pages, not really sure of what he was looking for.

‘I’m no psychiatrist, but I’d guess it has something to do with the massive amounts of energy we’ve been dumping into him. And you know the control I’ve been borrowing from him. He seems like such a hot head but really if he didn’t have such rigid control he’d have already burned down the castle a hundred times over.’

“Wait dumping energy into him?” Yuri opened another book without bothering to close the previous.

‘Well yea, really it’s been a pretty good deal. As you’ve noticed we pack quite a punch involuntarily without him. I still don’t understand why you went and broke off the engagement.’

“What!” Yuri squeaked, “He’s a guy!”

‘And?’

“And?! And he’s a GUY!” Black covered arms flapped around animatedly as if to make a point.

‘Yea that whole lying to yourself thing, I live in side your head. The boy thing, not such an issue.’

“….I think I liked you better before you started talking to me.” Yuri flopped down in his chair and buried his head in his hands

‘I’m sure you did,’ the echo of a grin fluttered through the Maou’s head, ‘Then I couldn’t remind you about the way his muscles play under his skin or how he swings his hips when he’s been riding a lot or how wet his lips are after a kiss.’

“Hey! That’s in the do not even think about box!” The echo of his own outraged voice caused Yuri to duck his head, “….Besides it was Shinou in Wolfram’s body when the ….kiss happened. And that’s not the point any way; even if I think Wolfram is ….cute.”

‘Hot.’

“….Attractive. Something’s wrong with him and we need to figure out what.” His fist connected with the surface of the desk to emphasize his point.

‘Well what ever it is it’s burning up his own energy fast as can be. Thus why he needs ours.’

“That makes sense, but what could cause something like that,” a frustrated hum passed his lips, “Ah a curse? Or maybe he’s sick? But his family would know about something like that right?”

‘Hum… maybe. He does like to play things pretty close to his chest, assuming he knows that something is wrong. Are you actually reading anything in those books?’

“Ah no?” Yuri stared at the pile of opened books and felt a drop of sweat roll down the back of his neck thinking about Gunter’s reaction to seeing him mistreating the most likely rare manuscripts in such a way.

‘Don’t think about him! He’s like some sort of curse that latches on us when you think about him.’

“Don’t be silly. Oh plus he’s like a walking encyclopedia, I’ll just ask him about stuff that could drain someone’s energy. And if he doesn’t know anything I’ll ask Gisela, she is a doc,” Yuri’s thought was cut off by a wailing coming from outside the library.

“HEIKA!!”

‘A curse I say.’ The library doors flew open and Gunter came in, hair flying about dramatically.

“Oh Heika you must be careful I just received word Lady Celi has returned from her cruise!”

“What?!” an unmanly squeak escaped Yuri.

‘Shit, shit, shit. Run, for god’s sake run. She’ll castrate us for what you did and I’m not ready to be a eunuch!’ Before Yuri had time to make his body move, a flash of red and blond drew his eyes to the door.

“L…l…lady Celi?!” Panic gripped the Maou, disabling his ability to think let alone act.

“Oh Yuri darling it’s so good to see you!” Her voice sent shivers of fear up his spine.

“A…ah… you too?”

‘Smooth real smooth, good bye manly bits I’ll miss you.’ Yuri desperately hoped that somehow Celi hadn’t already heard about the engagement fiasco.

“Excellent honey, a little birdy told me you put yourself back on the bachelor’s market, any truth to it?”

‘SHIT!’

“Ahhhhh you ah see I…. Wolfram… I .. ah Yes?” Yuri tried to make words come out that would some how fix everything, he wasn’t succeeding.

“Hum I never thought I’d hear that. You know there’s something I’ve wanted to do for so long.”

“Wha… what?” Pure shock was the only thing keeping Yuri from fleeing.

“You know, I’ve always had a thing for Double Blacks.” Warning bells rang in Yuri’s head as he watched Celi’s hand fly back.

“Mother! NO!!” Gwendal’s yell was drowned out by the resounding crunch that followed Celi’s balled fist connecting with Yuri’s nose.

No one spoke as Yuri went crashing to the floor and blood started to flow out of the Maou’s broken nose. Celi took a step towards him and suddenly every one broke out of the shock of watching the former Maou physically assault the current Maou.

“Mother what in the name of Shinou are you thinking!” Gwendal yelled only to cringe when Celi turned angrily to face him.

“Damn Shinou and this boy king to the seven hells. I did what he asked,” she turned back to Yuri, “I made sure my baby boy ended up chained to… to him. And my baby’s still going to die because this fool can’t stomach the thought of marrying a man!”

*****

It took less than an hour for Edward to regain consciousness and Wolfram’s party set out back toward the town, captives tied together in a line. The two townsmen were whispering furiously at each other, glancing back at the still hood-less Murata every so often. Murata would have been more worried but the taller one blushed furiously every time their eyes met. Really it was flattering even if he had no intention what so ever of humoring the man.

“Like flies to honey eh?” Wolfram stage whispered to the double black, clearly amused by the attraction.

“Ha ha that’s so funny I forgot to laugh,” at the odd look he received Murata just shook his head. “So how long till we pick up the horses?”

“Not long, it’ll do Edward good to get on one; he’s still more drained than I’m comfortable with.” A smile worked its way across Murata’s face, even as exhausted as Wolfram was he was still concerned about his men first.

“You’re not looking so good yourself.”

“Hum, but that can’t really be helped can it?” Murata opened his mouth to respond when Simon stopped abruptly and stared behind them.

“Ah Geika, Captain what is that?!” the green haired man’s voice sounded near panic. In the desert that they had just crossed a tan cloud rose up from the floor accompanied by a soft but growing roar.

“A…. sand storm?!” Murata managed to speak.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that kind of desert!” The captives had also noticed the phenomenon and were pulling against their ropes, trying to get free.

“It’s not! Run!” At the Sage’s command every one broke in to a sprint, the sound of the storm growing faster than they could move. Simon and Edward were at the front holding the ropes that connected the captives, the two townsmen near the middle, and Murata and Wolfram bringing up the rear.

In the den of thunderous noise some how Murata heard the sound of wet coughing and turned his head to see Wolfram on his knees, blood splattering the ground. He made the decision instantly and ran back and grabbed the blond, forcibly dragging him along. But the back tracking had cost him and with in moments the storm was upon them, swallowing them up completely. Simon glanced back just in time to see the white’s of Murata’s eyes before they disappeared.

The storm stopped as suddenly as it had started leaving the desert eerily quiet. Simon’s eyes frantically swept the area, looking for his captain and the Sage.

“Captain?” he whispered distraught. There was no sign of either man, “CAPTAIN!”

*****

AN: Ha just when it looks like Yuri’s getting a clue, Wolfram goes missing! I really hate writing fights, yea. Oh and there is a very vague illusion to a scene from one of the Dark Swan novels, the original made me laugh so hard I had to include something like it in this. Anybody ready to kill me?