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 27

Wolfram stared at the black clad man in front of him. Even thought he didn't look particularly malevolent, energy practically radiated off of him and the fact that he knew Wolfram's name set the blond on edge. Murata was stirring behind him and the man's guards looked ready to lash out at a moment's notice.

Despite the clearly tense aura of the room the man in black stepped forward gracefully, extending his hand palm up to Wolfram as though a fight wasn't near breaking out. The guards drew in sharp breaths; clearly the man was doing something unexpected. Options weighed out in Wolfram's head. He could attack the man with his bare hands and hope to over power him, try to speak to him like a rational calm individual, or just ignore the situation as a figment of his imagination. The ever growing tightness and pain in his chest lessened the desirability of attacking as it was hardly intimidating to hack blood all over one's enemy. And no matter how tempting it was to believe it all a hallucination the stale air and feel of dirt shifting under his boots were too real to ignore.

"What the hell is going on?" Wolfram growled out not taking his eyes off the men in front of him. The guards exchanged confused looks, clearly not having understood a word Wolfram had said.

"Ah so I've got the right tongue then," the man in black words were a question but the tone was a statement with the hint of a scholar's fanaticism. Wolfram only glared at him, silently demanding an answer. "Oh of course you are confused, both of you," he glanced over Wolfram's shoulder to observe Murata as the sage sat up awkwardly. "Please there is no need to be so on edge, this is a joyous moment."

"What?" Wolfram's glare transformed into a look of disbelief accompanied by a half snort from Murata. "How the hell is being kidnapped a joyous moment?!"

"Kidnapped?" The man in black cocked his head slightly to the side and stared at them, "Hum I suppose it would appear that way, but truly you are our honored guest."

"Guest?! Of who, a band of thugs?!" Wolfram shouted trying to ignore the prompting in the back of his head as to what sort of thugs would be made up of so many double blacks.

"No," the man replied calmly as thought he wasn't facing an immensely angered Wolfram, "You are a guest of the kingdom of Aapep."

"You lie! There is no such kingdom." As his temper rose Wolfram had to remind himself that fighting an unknown enemy in his current condition with Murata to protect would be very stupid.

"It is not surprising that you do not know of us, I imagine very few of your people would." He paused again to look a Murata who was starting to sit up slowly. "Though it is surprising that you have a child of the night with you."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Me, he's talking about me," Murata spoke, his voice a bit rough, "It's a very old term for double blacks."

"Ah you know a bit of the history," the man spoke with just a touch of excitement.

"You could say that." Murata fought down a sardonic smile.

"History lessen aside, if we are your guests then why the hell are we locked in a cell and why the pair of guards?" The man shifted a bit like guilty child under Wolfram's questions and hard glare.

"Ah my Liege is …wary of your presence and unusually protective of me. But I'm sure my Liege will come around shortly." Footsteps sounded rapidly from the hall causing the two guards to stiffen abruptly. A young girl poked her head into the room and upon catching sight of the man in black she trotted up to him and tugged on the hem of his clothing. He obediently crouched down to the girl's level so that she could whisper in his ear.

"Sadly," the man turned again to face Wolfram, standing as the girl's hand remained clutched to his hem, "My Liege has need of me. I truly had hoped to have more time to speak to you. Someone should be by shortly with some food and I shall return when I can. I'll leave a guard out side your door, if you need something tell them my name and I'll come as quickly as I can." The man made to leave before Wolfram spoke.

"And just what the hell is your name?"

"Jumoke." He left the room with the girl and guards in tow. The door shut solidly behind them and the clicking of a lock seemed to echo in the small room. A disappointed sigh passed though Wolfram's lips as he near collapsed on the cot next to Murata. His hands shook slightly and he hastily clasped them together in his lap.

"Wolfram?" Murata whispered gently not terribly surprised when Wolfram merely shook his head curtly. They sat in silence as Wolfram worked thought the feeling of helplessness that their encounter had arisen. It galled him to know that without his sword he was left with no viable way of fighting those who held them. He'd always made sure to have at least two ways of defending himself and those in his care, but with sickness ravaging his body and his sword lost to him he was more vulnerable than he'd been in decades.

He jumped when Murata placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Wolfram turned, expecting to hear some sort of sagely wisdom but only received a watery half smile. They sat like that till some time later a light knocking on the door roused them. Before either man could rise the door opened and one of the guards from earlier stepped into the room giving each of them a hard look. Behind him stood a woman again dressed in gauzy attire carrying a tray with some fruit and two bowls on it. Like the others she had a long main of black hair but her nervous eyes were a simple pale brown. She looked as though she wanted to place the tray on the table but was wary of getting too close to them.

"Guest indeed," Murata muttered under his breath. Finally, she walked haltingly to the table sat the tray down and all but fled the room. The guard followed her out and locked the door behind them. Wolfram watched the whole thing somewhat blankly. Murata took in the blonde's lack of interest before crawling around him to side off the cot. He stepped gingerly glad to discover a lack of injury from the sand storm and looked more carefully at the tray.

"Huh, food but no water. We must still be in the desert." When his words garnered no response from Wolfram he sat down next to him again. "Wolfram, you didn't get hit in the head did you?" The glare he received was at least some sign of life. A mumbled sentence left Wolfram's lips but was too low to make out. "What was that?"

"I'm sorry," his hair covered his face as he focused on the floor beneath his boots. Murata for his part was completely confused, an apology was rare enough from the former prince but he couldn't even figure out what he was apologizing for.

"Ah, and just what do you have to be sorry about?" This got Wolfram to turn startlingly pain filled green eyes to face him.

"What don't I have to be sorry about?! I dragged you and the others out to this fucking desert and now not only have we been captured but there's no telling where the others are," anger seemed to burn up the pain in his eyes but Murata found it easy to see that the pain was still Wolfram's driving emotion, "If I'd been man enough to just curl up and die in the castle this wouldn't be happening."

"Hum," Murata took in Wolfram's agitated breathing and chose his words, "Maybe, or maybe you'd be preparing for your wedding to Shibuya, or maybe I'd have tripped into the fountain at the shrine and drowned in a foot of standing water. You didn't drag me anywhere, I picked our destination and clearly they were waiting for you. Strange as that is. I think fate is conspiring against us," he paused with a slight smirk, "As usual."

"Fate? You actually believe in fate still with every thing you've seen and done?" Wolfram asked with a perplexed look on his face pointedly ignoring the reference to their captors apparently knowing who he was.

"Of course. I just no longer have any delusions that fate is anything other than some creative sadistic higher beings pulling our collective strings."

"Like Shinou Heika?" Even as he spoke Wolfram wondered what had made him ask that question.

"Ha, no. Shinou may be a sadist adept at pulling strings but he was still only a man."

"Then why did you do everything you've done if there is someone out there toying with us? The greater good? Shits and giggles?" Wolfram's voice was soft but earnest. It was clear that he had considered this line of thought before.

"Honestly blind foolish love." Murata expected some sort of loud reaction but wasn't altogether surprised when Wolfram merely nodded, strangely satisfied with the answer.

"Love is a pretty stupid emotion," a small pained smile spread across his face.

"The stupidest I've ever seen, but also the most powerful and the hardest to understand."

"I…" Wolfram looked up to ask Murata a question but paused to phrase it better; the sage just looked fondly at the man he was rapidly considering a close friend. "There have always been rumors about the great love between the First Maou and his Great Sage and well I couldn't help but wonder what the truth of it all was," Murata's eyebrows lifted curiously, this was not the line of questioning he'd expected.

"Odd time to ask but I suppose I could indulge your curiosity. Even if it does seem like a thinly veiled attempt at self distraction," a smile tugged at his lips as Wolfram flushed pink. "Once upon a time there was a young double black man who had watched his friends and family set off for a distant and unknown destination. Now surrounded only by people who feared the sight of his hair and eyes the young man turned inward and warded off others with a fortress of books and knowledge. The young man thought himself content never noticing the desperate loneliness growing within. While he sat untouched by the world the world changed around him. The darkness swelled and many blamed the double black for their misfortune. No longer so young, the man sensed this darkness and cared little for it nor the blame that had settled on his shoulders. The darkness grew and grew till the people sought to stop it and destroyed the double black's fortress of books with fire and hate. The man watched the flames and finally felt the loneliness that his books had kept at bay. He wandered without direction vaguely longing to join the family and friends he now assumed must be dead. He would have continued indefinitely but a strange thing occurred. A man with hair like the sun and eyes blue as the summer sky approached the double black without a trace of malice; he even treated him as an equal. They became friends, fought a war together and even started a country together. But the double black never realized that the blond man had stolen his heart till he held his friend while the blond man wept in his arms over the lost of his wife in childbirth. Instead of sorrow the double black felt elation and the emotion sickened him. He withdrew from his friend and resolved to live his life in penance for such horrible thoughts. But the blond was smart and unwilling to let go of the double black. He wrapped the double black in affection and warmth till he came willingly to the blond and his bed. For three years they loved more than the double black thought possible but it wasn't fated to last. The darkness had entered the blond's very soul….. Well you know the rest," Murata broke off, emotion welling in his eyes.

"I…I see. I'm sorry you two didn't have more time together." Wolfram spoke unable to stop thoughts of the years he'd spent with Yuri and how very short they seemed.

"Mmm still like they say better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," Murata smiled to himself a bit.

"That's," Wolfram seemed to be having trouble forming words as his face contorted sourly, "that's the stupidest thing I think I've ever heard. What kind of brainless idiot believes that?!" Murata blinked at him owlishly before holding his hand over his mouth to stifle the giggles that threatened to escape in a most undignified way.

"Quite," A sly looked passed over Murata's face, "You know I've told you my story now what about yours?"

"What," Wolfram look genuinely confused, "My story? What in the seven hells are you talking about?"

"Your grandiose love story," the stricken look he received almost made Murata feel bad about asking, almost.

"This is hardly the time for that," at Murata's cocked eyebrow Wolfram dismissed the haughty tone he'd been using for a more melancholy one, "It doesn't really matter anyway does it? He doesn't love me any more than a child loves a pet."

"A pet?" Murata asked intrigued, if a little confused as well, "Not a friend or family member?"

"No. With friends there is a shared loyalty and ultimately either can shatter it at will. Family is always family and even when you hate them you love them. Pets….well pets are loyal to the children who keep them but too stupid to leave if the situation gets too bad, and even the most loving and caring child never really sees their pet as anything more than a pet."

"Hm you really do love him," Murata refrained from snorting, knowing first hand that love could make someone say the stupidest things.

"What! Of course I do! For fuck's sake if I didn't I'd have just used his naïve nature to con him into marrying me whether he wanted it or not!" Wolfram fumed.

"Well sometimes people do the right thing simply because it's right not because they are in love."

"Ha I assure you there are a couple dozen nobles who would swear to you that I'm not one of those people. Weller and Big Brother among them. I've always been the selfish one, after a while it's easier to play the role you've been given than it is to change people's opinions. But I suppose you'd know something about that."

"Indeed. Melancholy tales of love aside, I think perhaps we should try to figure out why exactly our hosts have decided to so forcefully acquire us as guests."

"You're right, especially seeing as I've seen more double blacks in the last few hours than I've seen in the entirety of my life."

"Hum that is a quandary… I suppose it's possible..." Murata trailed off clearly lost in thought. Wolfram allowed him a minute or so of this before his impatient nature took over.

"What's possible?" The urge to cross his arms in annoyance twitched along his muscles.

"Well we set out to find the double black trail… we just might have found the destination from all those years ago."

"But that isn't possible. That desert we were in has been mapped. I highly doubt anyone could have just missed a bunch of double blacks hanging around."

"Who or whatever caused that sandstorm is powerful, possibly as powerful as Shinou or heaven forbid Shibuya. There is a small chance that we aren't in Kansas any more Toto."

"Cans ass? What the hell are you going on about?" Wolfram burst out not fully processing Murata's meaning.

"I'm saying that we may no longer be in the world you grew up in."

"But… we're on Earth?" Still miffed Wolfram tried to focus on the important parts of Murata's words.

"Not likely but it is possible that we've crossed some dimensional wall." If he'd been a less composed person Murata would have burst out laughing at the gob-smacked look on Wolfram's face, as it were he just smirked a bit before continuing, "Maybe if you're lucky they want you to be their king."

"WHAT!!"

AN: Don't kill me I know it's on the short side but um life is full of life-y things that need to be taken care of at the moment. On a side note anybody attending A-Kon 21? If you are I'll be a Plants Vs. Zombies sunflower just roaming around on Saturday.