The sun had no right to be shining so brightly. Yami scowled at the offending light as he dragged himself to a sitting position on the edge of his bed. He ran his hands through his hair before reaching for a cigarette. He forced himself to stand as his body yearned for a few minutes more. The night had run long as he tried to prepare for one scenario after another after another. He never got far with any of them.

Inhaling deeply on the cigarette, he prayed what little he had set into motion would work out the way he had planned.

He wished, not for the first time, Julius had survived to handle the fallout. The political games had always been more of his speed.

Yami felt he was drowning, that he could barely keep his head above the water.

The sun, bleeding golden rays of light into the sky, reminded him of the task at hand. No time for anything else. A visit to Charlotte, to have a shoulder to support him would have to wait.

He dressed quickly-donning the black cloak of his squad rather than the finery of his new role. The black fit his mood, fit the task at hand. The black put his true loyalties on display. His actions today may appease the king's blood lust, or may not, but Yami would fulfill them on his own accord, of his own volition. He would not be the king's lackey.

He fastened his sword at his waist and drew the blade checking for chips and wear, testing the sharpness. Should he be called to use it, he needed to be prepared. Sheathing the weapon, he walked out the door, still scowling at the sun's brightness.

A crowd was gathered in the colosseum when he arrived. The excitement in the air turned his stomach. His squad, his family had gathered on the colosseum floor, a tight knot of black robes. Each member looked at him expectantly. Finral placed his hand on a young girl's shoulder. Yami immediately recognized the girl as Gauche's sister from all the times he had been forced to look at her picture. The girl looked up at Finral and asked him something Yami could not make out.

Asta walked forward, calling to him.

"We should probably be in on the plan," Asta whispered, leaning into Yami so his voice would not carry.

"Finral knows the plan. Follow his lead."

"But that's..." Asta looked around. "I mean the plan to save Gauche."

Yami did not have the opportunity to speak as the king chose to enter the colosseum to the sound of fanfare echoing off the stone walls. Yami looked up as the king entered his viewing box and waved to his gathered subjects. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the tall thin man with dark hair who had been feeding the king a web of lies.

Gauche entered from a gate beneath the king's box, prodded forward by a pair of guards. Yami signaled for Asta to return to the squad as he walked forward toward a hastily constructed wooden platform. As Gauche ascended the stairs from the back, Yami met him from the other side.

"Gauche Adali, you stand accused of treason against the crown." The king's voice echoed against the stone walls, aided by magical enhancements. "How do you plead?"

Gauche met Yami's eyes. He nodded slowly. The red puffiness around them told Yami everything he needed to know, and the self-assured, cocky grin on his lips filled in any possible blanks.

Gauche turned to the King.

"We both know damn well that your mind is already made up and nothing I can say will change it."

Murmurs of disapproval echoed around the colosseum. Yami could see the frown on the King's face.

"Very well." The King cleared his throat. "As a small boon of my merciful nature, I have allowed your sister to visit you one last time. You may speak with her."

Gauche turned to where the Black Bulls had gathered, eyes wide with a slurry of emotions-fear, relief, sadness, joy. Marie stood there among them, surrounded by the family he had for so long refused to claim. He did not even mind when he saw Finral's hand on her shoulder. She had been crying, he could tell even from a distance. She was thinner than she should be and dressed in rags unsuited to her goddess-like status in his mind.

He pushed past Yami to the edge of the platform as Marie broke free from Finral's grip. She met him as he crouched down the best he could with his hands bound behind him.

"Brother! I miss you! Why are we here? What's going to happen?"

Gauche closed his eyes and leaned toward her. He pressed a soft kiss into her forehead.

"I love you, Marie. Your safety and well-being have been my reason for living for so long."

"And you can still protect me, Big Brother."

Gauche shook his head.

"I have to face the consequences of my actions."

"But you didn't do anything wrong!"

"Didn't I? Even before the incident, before the elves took over, I was a seasoned criminal. Everything I did was to protect you, to provide for you, but one can only run for so long, Marie. Now is the time for me to stop running. Now I

need to take responsibility for what I've done."

"But, Brother...!" Marie reached out for him as the guards pulled him away, back toward the center of the platform.

"I love you, Marie. Everything I do has always been for you."

One of the guards struck Gauche across the face. The mirror mage narrowed his eyes as he spat at the guard. Yami walked over and placed a hand on Gauche's shoulder and stared the guard down until the ruckus stopped. He leaned toward Gauche.

"It's not too late. Finral can still..."

"No. You and I both know anything else would only endanger everyone we care about."

Their eyes met for a moment before Yami nodded imperceptibly and stepped back a bit. Gauche was forced to kneel in the center of the platform. He raised his eyes to the sky ahead for a moment before settling his gaze on his sister. Finral held her close to him and she clung to his jacket, but she did not hide her face. He smiled at her bravery.

Everything moved in slow motion as he watched and prepared. Gauche kneeling and the smile creeping on his face-the look of defiant victory. His blade sung as he drew it from the scabbard he wore. Never had it quite sounded so clear and piercing. His heart, hammering drum-like in his chest, its loud thudding drowning out even the sound of his steady calming breathing. The hilt of the blade felt slick in his hands as his palms sweat. He shifted his weight, gripping the sword with both hands and pulled the blade around and above his head. He held his position for a moment, his eyes darting to the squad who stood watching with expressions that ran the gamut of anger to disbelief. Only Finral, whose eyes found him, wore a look of calm expectation. Yami saw him shift out the corner of his eye as he turned back to Gauche kneeling before him.

And the blade fell in a silver flash. He barely felt the resistance of flesh and bone as it met Gauche's neck.

He did hear the thud as his head hit the platform.

He did see the squirt of blood as the mirror mage's heart pumped its last.

Gauche looked up at him, at them all, eyes opened, defiant, with a smirk on his lips.

Gasps from the crowd and a shout of alarm broke the spell of the moment. Motion on the ground drew Yami's eyes. A flash of light, a flash of magic startled everyone around.

But not Yami.

Where the Black Bulls had stood was nothing but space.

Yami looked back on the face of the sacrifice he had taken. The sacrifice which had walked willingly to the slaughter. The sacrifice he knew would always be on his conscience.

Yami knelt, the pooling blood soaking the leather of his chaps. His fingers brushed the quickly cooling skin of the man he had once considered family as he closed his one good eye forever.

"She's safe," Yami muttered, unheard by the crowd still distressed by the disappearance of an entire Magic Knight squad.

"Where did they go?" The King's nasally whine cut through the murmurs of confusion from the audience. "How could they disappear like that?" Yami looked up at the monarch. The King looked back at the tall dark-haired man who stood behind him and waved his arms in confused frustration. "You promised me nothing like this could happen!"

The man simply looked at Yami, his lips pressed into a thin line. Yami held his steely gaze for a moment before tossing his blade to the ground and turning away. He hopped from the platform and landed heavily on the ground below. A small smirk twisted his lips as Yami pulled a cigarette from his pouch. The smirk turned to a self-satisfied smile as he passed over the ground where his family had stood together and stood by Gauche's side one last time. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag as he walked across the open space to the door and stepped out into the city beyond.

He needed a drink.

"So," Jack slipped into the seat next to him. "Where are they?"

"Where are who?" Yami lifted his cup and took a shallow sip. He usually enjoyed the drink, but today it tasted like ash in his mouth.

"Don't play dumb with me, Yami. Where are they?" Jack waved over the bartender.

Yami glanced around the room, which had entirely too many eyes and ears for his taste. He wished he had chosen to retire to his chambers instead of the bar to which his feet had carried him as his consciousness seemed to shut down.

"I don't know. Really." The King, or rather his puppetmaster, could have agents anywhere lying in wait for him to slip.

"But you knew they were going to bolt, didn't you?"

Yami took another slow sip before he placed the glass down. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"If you're asking me if I had any hand in their decision or plan, the answer is no. Might I have made a suggestion or two? Might I have arranged for the child to be with them? Perhaps."

"You know, for someone as dense as you are sometimes, you can be pretty savvy." Jack took the glass placed before him on the bar and took a drink.

Yami grunted.

"Maybe. But I'm not smart enough." Yami swirled the clear brown liquid in his glass.

"Charlotte's trial is tomorrow?"

Yami took another sip.

"Yep."

"You ready for it?"

Yami shook his head.

"Nope."

"I can't imagine the King letting her off easy, Yami. Compared to escaping a prison sentence for simple theft, wiping out an entire Magic Knight squad seem like it would be a much more serious conviction." Jack brought the glass to his lips. He said nothing else, but Yami could hear the rest of the thought carried through on the silence which followed. The weight of the silence pressed down on him, threatening to crush him beneath the weight of the unspoken and unasked.

"I can't kill her, Jack. I won't be her executioner. We've already lost too many; I've lost too many." Yami whispered as he stared into the swirling liquid in his glass.

"When did you two get together?"

He asked the question as if their relationship had been blatantly obvious, despite all of their efforts to hide their feelings.

"Maybe get together isn't the right thing to ask... When did you two first get over yourselves and finally fuck?"

Yami wondered if he should protest for Charlotte's sake, but another part wanted to brag just a little bit, while another part wondered what he was still doing at the bar when he could see her, maybe for the last time.

"It was a few months ago." Yami took another sip of his drink, satisfied with his decision to stay as neutral on the matter, or at least as neutral as he could. "How did you know?"

"You aren't the only other captain I spend time with, ya know. And both of you have been, I don't know, acting weird lately. Everyone knew something was up."

Yami took a sip and placed his glass back on the table. He rotated it, watching the ice swirl within it.

"Charlotte won't be too happy to hear that. She was so insistent we keep all of it a secret."

"Yeah, well, you two are also terrible liars."

"Hey, I take offense at that."

Jack chuckled.

"You're a better liar when you never open your mouth, Meathead."

Yami could see what Jack was trying to do, but he could not bring himself to respond. He did not have the energy to banter. He sighed instead and took another drink. Jack lifted his glass to his lips as well and they continued drinking in silence.

Yami stumbled down the stairs to the cells where the few remaining prisoners were held. He glared at the soldier who tried stopping him and the younger man wilted. He scraped his fingers against the cold stone walls as he walked down the corridor. The thudding sound as they struck the rungs of the barred doors sent a shockwave of pain up his arm.

He reached the cell where Gauche had been held and stopped. He gripped the cold metal bars of the door until his knuckles turned white. He pressed his forehead into the bars as if he could force himself to pass through them by the pressure. Closing his eyes, he could see Gauche's face in profile, moonlight highlighting the peaceful resignation he had worn during the last time they had spoken in the small damp cell.

Yami sighed and stepped back. He continued down the hall until he reached her door.

She shimmered silver in the light of the moon now passing through the window. She had turned her face toward its light and Yami stood watching her for a long moment.

His conviction had been strong before, but now as he watched her, his heart grew resolute.

She turned toward the door as if she knew he had come. A tiny sad smile graced her lips.

He leaned heavily against her door feeling the full effects of the afternoon he had spent drinking with Jack.

"Hey, Beautiful."

"I don't feel very beautiful right now." She turned her attention to her hands as they rested in her lap.

"You're always beautiful to me."

She looked every bit a goddess-an impoverished, malnourished, and unattended goddess, but a goddess nonetheless.

Charlotte rolled her eyes before walking to the door which separated them. She laid her hand over his as he gripped the metal bars separating them.

"I heard what happened." She reached through and brushed his cheek with her long, bony fingers.

"Are they feeding you better?" He held her hand against his face, desperate for her touch. He closed his eyes as a barrier against the thoughts and feelings building within him.

"Yami..." An unspoken worry filled her voice.

She should worry about herself, about tomorrow, he thought.

"I wish I could hold you." He reached through the bars and brushed her stringy, oily hair.

"So do I." She leaned into his touch and pressed her forehead against the bars separating. Yami slipped his hand around the back of her neck as if he might try pulling her headfirst through the bars. Instead, he ran his fingers through her hair as he also rested his forehead against the cold metal bars.

Yami's head roared as he opened his eyes and immediately regretted the action. He lay, fully dressed, atop the blankets in his quarters at the headquarters of the magic knights. He couldn't remember a time he had felt as bad after a night at the bar, but then, he also couldn't quite remember last night either. He sat up slowly, laboriously, as he fought the swimming in his head and every noise was amplified in his ears. He closed his eyes and reached for a cigarette. He inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. He looked at the glowing red tip and the embers turned to blood in his mind. He shook the image from his thoughts and rubbed his hand over his face. He stood and stumbled slightly in the process. He shoved the cigarette between his lips as he found his footing and shuffled to the bathroom.

While he missed the camaraderie of the home he had shared with the Bulls, the private bathroom was quite an upgrade.

He splashed water on his face and when he looked in the mirror, for a flash Gauche's lifeless eyes stared back at him. He blinked and his face looked out from the mirror once more.

Yami sighed, fogging the silvered surface with a cloud of smoke.

A bell chimed in the other room announcing a visitor.

"Shit."

The door to the bedroom creaked open and Yami slammed the bathroom door closed with enough force to rattle the glass pitcher on the table.

"Yami, the trial will be starting soon."

"I'm taking a dump, Marx."

He could imagine the look of disgust on the other man's face. While they had served together in the same squad, Yami had always felt Marx had looked at him with a measure of disdain.

"No need to be graphic. I was just reminding you. Shall I have your robes prepared?"

Yami rolled his eyes as he took a seat on the toilet. He hated the finery associated with the Wizard King position.

"No, I... I'll take care of it, now please let me shit in peace."

Footsteps followed by silence and Yami closed his eyes again, only to be haunted by the face of the brother whose life he had taken.

"I can't do this," he muttered.

"You're late." Nozel's voice was cool and accusatory. Yami glared at him.

"Again," Fuegoleon added.

Yami ignored him and took a seat.

Charlotte was already on the platform. Her wrists had been shackled before her. The plain white chemise was dingy and smeared with dirt from the prison cell. Her blond hair hung in greasy clumps on either side of her face. She looked a far cry from the confident warrior they all knew. She looked broken.

Until the king addressed her from the bench. Then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. The dirty veneer of her time in prison seemed to fall away, exposing her confident, capable self. The Charlotte he had fallen for could never be broken, especially not by a man.

"Lady Charlotte Roselei, Former Captain of the Blue Rose Knights Brigade, do you know of what you stand accused?"

Charlotte's gaze drifted to the floor before her and a flicker of pain crossed her face.

"Do you, Lady Roselei? Answer the question."

He could see the deep breath she took even from a distance.

"I do." She said after a long moment.

"Will the court restate the crime of which Lady Roselei is accused?" The tall man with the king made the request and Yami's eyes narrowed. Something about the man did not sit right with him. The tall man glared down at a clerk shuffling papers. "Well?"

"Um, yes, here it is." The clerk cleared her throat before she read from the paper in her hands. "Lady Charlotte Roselei stands accused of the destruction of the Blue Rose Knights headquarters and the deaths of every member of the brigade within the structure at the time. Furthermore, Lady Roselei is charged with treason and a willful attempt against the life of the crown."

A hush fell over the room as the gathered crowd awaited the next words from the king.

"Lady Roselei, until recent events, you have been a model citizen and superb knight and protector of the kingdom. However, the accusations against you are severe. Hundreds were slaughtered in your attack against your squad-women and men who relied on you for leadership. Dozens more were killed or injured in the attack on the capital-collateral damage in your fight against those who chose to protect the kingdom from you and your traitorous allies."

Yami gripped the railing so hard he felt the wood compress. He didn't care if he broke it or not. The king was spouting half-truths, ignoring the fact that none of the accused had any choice in their actions, as he had since the farces he called trials began.

"How do you plead?"

"I did none of the things of which I have been accused, Your Grace."

"Do you not remember them?"

"I do, Your Grace."

"Was it not your body that performed these actions?"

"Yes, Your Grace, but my spirit was... suppressed and my body was not my own at the time."

"So you're just weak-willed, is that what you are saying?"

Yami watched as Charlotte opened her mouth to argue and closed it again. He noted the clenched fists at her side.

"Careful, Charlotte." He muttered as he leaned on the railing, his entire body tense. Jack put a hand on his shoulder and pushed hard, forcing him back into the seat he had not realized he had left.

"If you will not answer, we have no choice but to assume your guilt in this matter. You will be executed at dawn for murder, treason, and crimes against the crown."

Murmurs of excitement or concern flooded the room.

Yami shot to his feet, his body tense and ready to leap to her side, or to call out an objection, to... tell... everyone."

"I'm pregnant, Your Grace." Charlotte's voice cut through the din like a whip, silencing all around her. She looked up at the dais and the surprised expressions on the face of the king and his advisors.

Yami could feel the eyes of his comrades on him, but he would not, could not take his eyes off of her.

"Please, Your Grace. Please spare my child. I am not asking for clemency, only that I will be allowed to bring this life into the world."

The king looked at the tall man standing behind him, the man Yami had figured was truly running the show. The younger man spoke for once as he approached the end of the dais.

"Is this true?" Yami could see the uncertainty in his face, even from the distance as he summoned his grimoire and with it a spell. Aides of the court scurried around and shuffled papers as they searched for confirmation.

Charlotte nodded her head and squeezed her eyes shut from the onslaught of whispered discussion which had erupted all around them.

"Yami?" Jack's voice made his blood run cold. "Is she?"

The spell gripped Charlotte in tendrils of light and settled her on one side of a pair of scales. A light shone blindingly on the other side.

"The light of truth will judge your honesty." The young man said calmly, but Yami had the feeling the judgment would be anything but fair.

The scales sat perfectly balanced despite the snarl on the man's face as he seemed to fight to exert his will over the truth. As Charlotte hovered in the scale built of mana, Owen spoke up from where he had been held during the proceedings.

"Your Grace, she speaks the truth. I felt the child's mana within her as we worked together to save the life of Yami Sukehiro."

"A life she had sought to claim initially!" The man spat, his anger getting the better of him as he continued his fight to influence the balance. Yami shot to his feet. If they were to bring him into the discussion, he would damn well be in the middle of the conversation.

"Even your scales know it to be true!" Owen spat back.

"Damnatio. Please." The king motioned to his nephew, asking the younger man to take a seat. The scales vanished and Charlotte fell a short distance to the platform on which she had stood. Yami leaped over the railing which had surrounded the Captains' seating and landed on the tamped earth flooring with a dull thud that rattled his joints. Yami raced across the small field to where Charlotte lay. Owen met him there.

"Of all the irresponsible, boneheaded things a Kira could do," the physician muttered as he looked over the prone woman.

"Is she alright?" Yami asked, panic flooding his voice. "Are you alright?" He lifted her head and cradled her against him.

"I'm fine, Yami."

"Since the scales of truth corroborates your story, Physician, I will believe you. Though I will have my personal team examine the prisoner. Strange she chose not to mention her condition until now." The king droned, but Yami barely heard him.

"The sentence will be delayed until verification of the claims of pregnancy. If the claim proves false, the accused will be executed immediately."

Charlotte gasped and looked up at Yami. Terror filled her eyes though her face was stoic.

Yami turned from her to the platform towering above them. He glared at the king. He wanted to leap to the dais and slice through him with his blade. He took one hand from Charlotte and reached for the hilt of his sword. His hand met air and he looked down to see nothing where his sword should have been. Cold dread washed through him as he recalled the reason why the blade was missing.

"I will be present during this personal examination, Your Grace." The last two words came through gritted teeth, as Yami's hand clenched into a fist.

"As will I," Owen stood next to them. Yami glanced at the old doctor and saw the same worry in his eyes.

"We do not need any observers. The royal physician will conduct the examination fairly."

"I insist." Yami's voice was a growl of rage. His fear the examination would, in fact, not be fair grew with every insistence that it would.

"If you can heal, you can kill," Owen whispered the thought which had made Yami's blood run cold.

The king looked to the younger man standing near him, as if asking what he should do, but the stone-wall faced Damnatio did not indicate any sort of plan as he stared down at the accused and her defenders.

The king sighed.

"Very well. Your presence will be tolerated during the examination. But the ruling stands. Should she be lying, she will be executed immediately."

Yami felt his shoulders relax slightly and his fist loosen just a bit.

"By your hand, Wizard King," Damnatio added.

Any sense of victory he had allowed himself to feel fled as ice filled his veins once more. Yami met the cold, calculating eyes on the dais. The man staring back at him had spent a lifetime playing political games. Yami could tell the man was a master manipulator, and he knew he was being manipulated.

He could see the web closing around him, around them all, but he could not see a way to escape it.

Guards grabbed Charlotte's arms and escorted her from the platform.

"Owen, keep on them. Make sure they don't try to cut us out of the loop."

"The royal physician and I go way back. We don't always see eye to eye, but I will do what I can to make sure he is on our side."

Yami nodded before storming off of the platform and out of the room. He caught Jack's eye as he passed where the rest of the magic knight leaders sat. He needed a smoke. He needed a drink. He needed to know if his "kids" were alright.

But most importantly, he needed to stop whatever the hell was going on.