"No!" David burst out, then his skin flushed darker than ever. "I mean—"
Sasha sucked up a mark on the soft skin of one inner thigh, laughing again when David swore and tried to move away and toward the bite at the same time. "Do what you must, sweet, but say my name when you do it." He dropped his mouth over David's cock again, losing himself in the task, the musk and the heat, and the smell of sweat and sex. It had been a long time since he'd sucked another man's cock, had enjoyed it so much. Zarya had filled him with fire, but left him feeling burned out and hollow. No one else had that fire. Eventually Sasha had given up trying to find it.
David consumed him, burned away the pain, the misery, the shadows that lingered, made him oblivious to everything except the sound of his name said with a ragged cry as David's fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair when he came, pouring hot and bitter down Sasha's throat.
He pulled slowly away, licked his own lips, then leaned up to kiss David deeply, swallowing the sweet noises David fed him. One of the arms around his neck slipped away, and Sasha jolted in surprise when a shy but determined hand wrapped around his cock. He drew back. "Sweet, you don't—"
"I do," David whispered.
Sasha closed his eyes at the sensation, David's hesitant stroking the sweetest torture. "Harder," he urged quietly, and then sat up, straddling David's hips. He wrapped his hand around David's, encouraged him to tighten his grip, move his hand faster. David was the very image of temptation, sweaty and mussed, hair spread out on the sheets, face flushed dark, his eyes hot with determination. Sasha had a sudden vision of a day when David was confident and knowledgeable enough that rather than stroking him off, he'd hold tightly to Sasha's hips as Sasha rode him, guiding his every moment, eyes dark with wicked promise as he thrust deep into Sasha's body.
The image was enough to tip him over the edge, and he came hard in David's hand, bending to take a hungry kiss as he spilled over them both. When the last of his release had left him, leaving him tired and sated, he stretched out alongside David and bundled him close.
He kissed David's brow and nuzzled against him. "I do love you, sweet."
David froze in his arms, then tried to burrow even closer, trembling slightly. Sasha frowned, concerned, but then David kissed him hard and quick before saying shyly, "I love you, too."
There was probably more that needed to be said, because there was no telling what would happen to them when they passed through the Great Wall, but the words could wait a little while longer. For the moment, it was enough to pull the blankets up over them and fall asleep holding each other close.
The moon was still in the sky when they left Unheilvol and walked through the too-silent ruins of Raven Knoll. Fritz was surprised they could even see the moon, and hoped the clear skies lasted long enough for them to reach the Great Wall. No Sentinels had ventured into the city since Sasha had slaughtered all those already within its walls, and Fritz had given orders that once the snow eased up the people were to return and start setting all to rights. Hopefully, he would return to a city well on its way to healing.
He did not dare think about what would happen if their mad quest failed.
A shadow moved at the city gates and Fritz frowned when it proved to be a person—and gasped as moonlight fell across him, revealing a familiar figure. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with short, curly hair and a close-cropped beard. He looked to be around Fritz's age, but his eyes were far older than that. Power radiated from him, and sadness clung to him like the snow clinging to his beard. Fritz swallowed, then said roughly, "Meine."
"Ehrlich," Meine greeted, walking over to him and embracing him tightly. "I could not believe that I felt your power, Holiness, but I had to be certain. It is you, after all these centuries? We never knew what Teufel did to you, though we had our suspicions … I did not expect to see you on this side of the wall. I could not believe it when I felt your presence. Have you been here in Unheilvol the entire time?"
Fritz started to reply, but the sound of movement behind him reminded him that he was not alone. "Sasha, David, this is Meine. Once upon a time, he was Captain of the Guard in Sonnenstrahl."
"The Wanderer," David said, voice sounding slightly awed. "Achim said you were real, but …"
Meine chuckled, rubbing at his beard in amusement. "Real enough, though some days I feel like a nightmare." His eyes fell on Sasha. "You are the child of chaos. We've felt the ripples of your presence. The threads of fate are badly frayed and order is slowly bowing to chaos. It is good to feel possibilities again," he finished softly.
Sasha nodded. "I hope that ultimately I am helping and not hurting."
"Schatten was broken long ago and it healed poorly. If you must re-break it to ensure it heals properly this time, then Schatten will suffer it gladly. Are you heading for the Great Wall?"
Fritz nodded. "Yes."
"Then I will guide you," Meine said.
"Thank you," Fritz said, and they filed into a single line as they left Raven Knoll behind and began to hike through the deep snow.
I still cannot believe you never warned me that my priests had been turned into the Great Sentinels.
I couldn't tell you,
Drache said with a sigh.
I wanted to, beloved. There are still so many things I wish I could say, because I think in the end my silence ensures you will hate me.
No,
Fritz said firmly.
I may be able to hate myself upon occasion, but I could never hate you, Drache. Even when I am infuriated with you, I love you.
Sadness rolled his through his mind, the force of it making Fritz's eyes sting.
Once upon a time, a god fell in love with a mortal. They were desperately, achingly in love for a long time. But things go wrong, and everyone has a point where they can take no more, where even love is not enough.
You mean Teufel and Licht.
Yes.
All of this because love died?
No. All this because love was lost, forgotten, and everything became tangled. Hopefully I will be better able to explain later. That is all I can say for now. I am surprised that much was permitted. Meine is correct—the threads are fraying.
Fritz sighed inwardly and hoped that Drache would soon be able to say more.
So what will become of the remaining Great Sentinels when we reach the Great Wall and go through it?
That is up to you, but I think they all long for respite.
You want me to kill them,
Fritz said.
It is not what I want—it is what they want. You must realize that, beloved.
Fritz nodded. "I do."
Amusement trickled over his mind.
You keep speaking to me aloud.
Fritz's face went hot when he realized that was exactly what he'd done. Thankfully, the wind and crunch of snow beneath their feet seemed to have muffled the muttered words. Not that it really mattered, since Sasha and David had already seen him speak aloud to Drache. He still was not certain they did not think him crazy, but at least they were not
treating
him as though he were.
No one thinks you're crazy.
I don't see how they think I am sane after I admit I hear a voice in my head. That is not the mark of a sane man.
It is the mark of a man who is not all that he should be,
Drache said quietly.
You've suffered far more than you realize, and I know what it is like to go mad. You were lost for a time, but never mad.
Drache …
Fritz fought to ignore the sudden, overwhelming ache to hold his figment lover. If he did ever go truly mad, it would be the pain of longing for Drache that finally broke him and drove him into a darkness from which he would never emerge.
A soft rumble rolled through his thoughts, an internal thunder that made Fritz shiver though he could not say why.
I will not let you go mad because of me. Never. If we can topple Teufel, we can find a way to be together. Believe that. You must. For me.
For you,
Fritz agreed—then nearly crashed into Meine when he abruptly stopped. "Is something wrong?"
"I could feel a Sentinel," Meine said, looking out into the heavily falling snow. "I've gotten rid of it, but it took me a moment."
Fritz's brow shot up, but it was David who said, "You can control the lesser Sentinels?"
Meine nodded. "Yes, though control is perhaps too strong a word. Guide, perhaps. If they ever felt like really pushing back they could quite easily. They don't because they do not actually enjoy being the savage monsters Teufel forces them to be."
"They're trapped, too," David said sadly. "Is there anything that Teufel does not control?"
"Me," Sasha said. "No matter how hard he tries, he cannot control me, and the longer I am here, the more his control over everything else falters. Teufel is cold and dark, and the fires of chaos burn bright."
Meine smiled at him, bright and razor sharp. "Yes, chaos is wreaking havoc. I wish I could help more, but I am bound to the Great Wall. I can wander the lands beyond it, but should I ever go through the gates I will die immediately."
"What have you done all this time?" Fritz asked.
"Waited," Meine replied. "What of you? I still cannot believe you were on this side of the wall the entire time. All the times I ventured into Raven Knoll, I never once sensed your presence. Your power is a pale imitation of what it once was, but I still should have felt it."
Fritz shook his head, gripped his shoulder comfortingly. "Do you really think Teufel would ever have let my priests know that I live? Keeping us ignorant of one another was part of his pleasure. You thirteen were made prisoners of the wall, and I was cursed to live the same tragic life over and over again … and I think there is something more to my punishment, something that has to do with Drache, but I do not know what because Drache is not able to explain."
Meine frowned, puzzled. "Who is Drache?"
Fritz explained, "A voice in my head. When I dream deeply enough, I am able to visit him. He is a memory of me, or something like that."
"What—"
"I think this discussion can wait until we find a place to rest for the night. As we have only been walking a couple of hours, that is still some ways off," Sasha interrupted.
Nodding, somewhat relieved to be able to set the matter of Drache aside, Fritz said, "True enough. Onward, then. Let us see how far we can get before we must stop."
They resumed walking and Fritz envied how easy the others made it look. It was painfully clear from his increasingly slow pace that he spent his days in a warm, dry temple. He thought he might have been able to walk a good distance in fair weather, but the added challenges of winter had him all but collapsing in relief when Meine finally called a halt in the shelter of a dense copse of trees.
"Time for lunch, I think," Meine said, and he laughed when they all groaned in agreement. "I do not suppose one of our sorcerers would care to light us a fire? I could manage it, but it would take longer and not be nearly as fine."
Sasha snorted in amusement. "I can handle fire." He left the immediate circle briefly to gather wood. Returning with sticks of all sizes, he broke the larger ones and arranged them all a pile the others had cleared of snow. He snapped his fingers and the wood caught. Fritz held his hands out to the warmth, flexing his fingers as they began to thaw. "How do people travel like this on a regular basis?"
"Necessity," Sasha said. "I admit a good deal of travel would be easier with sleds, but you do not seem to have those in this country. Yet another way, I would not doubt, to ensure travel was difficult enough that people largely remain isolated."
"What's a sled?" David asked, and Fritz had to admit he was curious himself … but even as his curiosity rose, Drache provided images for him.
Looks like fun, though I don't believe that is priestly behavior.
You were the priest of priests. You determined their behavior.
I sense that was a large part of the problem,
Fritz said bitterly, angry at his past self. Drache was silent, but Fritz could feel his agreement.
"So tell me of this voice," Meine said quietly while they pulled out travel food to eat and David made tea. "Drache, you said you called it?"
I am not an it,
Drache said hotly.
I may be little more than a memory in your mind, but I'm not an
it.
Fritz smiled briefly, amused. "Drache is
his
name, yes. He takes issue with being called 'it', though I think he's hard pressed to argue being only a memory or a figment."
"My apologies," Meine said. "I have never heard of such a thing. Why would a part of yourself be so separate? If he is your memory, a piece of you, why is he not
part
of you?"
"I assume it had to do with whatever Teufel did to me when he bound me to this life of High Seer, doomed to go mad and die when I turn forty."
Meine's eyes widened. "Forty? But—it was only days past your Holiness' fortieth birthday when … when everything finally went irrevocably wrong."
Fritz made a face. "That does not surprise me."
You did not tell me that.
I … I had forgotten. It was not a happy period of time and you cancelled the usual celebration because, quite honestly, there would have been no one who was able to attend. You were angry that Teufel and Licht had ruined even so trivial a thing. That all the little things were going away, on top of the larger problems. It was a tipping point. But they were barely listening to anyone by then, which made you angrier. For days you waited for them to return … and then it all went wrong.
The sorrow that filled his mind was too much for Fritz to take, and he rested his forehead in his hands until he could get control of himself again. He was drawn from his misery by the smell of tea and looked up to see David shyly offering him a cup. "Thank you," he said.