Work Text:
In the end, his efforts are for naught.
Conrad Leto, the 27th Wizard King of the Clover Kingdom, stares at the sky, and looks over the people he had sworn to protect. The capital is quiet, night having descended upon everyone equally, a darkness cast and thickened by the dense clouds which shrouded the moonlight overhead.
Filthy hypocrites, all of them.
Lovilia’s locket burns around his neck, a reminder that human nature would not change, would never change. No amount of kindness, no amount of faith, no soft nudge nor encouragement could ever erase the inhumanity that laid within human hearts. The inherent cruelty that laid in man, a constant discrimination from the strong towards the weak would always perpetuate, a poison he thought he could pull from its roots as the Wizard King.
For all that the title was meant to be a beacon of faith, hope, and love, for all the power it came with, he could not change anything.
“Never giving up is my magic!”
With every change he tried to push for, to take action and promote the invitation of commoners into the Magic Knights, to open up more roles for them in higher society, to help manage the affairs of the kingdom, had come an ever present pushback and retaliation from the Royalists, from the nobles.
Furthermore, those who remained at the bottom for far too long, had long since given up on their dreams, wallowing in their self pity and accepting the fates imposed on them by those who had no right to do so.
He had tried to pave the way, to be an example, and yet the arrogance, the bitter pride and distance between classes still stood.
As he looks at the letter Julius had delivered to him, he can only crush the paper within his palms.
‘I’m sorry, Conrad. I tried to stop them, I managed to save some of the White Serpent squad members, but the rest…including Lovilia, I could not. ’
He would thank Julius for his efforts, for helping to watch out for his previous squad. His comrades, the students and mentees he had raised when he had once been a captain.
There was only so much tolerance the nobles and royals would give him for his ideals. The ideals that directly opposed the fundamental, discriminatory views that the nobles clung onto, that magic was what defined a person.
They would not open their eyes to look past the narrow definitions of meritocracy they had set only for their fellow kind to excel in, would not open the doors to magic users who had the willingness to try, citing that they were nothing but useless and deadweight. They were blind, no, they willingly blinded themselves to the potential those not born of the same social class had, basking in their pool of inherited magic potential, lounging in their wealth, their corruption and their own isolated world.
He had tried so hard, had tried for so long.
When they finally had enough of him, they turned on his squad, and murdered his wife.
He has tried for long enough.
He would put an end to this.
He had been waiting, after all. Now that the results of the investigation had come to light, allowing him to determine who had the audacity to slaughter his men and try to cover it up…he realised that this nation was rotten to its core.
He takes in the last inhale of the cold night air.
He would remake Clover Kingdom by dawn.
“Conrad.”
He turns his gaze to look at the intruder who had joined him on the roof of the tallest spire of the palace.
“Julius. You should not be here.”
Julius Novachrono, who had been his best man at his wedding with Lovilia, who had been by his side when the both of them became Captains of their respective squads, who had…done his best to save his squad when he could not have done so, who was the one who came the closest to understanding him. Julius called out to him.
“Don’t. Please don’t do anything drastic.”
Julius…who had been by his side when they found Lovilia, Julius…who had been with him at her funeral, who had been with him when he grieved.
Julius, the one whom he once shared his dream with, who was asking him to stop.
Conrad clutched onto the amulet around his neck.
He was a good man.
“Don’t try to stop me, Julius. You should leave while you can.”
Julius, who stepped into the faint light of parted clouds, the hidden full moon casting its gaze upon the two of them. Julius, who had bloodied bandages around his palms, who looked equally tired, equally exhausted, equally lost. Conrad had never seen him look this unsettled, the toll of the past month’s events having exacted an equal price on the both of them.
“Please, Conrad. I don’t want to lose you too.”
Conrad stiffens.
The blond looks at him, violet eyes looking straight into his own.
“I’ve made my choice. You cannot stop me.”
It was a betrayal that stung.
“I don’t want to be forced to stop you. Please, give me a chance to change your mind.”
“You would stand in my way? You would stop me from purging this kingdom of the filth that robbed me of my wife, and you, of one of your closest friends? You would choose to allow this corruption, this sickening rot, this inhumanity to continue?”
Conrad was well aware that his mana was flaring up, a tight pressure hanging in the air, which bore down on the shoulders of both of them. Julius was more than capable of resisting it, as the blond took a slow step forward. Conrad bristled at the movement, as Julius held both of his hands out placatingly, a show of goodwill.
“Please give the people a chance. Let the justice system punish the perpetrators we managed to apprehend. Not everyone is cruel, as callous and apathetic as you see them all now in your grief and range. The people…they need time to learn, time to understand, time to change.”
“And how many more will die when we wait for them to change? How much more suffering, how many more deaths will continue?” Conrad’s words are a bitter blade, which has Julius instinctively tighten his grip, curling his nails and digging them into his already injured palms.
Zara’s funeral was carved into his mind.
He really thought he could change things this time round.
“We can change this. Help the less fortunate, those who have been discriminated against, use our authority to prevent such abuse and malicious intent, just please, give them one more chance. The people need more time.”
“Have I not given them ample time? Ample opportunity?”
Julius could not deny the truth in his words. The glint of madness in Conrad’s eyes shone bright, and Julius wished he were better with words now more than ever.
For if there was anyone he could hope to save, it would be Conrad.
“This is not the first time this has happened. Previous Wizard Kings have tried, and failed to move the hearts of the people. Which is why I must resort to such drastic actions. Surely you understand why I must do this.”
“I do. I understand why you feel like you must do this, and I implore you to stop. You cannot change people’s hearts and minds by force or through oppression. It would make you no different from the nobles who you despise so much so.”
Julius does not flinch, even when Conrad’s blade lies against the edge of his throat, cutting into the length of his skin. Blood trickles down his neck, stains the blade that Conrad had drawn on him.
“...You…”
“I do not want to resort to force. That is my promise, Conrad. If you wish to harm me…if you are willing to bear having to shed my blood for the sake of your grief warped dream…then draw my blood, and take my life.”
Julius…He looks at him with eyes that are haunted. His violet irises, once filled with life and mirth, now emptied out into a pale desolation, a bitter cynicism, hanging onto the smallest thread of hope. Unlike his own, where he had long since given up, until he found himself with nothing but resentful despair.
“You once told me that your magic was never giving up.” Julius smiled, a sad smile, a joyful reminiscence that retained its purity in spite of the circumstances and the bittersweetness of the present and near future.
Conrad stills.
After all this time, Julius still trusted him. Still believed in him.
Conrad tightens his grip on Elsdocia, which he had deemed the only weapon capable of killing the man before him. Its crystal blade was stained with the blood of his best friend, with the blood of the one last person who still believed in him. The last person who still mattered to him.
“Are you not tired of this as well? Of all this perpetual misery, prejudice, bigotry, and classism? Of the radical ideals people would kill to defend, to stomp out those who would pose a threat to them?”
“...I am. This road is a long, hard journey. Which is why it is all the more important to never give up. To never lose faith and hope.”
Julius looks at him, something akin to a faraway fondness in his eyes.
“There is a future out there, where things get better. No matter how painful it is now, we must hold out hope and believe in ourselves, believe in others. I…I should have known how lonely it must have been for you, at the top.”
Conrad knew liars. Had been surrounded by two faced people all his life, having had to navigate the pit of snakes that alternated between trying to suck up to him or whispering venomous lies behind his back.
Julius did not lie. The naive, optimistic fool still believed.
Was it a foolish dream?
If it was, how could he still speak of the future so freely, so confidently? How could he know that things would get better? That change would happen, and remain? How could he bear all of this, atop all of the losses they had suffered, would continue to suffer?
Julius looks at him, violet eyes shining bright.
“Let me by your side through this journey, Conrad.”
Perhaps…with Julius by his side, his dream could be realised. No, their dream. He could not possibly kill him, his dear friend, who had spurred him to pick himself up when he had fallen down, when he had helped to save his squad members when he was, ironically, powerless to do so.
Conrad lowers Elsdocia.
“...Tch. You speak as if you’ve lived through the future.”
Conrad looks away from the blond, as he looks over the kingdom he had sworn to protect.
“...That isn’t too far from the truth…” Julius mutters quietly, so softly that the other barely picks it up. With his recent burst of foresight and ingenuity as of late, Conrad would not be surprised if some of that optimism spilled over.
The blond had always been hard to read, especially of late. Before his wedding, there was a period of time in which Julius had seemed to have matured, to have withdrawn into himself for weeks at a time. Even Yami had called upon him to help pull his mentor out of his slump, which was surprising because it was so out of character for him.
Still, he had made sure the man was not possessed by another, and after a while, Julius seemed to return to his usual self, if not with more enthusiasm.
“You said you would help me fix this kingdom.”
“I did.”
“Then you better make sure there’s some tangible results. I would be a fool if I let you stop me with a few cheesy words like that.”
Julius chuckled. It was rough, laced with a heaviness to it, as the man seemed to heave a sigh.
“It’s not just some cheesy one-liners if they were able to dissuade you like that. I’m more than willing to put my faith in you, Conrad.”
This time round, he would make things right. All of it would start with his best friend, Conrad Leto.
“Enough, enough. Don’t make me regret letting you change my mind.” The Wizard King bristled, though more so out of annoyance than actual frustration. He sheathes the natural treasure, returning it into his hidden inventory constructed using his magic. Looking at the blood which beaded upon his friend’s neck, he decided he needed to make up for the wound he had inflicted on him.
“Come closer.”
Julius blinks, as he obeys Conrad’s instruction, and the Wizard King sets two fingers along the wound he had made on his throat. Healing magic pours into his skin, a soothing balm that removes the stinging pain and vanishes the blood that had trickled along his skin.
The silent apology that came through in the action alone was obvious.
“...What did you know of my plan?”
His fingers still remained on Julius’s throat. The blond looks at him, eyes focussed, gaze heavy.
“You would have rebelled. The national treasure was missing. The complex lock on the vault is only accessible by one who knows its location and has the clearance to do so. I put two and two together.”
Conrad pulls his hand back.
“I suppose you should count yourself lucky you were here at the right time. Any later, and it would have been too late.”
“I refuse to be too late for anyone else.”
Julius’s words are filled with a hidden, violent grief, which Conrad felt all the same. The shared loss and grief of not being there for someone they cared for, for someone they wanted to protect. The Wizard King looks at him, gaze moving over to bandaged hands.
“...Your hands. No one has ever drawn your blood on the battlefield. Who hurt you?”
Julius gives him a weak smile.
“It is of no worry. A reminder that I am powerless as I am now to prevent someone else from dying, even when I believed I was strong enough, was wise enough to prevent such an outcome.”
Conrad’s gaze sharpened.
“So you take it out on yourself? Don’t be an idiot, Julius. You know better than to indulge in emotions like those.” He could not understand why Julius would take out his rage, his powerlessness, against himself. Still, as Conrad looks at the bandages, hints of a bleeding wound soaking through the white fabric, he can understand.
He was lying to himself if he said he did not understand.
The pain of having all the power in the world, yet being unable to use it to protect those he cared for.
“I believe it is better if I took out anger upon myself, than to let it fall upon others. After all, this…was truly my fault.”
Conrad raised an eyebrow. Anger and Julius were two things he would not associate. In the years he had known the blond, never had he once seen him angry, or even mildly infuriated. Sure, annoyance had been gleaned from the tight smiles he gave others, but he had always been patient and forgiving. If he was particularly bothered, there would only be curt politeness.
“That’s why you refuse to heal them, then.” Julius’s wordless silence is an affirmation.
With this new fact in mind, Conrad reconsiders his options. Now that his plans for rebellion were scrapped, he had, however, gained a new insight to the one whom he thought he knew well enough.
“Become my advisor. Help me shape this kingdom into the ideal world it should have been, the ideal world it will be. Forge it into the future you foresaw.”
“Gladly.”
Thus, the rebellion of the 27th Wizard King was thwarted, for it never took place. Fate may have once again claimed Lovilia and Zara Ideale’s life, but Julius Novachrono had seen a different route, one that he was determined to see it through.