Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Goodbye Yellow Brick Road ❯ Part Thirty-Two ( Chapter 32 )

Part Thirty-Two

The managed their way into Yuotain and at first, everything was okay. Nothing looked too out of place. Nice quiet villages and countrysides.

But when they made their way into the capital city....

Even Heero was somewhat affected by the strife of the people. It almost scared him to go through the town. The way people were fighting and starving in the streets.

Just to see such pain on people....

He'd seen, in the course of five minutes, two men kill each other over a blanket, a mother carefully tearing away the flesh of a dog to feed her children, several corpses swarming with maggots and other nasty little creatures and other assorted sights that made him want to go back and hold Duo and protect him from such vile visions.

"It's like something straight out of my dreams," Duo murmured fearfully as his eyes darted back and forth, looking out the window.

"I don't care what any of them say," Quatre whispered. "I've got to prove myself as king."

The palace made Quatre want to cry. The beautiful walls and towers and brick and glory of his childhood were no longer. Now it was nothing but deteriorating stone. It held none of the glow that it did when the country was under his mother's hand. It was no longer a symbol of the strength of the country, but a display of corruption.

"Throw me a cloak," Quatre demanded, pounding on the window to halt Heero and Trowa, who were outside driving. "I can't take this any longer. I'm going in there. I am king."

"Quatre!" Duo cried, but Wufei handed him a cloak.

"It's your country. I would want the same for mine, if it was still there."

Quatre's hand hesitated on the cloak as he stared hard at Wufei. Wufei hadn't exactly been the nicest person to them in the past, so what was this gesture for?

Duo knew. He was a prince until his country was destroyed. He understood Quatre's pain.

Quatre threw on the cloak. Though he was wearing woman's riding clothes, they didn't look much different then men's, but for the top and that he would cover with the cloak.

"What do you need?" Heero asked as he opened the door.

"We're going in there and I'm announcing myself king," Quatre spoke firmly and there was fire in his eyes, which wasn't a sight that was seen often. They knew they had to let him.

"What do you plan to do?"

"Walk right into my palace and gather up the council and tell them I am king. And if there is no more council, I will tell everyone in the building and go about starting to fix things. I don't really give a damn who stands in my way! This is my country! If I don't take care of it, who will?"

Heero gave a firm nod. No one had heard Quatre curse, well, ever and so they knew he was serious. What could they argue? None of them were pleased with the events that were taking place in this city. None of them liked the idea of suffering, after they had experienced it and were finally free. Each of them wanted to see the people happy as much as Quatre did. No argument they brought up would hold enough strength against the easing of pain.

"We'll drive you in."

"Thank you."

With that he shut the door once more and hopped up.

"We're going into the palace," Heero told Trowa.

"I think this is a bad idea."

"Why are you being so negative toward Quatre all of the sudden?" Heero finally asked, annoyed.

Trowa sighed. "This just makes it all the more obvious...."

"What? That he's royalty? You really need to get over that."

Trowa was silent.

Duo bit his lip as he stared at the determination in Quatre's eyes and posture. It didn't feel right.... There was no plan. It was always better to have a plan....

But he really had no influence on the situation.

They pulled into the gates. Heero got past the guards just by wearing nice clothing. He supposed that wasn't a common sight.

They climbed out and Duo, who was dressed in full skirts and jewelry, grabbed Heero's arm as Quatre stormed in, the rest following nervously.

They turned around different winding staircases, and the more Quatre saw, the more upset he got. This was his home! And it seemed near abandoned. No one had dusted for what looked like years and only half the lights were lit. There were no smiling faces and happy people. There were no people waiting to be given advice. There was nothing!

It was dead.

He felt like his heart had died.

Finally he slammed open a door and was greeted by the faces of a few old men.

They turned to stare at him in disbelief, not to mention the four behind him, all of which were dressed nicely.

"Who...?" one old man began to ask.

"Is this the council?" Quatre shouted, crossing his arms over his chest in anger.

They nodded. There was only one young man that stuck out like a dove in a field of crows.

"And who are you?" he asked, pointing to the young man.

"Millardo," he replied smoothly, standing, golden hair shimmering down his back. "I am here to fix this country up."

"Not my country you won't!" he replied. "You don't touch this! I am Quatre Raberba Winner and I have returned to claim the throne!"

There was an audible gasp through the room before Millardo began to chuckle.

"You? Quatre Raberba Winner? He died as a child, we all know that."

"Then how do you explain the fact that I'm here?"

The other four were becoming exceedingly nervous. They didn't want any fighting, but that's what it looked like would happen.

"He does look like former Queen--"

"He's a fake!"

"Who would want to rule this country bad enough to fake it beside the true heir?" Quatre cried in frustration. "I know every door and every room and every servant in this entire palace and I can easily prove it!"

Well, Millardo was getting fairly pissed off. This little blond haired brat would not take his position away from him!

"I'd like to see this," he spoke calmly, but it was a little more sharp than before.

"Really? Okay! Come on!"

"Quatre," Heero warned, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Please calm yourself," he whispered. "Yelling won't get you anywhere."

He took a few breaths and faced Millardo once more, walking a little closer to him.

"This was my childhood home. All I ever knew. To see the country in such disarray, it just breaks my heart. Everything has deteriorated. This country is no longer a beautiful stronghold of happiness and strength, it is nothing, anymore. I remember when my mother ruled, the halls of this palace would be filled with people seeking advice, smiling, laughing, talking to other people, admiring the majesty of the place. There were occasional fights and bouts of the plague in the streets, of course, but over all everyone was safe and everyone was happy.

"Now I come back and I see this place, and I feel like crying. This is nothing like my joyous childhood memories, and it should be. I left for reasons that were beyond my control, and now I have returned and I am shocked at what I have found. I have to rule and make things the way they were once again. I have to show the people happiness. I have to make this country strong again," Quatre spoke. It wasn't a very grand speech, but he was trying to appeal to the older men's emotions for the city.

"Maybe he's right, Millardo," one of the council members spoke up.

"Yes. He seems to know the way things were before and he really wants to bring them back," another said.

"You want to change things too much. We want things the way they were," yet another supported Quatre and Millardo was beginning to lose control of his anger.

"Things didn't work before, don't you see! You need to revolutionize!"

"And what good will that do? Things didn't work before because there was no one on the throne," Quatre told him. "Now that I'm back, things should work fine. We don't need a revolution right now. What we need is order."

"Shut up!" Millardo finally screamed as the council began to speak.

Everyone stared at the raging man in front of them. His eyes seemed ablaze and his brows furrowed in deep anger.

He couldn't let his position be threatened.

And with out a second thought, he built a ball of his spirit inside of him and threw it mentally at the blond bitch.

The cackling ball of energy pounded through the air and you could feel it thumping around you, the high-pitched whistle of the air just barely heard as he smashed into Quatre, the impact throwing him against the wall.

Duo immediately ran to Quatre's side, the other three filling themselves with Talent. The council members didn't know what to think and one of them fell dead from heart attack.

"What the fuck are you?" Heero growled, setting up a nice wall of Earth threads to block this freak from harming Duo.

His face smoothed to perfect calm.

"I am Millardo Peacecraft and I am going to claim this throne and manipulate this country to my Lord's greatest desires," he cooed before raising a palm and throwing another ball of spirit in Heero's direction, but before it could hit him, he countered with Earth and they exploded against one another, a brilliant flash black and red, both men's auras flaming up around the almost meteor-like balls as they slammed into each other and burst into flame as they fell to the ground.

None of the five boys had ever seen anything like it, and it was skeptical whether Millardo had or not.

By this time the council members had sunk to the corners and had long since fainted or wet themselves. Nothing in the seventy or eighty years they served on the council had ever been so frightening for them.

"Clever, you are all very clever," Millardo chortled. "But no, no." He suddenly screamed, "I will not be out-done by Tem'Syo!"

He threw his weight in Quatre and Duo's direction, along with another piece of himself, but Quatre had at this time stood and screaming his own cry of mostly fear, threw his Spirit into Milliardo's.

There was an almost deafening clap of thunder as the two powers hit and the room exploded in brilliant white and deep, dark red as the two weavings bounce off of each other.

Everyone was blind momentarily, but as their eyes began to work once more they were caught with the fascination of watching the spirit be sucked back into both men.

It was as though time had stopped and both hung suspended in time. There was a low groaning sound as the weavings of their bodies shook to allow the spirit to re-enter their lives. Their very live's threads and existence.

The room had by this time almost fallen apart in the shear extreme of power possessed within the flimsy walls. It had definitely expanded and the marble of the floor cracked, some of the ceiling beams crashing to the ground.

Just as both men's bodies did react to the joining of their spirit and their souls.

THUMP

Both bodies hit the ground with a sickening crack and 'thud' as time re-began itself.

Duo searched frantically for Quatre's pulse as the other's regained themselves, Millardo lying on the floor, barely moving, save for his lips.

Which slowly spelled out the words... "Tem'Syo...shall...die..." and his hand shakily rose from the blood which pooled under it on the ground, his rib cage having long snapped and sticking at disturbing angels out of his skin--

"Fuck OFF!" Trowa suddenly shrieked, dashing madly across the floor, huge splinter-beam of wood clutched tight in his hand as he ran it solidly down through Millardo's chest.

A funky smile overcame Millardo's face as he gave out a weak last cough, blood spewing over his lips and cheeks and matting his hair.

"So warm," he rasped before his eyes closed in to perpetual night.

Trowa's heavy breath and Duo's quiet sobs were the only two noises left in the room.

~Til Then~