I'm the darkness, you're the starlight
shining brightly from afar
through hours of despair
I offer this prayer to you, my evening star
~ Final Fantasy VI: Opera "Maria & Draco"
Chapter one
He couldn't breath through the pain lacing his frail body, his arms were weak and shaking uncontrollably, his hands were pale and his skin looked cracked, dark veins long the his flesh.
He couldn't remember his name...he couldn't remember much of anything only the pain and the darkness.
His ragged breaths sounded heavy and wet as he tried in vain to lift his head, he didn't know where was, was he somewhere safe?
he felt desolate...abandoned! Lost, yes he knew he was lost. He knew he'd been lost for a very very long time...trapped writhing in screams of agony, calling out for death.
Calling out for someone...anyone to set him free.
Pain! Pain! Pain!
His head was clouded wracked with splintering pain, a thousand tiny needles simultaneously attacking his skull.
He cried out a pathetic sound palming his head.
Slowly the onslaught of torture on his head subsided.
He pushed his body to move wracked with pain as it was, with trembling limbs he reached out to feel his darkened surroundings, hands meeting cool smooth stone he added pressure leaning into the wall and leveraged himself to his shaking legs, his knees buckled bending against his will though he managed to catch himself before he hit than ground.
With a will of iron, slowly he forced his body to stand and his legs to move all the while keeping his palms flat against the stone applying pressure to remain stable, coughing he slipped nearly loosing the balance he'd so painstakingly gained.
Exhaustion had his focus slipping and his palms slipped down the smooth stone grazing the skin of his hand, he stumbled again as pain attacked his limbs and with a frustrated groan he slid back into the cold floor.
He wanted to scream...he wanted this pain to end...he couldn't go on like this anymore! Powerless and weak, he wished for nothing but death.
Leave me and go, if you don't want to be trapped into the demon world... I'm staying. This place was our father's home.
He clutched at his head as the words echoed around him. He wanted to go home...where was home? Did he have a home? He needed something...or was it someone...everything was confused and warped and mixing together into one large jumble of nonsense.
Unfortunately, our souls are at odds, brother. I need more power!
Power...brother...power...more power, brother, brother brother!
He cries out an agonising sound echoing off the stone wall, trembling hands pounded the concrete floor as the voices continued their onslaught.
Faster...sharper..louder until they were deafening and completely consuming.
Am I... being defeated?
Brother!
Brother!
Brother!
He was too weak to attempt standing so simply leaned against the cool stone wall, his eyes felt leaden with grit as he stared into the darkness. Listening as the voices continued and his mind shouted that one simple word.
Brother!
Did he have a brother? Is that what he was searching for? He couldn't make sense of the voices as the barrage streamed on continuously in disarray.
And we're supposed to be twins...
Twins, right...
That voice stirred something within him, he felt a warmth within his chest stretch out and yawn. He knew that voice, had alway and would always know that voice.
Vergil...Dante...Happy Birthday.
Wow! Cool!
I want chocolate!
No, I want chocolate!
That sweet voice soft, soothing causing his heart to drum rapidly. He felt tears gather in his eyes as that beautiful voice echoed in his head. He needed that voice now...had missed that voice for so long. He could imagine her hand stroking his cheek gently as he lay in bed woken by a nightmare, she would smile telling him no matter how bad the dream.
I will always be here...by your side Vergil!
She would kiss the top of his head and breath him in for a moment before tucking him back under the covers her flaxen hair hanging loose over her shoulders.
I love you!
His eyes closed as tears slid over his cheeks, the voice of his mother soothing his burning soul.
How he wished he could wake from this nightmare to her soothing voice and loving kisses, how he longed to feel warm and safe within her embrace.
How he longed for his brother!
that debilitating fog blanketing his mind was stretching thinner and thinner, pieces of memory clicking together creating clarity within him but also leaving feeling naked and alone, drowning with a bittersweet slowness as his life began flashing at lightening speed behind his closed lids...he almost wished he could forget once again as everything flashed before him like a motion picture, his mother's death clearest of all at the forefront.
His brother defeating him.
His leap further into the dark abyss of the underworld.
Mundus' torture... his fall at the hands of Mundus how he'd been reduced to becoming a mindless puppet. At the end of it he had been weaker than his brother when he'd always thought himself superior in strength.
Dante!
His power hadn't been enough, never enough.
All he'd ever longed for was power - his inability to protect Dante and his mother had born his obsession.
Yet the more he gained, the more he yearned it was a never ending cycle.
He was an addict cursed to spend eternity in search of his fix yet left only yearning more.
it had done him no good in the end!
He had fallen, powerless and weak. Mundus had stripped him of the person he had been, Mundus had taken everything he had been and twisted and moulded him something else.
he'd seen a light shining in the eternal darkness, his brothers amulet glowing in the distance, calling him, taunting him with promises of freedom, even if that freedom meant death.
He sped forward beating at the obsidian walls with bare firsts until a crack splintered through the walls.
Screaming and clawing through until finally obsidian walls shattered into a million shards and he broke free.
it didn't even matter if he were to die anyway he had finally found freedom from that ever consuming darkness.
Finally he could breath free of his chains.
All that mattered was freedom.
Dante
he wished he could see him one last time before his final end.
he wanted to hear his stupid voice just once berating him for everything he had done!
He would even take his brother mocking taunts.
He didn't care what Dante would say.
His eyes drifted closed exhaustion finally claiming him, his body shivered with cold or perhaps fever, but he could do nothing to gain warmth anyway so he slept, his mind playing through images as he drifted off.
Into sweet oblivion.
— —
Something was prodding him in the arm as he came back to consciousness, he blinked clearing the grit from his eyes.
It was lighter here now, and he could see it was a basement he'd found himself in. He still couldn't determine where he was, but he was no longer without warmth, a pale blanket had been placed over his body.
"Hey...what are you doing here?" a small voice whispered next to him. " this is my hiding spot"
Mustering the strength he turned his head searching for the owner of the voice, hidden to the left of him beneath a small table was a boy sitting cross legged watching him wearily.
"Sleeping...obviously" his voice sounded gravelly and he suddenly remembered having not used it for sometime.
The boy scrunched his nose " I'm not stupid! You can't be here, this is my spot, I found it first" he crossed his arms continuing to glare.
He groaned as his body screamed in protest to his movements, slowly teeth gritted against the pain he pulled himself up as much as he could, the boy jump at his movements and shuffled further under the table blue eyes bright.
He was content to say nothing more to the boy and likewise the child made no attempt to speak. Though he continued to glare his little arms folded.
Closing his eyes against the brightness he let out a breath, the fog in his mind dissipating slowly enabling him to recall some memories clearer while other memories remained distorted and warped - faces and places blurred with muted sounds.
His very flesh felt as if flames had licked across his skin, leaving behind raw tenderness that stung no matter how he tried to block it out.
I'm sorry...Dante.
He was, truly! Too long had he fought against the very feelings that consumed him. He had closed a door long ago, blaming his brother for his shortfalls, laying blame at Dante's feet for the fate he had endured since their mother's death.
Those helplessness all consuming feelings of loss, pain and abandon had swallowed him until one day all he thought about was becoming strong.
Stronger than even his father, Sparda!
He'd taken those feeling of grief and loneliness and warped them into his own narrow minded view where power and might drove him forward. Night and day he had strived to become stronger, faster, a raging storm needing that fix of power.
Thoughts of his mother and brother had driven him on, at that time he had thought they were both gone. It as only years later when he heard rumours that he had found Dante again, alive and whole and still that energetic infuriatingly cocky boy.
They had both changed in that time spent apart, his brother remaining his sense of justice and thriving within mortal society.
While he had become stronger than his brother, a master swordsman and more knowledgeable of their demonic heritage and the glorious power to be obtained. But he had become cold, closed off and he found he had little in common with his brother.
"Why is your skin like that?" He blinked having forgotten the boy in his musings.
" that's...none of your concern" he was so tired he couldn't even open his eyes when he answered the child.
The child shuffled around noisily " you look...sick!...Are you sick?"
"Likely I am dying" he forced out coughing as his throat began protesting.
The child fell silent at his words, perhaps he should have used a little tact with his answer but with his mind clouded as it was, the words poured from him before he had thought it through.
" I tried to look after a sick bird once" said the boy quietly.
He fell silent again and he opened an eye to peer under the table, the child was chewing his lip lost in thought. From his vantage point he observed the boy quietly, he must have only been around eight perhaps pushing nine years old.
His face was pale with chubby cheeks of youth, his blue eyes large and bright and his pale hair sat in disarray atop his head. There was a familiarity about the child that he just couldn't place.
"The bird died...I couldn't fix it" he said finally leaning forward to watch him with piercing blue eyes.
A tolling bell sounded distantly causing the boy to hurriedly crawl from his place and jump to his feet.
"dinner bell" he said smoothing his dusty clothes and sprinting past him toward the door.
Seemingly struck by a sudden thought the boy stopped tilting his head to the side " I'll try and bring some food...can't promise though" with that said he left.
He watched the child leave surprised to feel a pang of disappointment, the boys presence had been comforting and a good distraction from his pain.
He was alone once again, silently he hoped the boy would return.
He couldn't bare to be alone and his longing for Dante returned.
With a resigned sigh he closed his eyes again.
Hoping that soon death would sweep in on swift wings to claim him.
—
I have no ownership right to Devil May Cry, only Capcom have that privilege.
This is set post DMC 1. I needed a break from writing Legacies pt1 and just started writing this.
When I read it back and tweak it here and there, I was actually pretty impressed with how it turned out.
It will be Vergil/Nero focused however Dante will be along later on.