Universe: DMC Alternate Universe
Genre(s): Mystery, Romance, Action/Adventure
Warnings: There are no warnings for this chapter.
Prelude
Droplets of cool water slid from his face, framing the sockets of his eyes. Pale blue, they bore into his own reflection, scrutinizing. The biggest mystery in his life had become his own identity. He was unsure who he exactly was and where he belonged in the grand scheme of things. It wasn't unheard of for the knight to have questioned if he was following the right path. However, it was only upon the gruesome discovery of the previous day that a question of change truly arose. At night, he found himself lying awake, trying to decide if it was simply for the sake of progress or wholly inhumane. Scenes flashed through his memory that sickened him beyond doubt, and, yet, he kept telling himself that the subject of those memories was unlike himself or a citizen of Fortuna or any person picked at random from any one place. It was unfeeling, dead, though the memory of its face contorting in agony begged to differ.
Forcing air from his nostrils, the knight clenched his eyes shut and shook his head as if to sling all thought from his mind. He ignored the nauseous feeling in his gut, concentrating on slipping into uniform for a day of work he admittedly dreaded. For once, he found himself longing for the usual monotony of his every day. Buttoning up his pristinely white jacket garnered a sigh. Accented in gold, he appeared to be some sort of ornament commemorating much older times—something made to display on a shelf. Sometimes, that was how he felt, for the man staring back at him from the mirror was not him. He never had been and never would be. But that man was better suited to belonging in the world than himself and, thus, was awarded control more often than not.
He let the man escort him to The Order's headquarters on the outskirts of Mitis Forest. He smiled and waved at passersby, whom never missed the opportunity to greet him. He was a skilled warrior with a handsome face and very popular amongst the citizens of Fortuna. If only they knew of the black sheep—or, rather, wolf—hiding inside of him, he would be an outcast. However, he hid himself well. He was the picture of an ideal knight, what every man in Fortuna wanted to be and what every woman wanted to marry.
The day was very dreary, the sky overcast by thick, gray storm clouds. The rain was very heavy at times, but, at that moment, it was only drizzling. His boots fell in shallow puddles that pooled in depressions in the long walkway leading to headquarters. Each footfall was met by a gentle splash of slightly warm rainwater. The sensation of a droplet plopping onto his head was rather soothing. It had always perplexed him as to why others cared to shelter their heads from such light rain.
Stepping into the grand foyer of the castle, he immediately garnered the attention of every man in the vicinity. It was for only a brief moment that they cast their eyes on him, some with envy, others with indifference. There was only one pair of eyes that remained on him, growing closer with every moment. He slowed his steps to a halt, waiting for the man to meet him. When the clicking of his boots on the marbled floors ceased, the brunette stood stiffly before him, his expression neutral.
"Good morning, Dante," said the captain. "I have an assignment for you."