Hello, people of Fanfiction. It has been quite a long time since I last written on this site. If you have read my other fanfic, you probably know that I am writing my own book. Volume 1 has been officially finished and published. It is online for everyone to read for free on FictionPress and Wattpad, link at the end of this chapter.
Now, a few words about this fanfic. The main character is a character from my book, so even if I do not own the Highschool DxD franchise, I do own my Ocs. He is a very important character to the overall story, and arguably my favourite. The problem is that in order to reach the point that he is introduced, it will take me roughly 2-3 years. It is an 8 book series after all. But I wanted to write something about him, so here we are now. Do not worry, for the ones that might want to follow me afterwards, there won't be any spoilers.
A silent night. No moon in the sky, just clouds. A cold breeze, calmly passing through the trees, as their branches gently dance to its touch.
In the blackness, a figure can be seen, a tall building that shadowed even the darkest corners. A church at first, an abandoned mess after a better look. Its walls rotten, the passage of time clearly visible in the black marks decorating them. The windows were surprisingly intact. Not even a single crack across their surface. They were coloured, in powerful bright hues, a way to prevent light from the inside, ever finding its way to the outside world.
A church, a symbol of compassion, a symbol of unity, a house that would shelter every lost soul, that god might have forgotten about. The home of God himself was reduced to nothing but the hideout of the very same people, that had once resented him. It was ironic, but also a sign. Either of salvation or absolute betrayal.
Its insides were no much different. Everything seemed in place. The benches were lined perfectly, one behind the other. The altar was still there, as well as the chandelier. But just like its outsides, everything was rotten. The white colour of the marble, had turned into a gloomy grey. No pictures around, nowhere. Not even the statue of Jesus, that watches over everyone and judged the sinners. It was as if everything that made that place, the home of God, had been purposely removed.
Three people were quietly sitting, waiting for something, for someone. Then a female voice echoes through the hall, coming from above, where the dome was. Like an angel, descending from the heavens, so did she. However, there were no pure- white wings, nor a holy aura that heals the souls of the hurt. It was the exact opposite. A being of darkness, that had fallen from the heavens. Lost its colours and purpose and given into its urges. Once a messenger of hope, now a prostitute.
She lands on top of the altar, her wings close behind her and disappear, before sitting down, crossing her legs. A pair of eyes can be seen, locked onto the three people in front of her. Violet in colour, they were the moon that was missing from that night.
" Are the preparations finished?" She asks. Her voice was sweet, charming, tempting... but also cold and apathetic. It held no love, no regard.
" Everything is going according to the schedule, captain." A male voice is heard this time around. " We will be able to begin the extraction process tomorrow evening. But until then, there is nothing we can do."
" It is fine, I waited so long for this, I can wait a little longer. Just make sure our "guest" feels comfortable, for the rest of her staying." She says, as a smile spreads across her face. It was a smile of joy, the joy a murderer experiences when comforting its victim. It was sadistic, filled with ill intent.
As their conversation continues, a loud sound is heard from outside. It was nothing like they have heard before. Like a crash, or maybe a drop. Perhaps both together or none at all. They go outside to investigate, but in fake forms.
There, on the cold hard ground, lie a man, with his back towards the sky. He was not moving. There were no signs, hinting towards where he came from. No vehicle around, no traces of magic, nothing.
They step closer, curious of their mysterious visitor. The first thing they notice is his hair. It was white, like the purest snow, completely unworldly. Long and kinda spiky, reaching to his shoulders. He wore a long, light-grey tunic, made out of silk. Even from this distance, it was pretty clear that its quality was beyond everything they have seen before. But what was most impressive, was his mantle. Silver in colour, it seemed like it started from the front, partially covering his chest, before dropping behind him. It looked as if able to consume them whole, only unable to thanks to its unconscious owner.
Time passes by, as they stay in place, looking at the man on the floor. Their faces, expressing their feelings. Baffled and filled with wonder, as well as fear. They might be the ones who are looking down at him, but the chill that suddenly passes through the air, warns them not to.
The woman from before is the first to snap out from this trance. She musters her courage and closes the distance between the two. When she stands above him, she gives him a slight push with her foot, turning him around. Her companions follow their captain's movement and come by her side.
Now, they are able to see his face. It is a young man, probably in his mid-twenties. The harsh skin and multiple scars, tell tales of battles and hardships. In contrast with his otherwise smooth facial characteristics.
" Who is this man?" She asks, without expecting any answers.
" And how are we supposed to know?" Another woman from the group tells her.
She looks back at her in annoyance but soon gives up, realising that being mad to an idiot is just a waste of time.
" Is he an enemy?" The man this time asks.
" I can not feel anything coming from him. Just what is he?" The voice of a girl adds.
" Raynare, can you sense anything?"
" I... I don't know. It doesn't seem like magic, at least a form that I am familiar with, but I can sense something. It is cold, freezing. One thing is for sure though, this man is neither like us nor them, he is... different." She says. They can hear the fear, that hides behind her voice.
" Shall we kill him then? I feel he is too dangerous to allow to live." The man speaks his mind.
" No! I first want to talk to him, to learn who and what he is. After that, if I decide that he is a danger, then we kill him. Understood?" She asks, her menacing look giving no room for disagreements.
" Great, bring him inside then."
Following her orders, they carry the unconscious man back into the church. They go down some stairs, hidden under a trap door, before finding themselves in a long corridor. Wooden doors left and right, all along its length. They open one of them and enter. It was a room, all white, no other colours. With only a bed inside and nothing else. More like a cell rather than a bedroom. They lie the man on it and leave.
.
Enchanted by the silence, that governed the night sky, Raynare falls into deep sleep. She dreams about the power she will acquire, the praise she will receive, the attention of the man she had been looking up to. Everything would finally go her way, everything she had ever wanted would become hers, in only one night. She could almost taste the sweetness of her hard work, she just had to grab them, those two rings.
Roughly pulling her out of this fantasy, was the shouting of one of her companions. The door to her room bursts open and a woman in a violet, trenchcoat-like top enters inside.
" Ray, you have to see this." She practically yells at her.
" Wha... what happened?" Raynare asks in a state between asleep and awake.
" Our new guest has woken up."
" And you are telling me this, because..."
" Because you told us you wanted to talk to him when he comes around."
" That could have waited until morning." She says in an unpleasant tone.
" Believe me, it couldn't. Just go already, would you? I have reasons for waking you up, I am not stupid you know!"
" We will see that." She says as she leaves the comfort of her bed.
She walks out of the room, her clothes manifesting with every step, and heads towards the "guest area". Once there she finds the rest of her group, silently waiting outside the wooden door. No words are exchanged, only looks. The man opens it up for her, making a gesture to enter inside, before closing it behind her.
She can see him, sitting on his bed, looking towards the wall. His hair, a white paint in front of an empty canvas. It was cold, as if spring had suddenly run away, and winter had taken this place for his. The vapors of her breathing, visible in the air, her teeth chatter, as she tries to warm herself up.
She decides not to go any closer, to the man that even the weather seems to fear. Instead, she stands by the door, where she feels safe, and greets him.
" I... see you have woken up." She says in the nicer tone she can manage, trying to keep it as steady as possible.
" I suppose I have." The man answers her. His voice is powerful, but at the same time gentle and calming.
Raynare is taken aback, as their gazes meet. His attire and voice, were not the most ordinary she had ever seen, but nothing could prepare her for the emptiness that were his eyes. No pupils, no colours, only an endless white, like a desert covered in snow. They were unemotional, not fitting to a living being.
" Who... who are you?" She asks, her voice trembling, as she can feel the land underneath her feet sweeping away.
He looks at himself, at his clothes, his hands. He closes his eyes, as if trying to bring memories back from a place long forgotten. However, there is nothing. Only an endless white abyss, like himself.
" I... I don't remember. I... can't remember. Who am I?" He asks, in a state of true wonder.
" You don't remember who you are?" Raynare tries to confirm his words.
" No... neither who I am, nor how I got here." He says before turning his attention towards her. " But... you do, don't you?"
" Unfortunately I don't. We just happened to find you ling on the ground outside of our church, and decided to take you in." She chooses not to tell any lies, her fear prevents her from doing so.
" My name is Raynare by the way." She says, offering him her hand, followed by her sweetest smile.
" Raynare..." He repeats, making sure not to forget it as well.
" Exactly, and this is my team." The door opens to her words, and three people come in. They stand by her side, opposite to the man. They are looking down at him, trying to act superior, but their eyes tell otherwise.
" The slutty one is named Kalawarner. The man is called Dohnaseek, and the little one over there is Mittelt."
" You could have at least pretended to be more excited when introducing us."
" I could have... but I don't care enough to do so." Raynare cuts her off.
Unlike their captain, none of them greets the man in front of them. They decide to ignore his presence entirely, like a fly in a room.
" Now that you have met everybody, I think it is time we consider what you will do."
" What do you mean by that?"
" I mean that, in your condition, unable to remember even your name, I can't possibly allow you to leave like that. It would haunt my subconsciousness. So... how about staying here with us, until your memories come back? And if they don't, we... no, I am willing to help you find them. How does that sound?" She offers him. She wants to keep him close, until she finds a way to make use of him. But for the meantime, she must first persuade him to stay with her.
" And why would you go out of your way to help a stranger like me?"
" Because my instinct tells me to. Do I need more reasons other than that?"
He stays in silence, thinking about what to do. He is a nobody, in a land that he does not know. What other choice does he have, other than to trust the woman who found and took care of him?
" I hope I don't become a burden." He says with a smile of approval.
" Perfect. Now, I am going to let you rest for tonight because tomorrow there is much to be done."
She leaves the room, but before the door closes, she turns around for one final word.
" Also, we have another guest in this church. She is a small, blond girl named Asia. Be careful not to run to her, she isn't a very sociable person."
And with that, the night continuous its natural course.
.
Morning had passed before he even realised it was there, and night had once again fallen upon the world. Raynare had warned him not to leave his room that day, especial during the night. He was to stay here, no matter what happened, no matter what he might hear happening behind his door. At first, he thought she was over exaggerating, but now he was witnessing what she meant by that.
The sound of battle, echoing through the air. Swords clashing, bricks falling, screams of pain and agony. It was his first time hearing those sound, but still... they seemed so familiar, like an everyday aspect of life.
After the storm however, comes the calm, an uneasy silence which he knew very well what it meant. The victor had been decided.
Curiosity fills his heart, but most of all concern, towards the woman that had been acting as his host. It might seem ridiculous, being concerned about someone who he had just met. But to him, that woman was the one who picked him up, a man with no idea of who or what he is. He was feeling obliged to help her, just as she helped him.
An inner voice tempts him to leave his room. It talks about the chances of the silence filling the air, being the silence that comes before her death. How was he going to repay her kindness then? Wasn't it better to go and check? If she has come out victorious then he can face the punishment for disobeying her later, but if she hasn't... there won't be a later.
With that in mind, he opens the door and rushes up the stairs. He can now hear voices. They are low, simply talking. A man, and a woman. The second one's voice is trembling, she is afraid. Her words take the form of pleading and become louder. He has to hurry.
.
Her hand is glowing red. Filled with power, fueled by emotions. It holds the tainted love of a young boy, the hatred of a master, as well as the rage of an entire race. It is malice manifested, it is destruction itself. Its target, the woman ling on the ground in front of her. She tries to back away, but there is nowhere left to run, no one to help her either. Death, is a one-way road.
A smile spreads across the "killer's" face, her hair red, as the blood of her enemies. For her, this whole thing was nothing more than a chore. Disposing of the trash that polluted her yard. Shooting the crows that played havoc in her field. The woman's pleading had no effect, why would it? Do humans feel guilty? Do they feel sorry for the crow, that is too, pleading for its life? They don't, so neither will she.
As she is about to bring her hand down however, and deliver punishment, a chill passes through her body. The air freezes and breathing suddenly becomes a lot harder. The floor begins to crystallise, as a fog starts filling the room.
She looks at her peerage, that is silently waiting behind her. Their eyes share the same shock as hers. She then turns her attention towards the woman in front of her, only to see the shame look. What is happening, is the question that passes through everybody's mind.
The trap door opens widely, and from it a wave of mist surges into the room. It is cold, like the cloud that follows the reaper around. The ground, floor and walls, all freeze to its touch.
They all back way, even the woman on the floor, that was about to be executed, prefers to go closer to her "killers", than to even stand near that thing.
Inside that mist, a figure can be seen. It is faint, but there is someone inside. His presence alone is enough to stop the blood in their veins. They fall on the floor, on their knees, as if giving up. Only the red hair and another black hair girl stay on their feet.
" Who are you?!" She yells.
To answer her question, the figure comes into the world of light. It was a man, dressed in a grey tunic, along with a long silver mantle, falling behind his back. His hair white, like the purest snow. His eyes... empty. Lifelessly looking at her. She doesn't know what to say, she can't find the words to describe her feelings. Was it fear, or maybe respect. Perhaps the feeling a lesser organism has when comforting its superior.
" You... you are..." The woman from before manages to mutter.
" That is enough!" The man says in a voice, that is powerful and imposing, but at the same time charming. " Step away from her and tell me who you are and what you want here.".
She doesn't want to comply, but her body follows his orders without her approval. Her peerage copies her actions.
He goes to her side and helps her stand up. Allowing her to lean on his shoulder for support.
" Are you ok, Raynare?"
" I... I am. Thank you..." She says with an empty voice of relief.
" Now, answer my question. Who are you, people?" He turns his attention back to them.
" I didn't know that murderers can get so majestic and imposing." The red hair one says.
" Wha... what are you talking about?"
" They are Devils. Filthy Devils." Raynare says in disgust.
" Devils..." He repeats as a faint glimpse of a memory passes trough his head.
Suddenly the screams of a young girl are heard. It comes from one of her subordinates, the short, white hair one, that looked like a cat. She falls on the ground, holding her nose between her hands, as if in extreme pain.
" Koneko! What happened?!" The red hair runs to her aid, followed by everyone else. " Are you in pain?! Tell me!"
" I... I tried to smell him. To see what race he was from." The girl named Koneko says, the pain gradually getting weaker.
" And what happened? What is he?"
" He in not a fallen, neither an angel, nor a devil. He comes from no mythology. His scent carries the wind of no known land..."
" Then... what is he?"
" He is cold itself. Nothing more, nothing less. An entity that would make winter shiver in his presence. Something that shouldn't be here. A monster, in every aspect of the word." She says, pushing the pain aside.
The group of Devils turns towards the man, horror drawn across their faces. The leader is the first to speak, in answer to his question.
" In order to ask someone, you must first answer them yourself. So, I will repeat myself. Who are you?..."
The man looks at himself, at the empty cell that they called a person. A body with no memories, is like a man with no name, with no soul.
" I would love to know myself." He tells her.
" You... you don't know who you are?"
" No, not who, nor what I am."
Her gaze then goes to Raynare, that was struggling to stand on her own two feet. She looks at her in disgust, almost rage. Her words confirming that feeling.
" Then why do you stand by their side?" Her question carries no wonder, only anger.
" Because fate brought me to them. They took me in, me a stranger. To both them and myself. I owe her at least that."
" If that is what you say, then let me ask you this. When a sinner does a good deed, do his sins disappear? When the murder of an entire family, saves a kitten in the streets, do you consider him a good man?" She asks him. She knows that if they were to fight, she would stand no chance. So instead, she wants to make him realise the truth , without being affected by the Fallen's lies.
" Life is not so simple little girl. A man is a sinner, only in the eyes of his victims. The murderer is the bad guy from the family's perspective, while at the same time he is the hero in the eyes of the kitten." His answer surprises her, but at the same time angers her as well.
" The eyes of an animal, are not the same as the eyes of a human. The differences in life, are too great to be considered the same."
" Easy for someone who belongs on one of the sides to say. But I am sure you didn't tell me that, to hear my view on the subject, did you?"
" Of course not. The woman who you are trying to protect, is nothing but a murderer. You are a logical person. I am sure you can see that protecting someone like that, is nothing but monstrous."
He looks at Raynare, wanting to figure out for himself. In her eyes he sees no malice, only fear. If a murderer has these eyes, then what eyes does a victim have? However, the red hair girl doesn't stop there. She steps aside, allowing the body of a young girl, with long golden hair to be seen, ling on a nearby bench.
" This girl right here, is the victim of that woman. An innocent girl that knew no evil. She helped everyone, without any exceptions. A kind hearted girl, with no one by her side, that picked no sides. That woman took advantage of that. She tricked, manipulated and coldly murdered her. Tell me, how can you stand for a person such as her?"
He doesn't think the words that leave his mouth. They come by themselves, naturally, as if he had had the same conversation before, in another time.
" Because in a coin flip, when someone picks heads, the other has to pick tails. There is no other option. The same implies here. Actions are not made without intentions. So tell me, have you seen both sides of that coin?"
" I do not need to. As I don't have to open a rotten corpse to know if it is dead, I do not need to know her intentions to judge her actions."
" Fine, so let me change the question. Who gave you the role of judge and punisher? Who was that decided you were the just and she was the sinner?"
" I can't believe you are trying to defend her!" A young man with a strange looking gauntlet yells at him. " She killed Asia! And she had the nerves to brag about it too! I thought I could move on. I thought I could forget about her, and how she tricked me. Forget about the pain she caused me. But hurting Asia, while I am sitting next to her, unable to help... it is too much." The boy says, barely preventing his tears from running down his cheeks.
" This is enough evidence I believe." The woman takes the lead once again. " I am a leader, a king. I share the emotions of my peerage. I feel their love, their hate, their anger. And it is my duty to make sure that they take revenge. I was not given the role of executioner, but I can become one, to serve the people I hold dear."
" So... you want revenge, don't you?" He asks the boy.
" I do." He says in a completely apathetic tone.
" And what will you accomplish with that? What will you gain, after you have taken revenge?"
" I will have honored Asia's memory. I will have avenged her death, by killing her killer."
" No, you will have become the same as her killer. Do you honestly believe that this is what she would have truly wanted?" He asks him.
The boy can not answer back. He is right in every aspect. Who was he taking revenge for? Asia, or him?
" She took your friend away from you, you took hers. Isn't that enough? Isn't that what people call an eye for an eye? What more do you want?"
Again silence.
" I will ask you once again. Do you want to take revenge?"
" N... no. I don't. No longer." He says as he sinks into sadness. It was all pointless, he tells himself.
" Stop playing with his feelings. I won't allow you to mould him as you see fit." The girl comes by his side.
" I am not moulding him into anything. I am just letting him know about how things work. Emotions are a very powerful force, that drive us into situations, we wouldn't otherwise choose. They make us make decisions and take actions, that are completely irrational. And most of the time, we regret it all afterwards. So, tell me "executioner", who is manipulating who in this scenario?"
" I am no executioner, but a king. That has to take up whatever role, to tend to her family. I am no manipulator, and I am not going to insist against something that he has already decided. However, my position still demands me to take action. This is my territory, and its citizens are my people. She, who not only transpassed it, but dared to hurt them as well, must be judged. I find her guilty, and bestow upon her the death penalty." She says, her eyes unemotional, her face expressionless.
He prepares himself for the attack that was about to come. But instead of an assault, comes a suggestion.
" However, I am willing to negotiate her fate. If you come with me and become part of my peerage, then I will spare her. Refuse and she will die. Try to protect her, and then you will cause the wrath of an entire race. The choice is yours."
" There is not much of a choice here. It is true that I want her to live, but at the same time I do not want to start something far greater."
" Then there is only one right choice..." She says. Positive about his answer.
The fog begins to fade away, and the grey colours of the church can once again be seen. The weather warms up a bit, only slightly, enough to not shiver. He extends his hand to close the deal.
" I have but two conditions."
" I am listening."
" First, I bow to no master. I refuse to call you anything but your actual name. I won't recognise you as superior to me."
" I understand, and I have no problem with that. The relationship I and my servants share is the one between two friends, two brothers. One older, one younger. My name is Rias Gremory, happy to make your acquaintance, my dear servant. And what about the second condition?"
" She is coming with me." He says, pointing at Raynare, catching everyone by surprise.
" Why would you want that? I told you I was going to allow her to live."
" You, only you. But who can assure me that everyone else will as well? Who can promise me, that after I leave, someone won't come to finish what you started? For that, I want to take her with me."
Rias looks towards the young boy named Issei. She knows his pain, and what that woman has caused him. It is illogical to ask something like this from him, but does she have another choice? As she was about to ask for his permission, a positive nod of his head answers all of her questions.
" It is settled then. We have an agreement." She tells him, as she takes his hand.
" My name... is Detra. I finally remembered it." He says, smiling at the new path that had opened in front of him. Hoping to find more pieces of the lost puzzle, that were his memories, as he went along.
And thus the first chapter comes to an end. If you like the way I write, or if you are interested in learning more about the character, please follow my actual work on s/3293789/1/War-Between-Two-Worlds-Volume-1-Adventures-in-another-world
Also, this fanfic won't be updated regularly, since it exists only to satisfy my urge as a writer.
This is not a sellout, but a humble advertisement.