I don't own em I'm just borrowin em!

Oh yes, don't be alarmed. The whole storey isn't written in 2nd person... just this chapter.

Candles lined the walls. Shadows flickered and danced as they switched places with each other in the dusty rooms. Aged brick was lined with tattered flags that waved eerily in the heat made by the candles as if in some unfelt breeze.

As you moved through the courtyard, your eyes almost missed the bloodstains on the floor, the shards of a broken sword, the empty casings. Your footsteps, as light and as slow as they were, woke something. Something hidden. Something trapped in the prison of the garden. Something lost.

Dinted, lonely, yet gleaming, a pair of gauntlets lay on the platform. Each one bearing scars, memories of battles won, and this battle...lost.

At the stirring of debris, the gauntlets flared. A warning. That of a Hermit's warnings to children that come too close. Irritated, yet sad.

Who are you?

You took in the surroundings. Nobody was present there besides you...and the gauntlets. remaining silent, you stepped closer to the lonely pair. They were fire-rimmed, silver, not rusted.

Just covered in blood.

What are you?

You have sometimes wondered that yourself. Different. Not belonging. Like the magnificent metallic gloves that were surrounded by so much, so faded.

Cautious, senses awake for ambush, you moved closer. The twin silver gleams sparked in irritation at being woken.

Let me live eternity in peace!

Suspicious, yet not affected by the gauntlet's ramblings, you touched a silver glove, drawing back your hand immediately.

They were warm! You picked one up in a hand, yet to decide whether the gauntlets were dangerous or simply bluffing their irritation. Suddenly the sword on your back spat sparks of blue lightning across the floor.

A gasp.

Alastor? Who are you?

Ever silent, you ran a check over the gloves with your power, picking up the twin. They shivered in your hands...giggling?

My turn, mysterious stranger.

Humor in the voice. A female? The gauntlets were female?

Without warning, a wave of fire leapt from the gauntlets, pressing at your veins. Searching. Examining. Analysing. Through your arms, to your chest, slowly pulsing with every heartbeat.

Interesting...but...

The fire dug itself deeper and you found yourself on the floor. Ripping off the gauntlets, you hoped to leave the fiery invader in its silver prison, but it had already leaked into your own essence.

What was it doing?

"A halfblood?" A voice, a woman's voice, drifted through your thoughts. "How...unusual."

Get out.

Two words said to the invading spirit and it instantly started seeping away.

"Well, there was no need to be rude..."

You gave one last steely look at the gauntlets and turned your back, intending to leave them in the derelict courtyard.

WAIT!!

The spirit screamed. You froze, a shrill note of warning in her "voice". The door exploded inwards. Revealing a sneering, hard-shelled Blade; a Demon. Green skin, thick and almost impenetrable served it as its armor. The build of Demons varied from one to the next, the Demon in question was more slight than you, reptilian in its manifestation. The only thing that made you hesitate was the enormously large sword on its back, ready to draw in the midst of a battle.

How did she know?...and why did she warn you?

There was a high keening sound. The Demon released a cry and clapped its hands over it's ears, falling to its knees. You winced; the note was of an unusual pitch, Atonal and deafening. Not being a full Demon, the note did you no damage other than making your ears ring. The Demon on the ground was screaming and writhing, blood leaking out of his ears. You took the opportunity to draw your own sword. For a split second, you hesitated and the sword paused over the Demon's chest. The moment passed and you plunged the sword between the breastplates of the writhing Demon.

Well...that adds more red to the brickwork." The spirit sounded unsurprised by your actions. You sheathed your sword and continued to the door, trying to ignore the fact that the irritating gauntlets had just saved your life. If you had walked out of the courtyard at that moment, the explosion of the door would have surprised you...giving the Demon the upper hand.

Wait! Please!

You stopped and turn. Doubtful that another Demon would attack. There was a sigh.

I apologise for invading your... privacy. It's just that... I've been abandoned for so long, I was hoping that you'd come to kill that sonofabitch Mundus.

You stepped closer, curious. What would a pair of gauntlets have against a Demon of the underworld?

Then I found that you're a Sparda... the spirit sounded almost sheepish, Though I can't figure out which one.

She knew who you are. She saved your life. She... could be useful later, especially if Mundus has sensitive ears, but is that all she can do? The gauntlets flared.

Please, take me with you. I couldn't stand another thousand years here...not when I know you have the power to defeat Mundus! I can help! I have the power of fire! She started to sound more desperate, like a starving child begging for food.

You sighed. You never liked to travel with any companions... but what harm could a pair of gloves do? You picked up the gauntlets and wiped the flaked blood off the joints.

You...you're taking me?

"Yes."

One word. You never liked to talk much, preferring to let your actions speak for you. You put the gauntlets on, auras of fire flashed across the surface of the silver.

My name is Ifrit.

"Dante."

No gasp of awe, fear or hate. Simply,

How can I thank you?

You couldn't resist a small smile,

"Just keep your flames to yourself. Okay?"

Deal.

Though somehow...you never really did believe her.