Given To Destroyers

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.

Warnings in general: Bad language, violence, lots of blood, and yaoi.

Warnings for this chapter: murder and torture.

This is the sequel to "Blessed And Cursed" and you have to read it to understand the story line.

Prologue – In the Absence of Light

About 2000 years ago, shortly after Sparda's rebellion in hell

Fire. Fire everywhere. Flames that danced sensually, sizzled quietly, a mysterious ancient melody. Red and orange, bright colors that were entwined like two dancers in an elegant waltz, harmonizing together in a glorious symphony. Heat radiated off the fire it in small waves, wafting through the air. Silent snaps whenever a tree branch would crack could be heard, sparks were flying around. One could call it beautiful but the petite woman that lay in the middle of the flames didn't. Not anymore.

She knew there was no escape for her, she was trapped and she was going to die. It was inevitable. Poison ran through her veins, making it impossible for her to move, to even scream. But her mind registered every burn that felt like being stabbed by thousand blades, registered the cracking and breaking of her bones, registered the pungent smell her scorching skin and feathers gave off. Gold turning to black, brilliance fading away. Death. Death lingered everywhere.

A pair of eyes watched her from further away. One eye gleamed in a bright green, the other red, encased by cold steel.

The woods around her continued to burn, the screams of the other victims had long since faded. He – her tormentor – had brought her here for a reason, made others suffer because of her and now had thrown her into the very center of destruction to watch her die.

Quondam vixit ava pulchra
Ad eius aspectu astra evanuerunt.
Ea sol erat, alii luna, atro alboque
Damnati sunt alter alteri destruere.
Aurum est color nostri horas,
Sed nos erimus favillis,
Quia memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna.
Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna...

Once, there lived a beautiful bird,
So beautiful that the stars looked pale in comparison.
She was the sun, the other was the moon
White contrasting against black,
Damned to destroy each other.
Gold is the color of our final hours,
And all of us will fall to ashes,
Because the sun and the moon will never touch.
Always remember that the sun and the moon will never touch...

He watched her die from a safe distance, his thumb brushing over the blade of his sword. Blood was smeared on the shining surface. He brushed it away with his thumb, looking at the red liquid indifferently. His facial features were blank while he saw her suffer, he felt nothing when he heard her coven scream and fall one by one. Blissful silence.

It was ironic, he thought. She was a firebird, yet she was dying in flames now. Of course, he was to blame for that. He had abducted and poisoned her. A sacrifice. She needed to be sacrificed.

You are a destroyer, Verroth, came the accusation. He stared at the body, merely raising a brow in disinterest. By now, her once golden feathers had completely faded to black.

"I thought you knew that along. Me and your lover are the same, Yulija. You should have known better." He took some steps back, admiring the fire, the chaos he unleashed. "She won't help you. Not this time."

Pheolae never laid a hand on anyone. Never. You made her a monster.

"I did what I was created for."

You shouldn't exist.

"Pheolae shouldn't exist as well then", he said cold-heartedly, "We were made to conquer. A pair that leads to victory. She can't live without me and I can't live without her. And you were in the way of our... task." His face was an emotionless mask. He didn't bother with emotions, always made sure he was in control of himself. And she needed to die because she was a nuisance. Because she was weak, in the way. And soon, she would be gone.

It doesn't work this way. It's not that easy and you will regret what you did to me.

"Oh, Yulichka – I won't."

Verroth watched as Yulija dissolved into golden smoke, ascending over the dancing flames into the heavy clouds that hung above the scenery.

But in the end, he did regret his decision. Verroth would only know the consequences of his killings, his plans, about two thousand years later when Dante Sparda took his life.

At the moment though, he took off to leave the scene, returning to the castle of his father to get his sister, not knowing that she already left without him...

–

Inevitable.

The chains that held her onto the stone wall of the dungeon shackled as she violently tore at them, trying to break her restrictions. The young woman's face was contorted in agony, her body covered in bruises and cuts, her wrists were rubbed raw. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice screamed at her to keep on fighting, to do everything in her power to break free.

You can't help her.

The pain escalated with every movement she made, made her feel as if she was breathing fire. There was a static noise in her head, dark spots that danced in front of her eyes.

Creatrice – isn't that a beautiful honorific our father gave you?

And now her creations had destroyed her lover's coven.

Sacrifices must be made, my dear sister... But you will never understand the true meaning of that, Pheolae.

A faint orange glow filled the laboratory where she was trapped. A bad sign – it meant that it was already too late for her to –

All of a sudden she stopped struggling. The voice inside her head was gone. She slumped back against the wall, breathing hard. Too late. It was over.

There was a strange emptiness inside, a feeling as if something just vanished from deep within her. It could only have one meaning – her mate was dead, their bond was broken.

A scream tore the ghastly silence, inhumane and animalistic. Ram-like horns protruded from her forehead, her eyes blazed bright green and large, leathery wings tore the chains. Her incisors increased in size, her hands became claws.

She fell to the floor, still screaming, bloody tears running down her cheeks. Sadness crashed down onto her, threatening to suffocate her. She clawed at her own skin, watched as her blood gushed out of the wounds.

Inevitable, her brother had said before he imprisoned her. You can't help her.

Verroth – her brother who had been fixated on gaining power. Her brother who couldn't stand to see her happy. Her brother who cut his own heart off after having been rejected by her mate. And now, he has succeeded in killing her.

Pheolae got up and wiped her tears away.

Set up to conquer and reign, divided into two beings, destined to carry a legacy. These were the rules. Rules were made to be broken. And the legacy her father wanted them to carry was given to destroyers.

Present time

The night was unusually cold for June – and unusually quiet. No crickets or birds could be heard. A storm seemed to be approaching, loud and blustering winds made the leaves of the nearby trees tremble.

Several years ago, the mansion on top of the hill had been beautiful and pristine with its Roman pillars that supported the upper two stories. A small tower emerged from the roof, giving the house a mysterious touch.

Yes, the mansion had been beautiful once. Now, it was in ruins, had burnt down – the roof was broken, grime was smeared onto the crumbling facade, ivy was wildly twining around loose bricks. The house was decaying one by one, looking abandoned and run-down. The facade once had been a pure white but now, it was weathered, the bricks broken and shabby. The decorated windows were shattered, the wind gushing through the cracks.

Still, there was light coming out of one of the basement windows... There, in a chamber someone was currently occupied with setting up several things for a ritual.

The room was filled with eerie greenish light that was illuminated by the bare stone walls, tinting the seen in an uninviting hue. The floor was dirty and littered with bones, the only light source were the candles that were placed everywhere.

There was an altar in the center of the chamber, made out of stone, on its feet more candles were placed – the flames were green, the source of the scary lighting. Beneath the altar, blood dripped onto the floor. The blood seeped out of the victim's wounds which was bared on top of the cold stone. There were long gashes on its wrists, its neck and its thighs. The light made the pale skin look ghostly and thin like paper.

A song was played by a celesta, the notes resounding weakly through the dimly lit room. It was a beautiful song, the notes flew like a river, one by one, reminding of a lullaby. A voice was singing along to the melody. It was a beautiful and melodious voice, singing the words with passion:

Evanescet lux,
Ardebunt astri,
In favillis mundus iste occidet.
Sol ultimus elevabit,
Inflammabit omnis,
Luna cedidiebit infra eius vim.
Hostes omnes extinguebintur,
Depugnabit aureum saeculum.
Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna
Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna...

It was dark outside, the darkness almost unnatural – black and velvety, no stars, neither the moon were visible. Heavy clouds were hanging in the sky, looking predatory and dangerous.

The voice stopped singing but the celesta continued to play nonetheless. The only sounds in the chamber were the music, the light sizzling sounds of the candles and the dripping noise of the blood that ran down onto the floor.

Tell me, my love, how far can your insanity take you? Tell me why you had to steal this body.

"I have chosen you, my Queen", a voice replied to the unspoken accusation. It was the same voice that had been singing. Still, the celesta continued to play, the music taking a shrill turn to the trebles. The victim was too weak to even raise its head.

"You will call me 'Mistress'", the voice continued. The person came closer and stepped into the green light, revealing a female demon. She had a feminine build – shaped like an hourglass with a small waist – and was a strange crossbreed between a snake and a ram. Her skin was scaled and colored in a rusty red, the scales of her face and stomach had a yellowish tint and seemed softer, resembling human skin. Her legs were covered in a zigzag pattern and she had a long, pointed rattle-like tail. Her eyes were emerald green, the pupils two red slits and between her full blood red lips, a split snake-like tongue darted out occasionally. Her incisors were sharp and long, also reminding of a snake. There were black, ram-like horns on her forehead, her ears pointed like an elf's. Long, dark red and slightly wavy hair spilled down her shoulders, covering her breasts. She wore a long, dark cloak, obscuring her from her victim that continued to lay motionlessly on the altar.

"Your suffering will be over soon", she cooed, patting the victim's head with one head while the other slipped under her cloak, pulling out a dagger.

Liar.

"You are so beautiful, so pure – and that's one of the reasons I've chosen you." Her scaled hand slid down the victim's body, stopping at the stomach. A hiss made its way through the she-devil's throat.

"I've waited a little too long, apparently, but I can take care of that." She stabbed her victim in the gut. It didn't react much, close to dying anyway. She pulled the dagger out again, licking the blood off.

'Creatrice', huh? That's what your father called you, right? You're a thief. A murderer. Maybe your brother had been right all along. You're a destroyer and I should have never let you inside my life.

"Mmh, excellent", the demoness commented, admiring the body of her victim that simply laid there, breaths coming out in short huffs. She ignored the small voice in the back of her head, dizzied by the coppery and rich taste of her victim's blood on her tongue. "Don't worry", she assured it, "You will be reborn. I will improve you. I will make you invincible. You will be mine and you will do as I say. We have a task to complete."

Her hand slid up to the face of the victim and she cupped its cheek. "Forget everything of your previous life, you will be created anew. Forget about modesty, about restrictions. These things don't exist when you're with me."

The tune in the background faded out slowly and stopped eventually. So did the heartbeat of her victim.

"Excellent", the demoness said again and suddenly, her hand was enveloped in a black mist and she began to mumble in an ancient language, the mist slowly creeping over to the victim, getting thicker and mixing with the blood shed beneath the altar. The rivulets flowed upwards, back into the body they had just left, the wounds previously made were closed and the skin of the victim fell down like an empty shell. The victim grew a new skin, different from the pale skin it just shed – it wasn't a chalk-like white like before but a light, golden tan. Feathers erupted from the new skin, covering the whole body of the victim and bright light filled the whole room.

"Numquam tanguntur sol et luna!", the demon ended her spell, raising both of her arms and approached the altar.

The round eyes of the victim opened. They were completely black – no pupil could be made out. The now crimson lips parted and the victim sucked in a breath.

"You're awake!", the she-devil cooed delightfully, petting her newest creation's hair affectionately.

"Yes, my Mistress."

Never love a destroyer. Never love what can destroy you. Never love...

The tune had started to play again in the distance, sounding strangely menacing...