Chapter Two

As the Head Lady of the Gremory House, Venelana Gremory possessed a regal, aristocratic demeanor learned by hundreds of years of experience. In her blood was the Power of Destruction conferred by House Bael, another of the Seven-Two Pillars of the Underworld. It was her reputation of being stern but fair that earned her a reputation among her peers as one of the most reliable members of the Pillars.

At the same time, Venelana Gremory was a mother, and it was that side of her that was present when Rias told her what had happened.

Seated in cushioned chairs in a red and black lounge, Venelana sipped tea daintily from a porcelain cup. She looked remarkably like Rias, but older, more mature, with brown hair instead of red. Her eyes were soft as they observed the conflicted young man seated in the couch across from her. "In our world, three major factions exist: Heaven, The Fallen, and Hell," Venelana explained. "Long ago, they fought in a war, dubbed 'The Great War'. Though that time has long past, remnants of old ideologies still linger among the ranks of the Three. In many ways, the Great Wars is still being fought between the Three to this very day."

Jon sighed into his cup of hot chocolate. "And now Sam hates me."

"From what you've described, it sounded like she was more afraid. The belief that humans reborn as devils are... corrupted, or are 'replaced' by a falsified version is strictly fictional. It is a common argument used by Heaven's Churches to discredit devil-based resurrection."

Jon sighed again. "I didn't know she was a... an agent of the Church. She never told me."

"Most of the human world is kept ignorant of ours. It is only natural that you didn't know of your beloved's second life, just as you didn't know of us devils."

But in retrospect, there were signs that Sam lived a life beyond his. Not only in the way she had her private life, but also in the way she was as a person. In his memories, Jon saw her steadfast resolution, her conviction in everything she did. Her faith was always something she made clear to him about.

Then there was her father, that mammoth of a man with a sword in his closet.

And yet, recognizing these signs he once thought were simply odd quirks only left a growing bitterness in his mouth.

"You're right, ma'am. Unfortunately, it feels like that secrecy tarnished our relationship."

"It would only if you believe your relationship wasn't genuine."

"It was. At least, I thought it was."

Venelana was no doubt Rias's mother. When the corners of her lips curled into a pitiful smile, her resemblance to her daughter grew. "Like her, you are surely overwhelmed with what has happened. It has been a long day for you, I imagine. I suggest you get some rest. Stay here for tonight. You have time to consider your situation with your girlfriend."

"Thank you, ma'am. Still, I don't think things will get better with her."

Venelana hesitated. "Truthfully, I don't believe it will, either. Animosity between the Three lingers outside of our reach. Though diplomatic efforts have brought us peace, it is impossible to completely erase countless years of bloodshed in so little time. The hatred is almost ingrained in all of us, for at one point it helped us survive. Those who are born into our world find it difficult to overcome this belief."

Jon shut his eyes. "I understand. Thank you again, ma'am."

Venelana smiled warmly. "Please. Venelana is fine. 'Ma'am' makes me sound old."

"Lady Gremory, then."

"Hmm." Venelana spoke to her daughter. "Rias, dear, why don't you show Jon to a guest room? And remember to talk about the responsibilities of being a Devil when Jon is well again. Akeno, you too. Don't stay up late."

"Yes, mother."

"As you wish, Lady Gremory."

Venelana smiled warmly as Jon, Rias, and Akeno left the lounge. Wearing a set of red and black pajamas provided by the staff, Jon followed his King to the guest room.

"Your mother seems nice," Jon commented idly.

Rias smiled. "Mother is wonderful! I love her very much."

"You're a good kid."

She blushed a little at the praise.

Silence came, reminding each of them that they were strangers to one another. Rias shot a pleading look to Akeno, who put on a polite smile.

"The Gremory Household offers all types of support for their members," Akeno began. Her words disenchanted Jon of her age; what kind of girl in middle school could speak so fluidly? "Whether it be financial, legal, therapeutic, or any other support, we can arrange assistance for it. Of course, in return, we hope that you will offer your own cooperation to us should the need arise."

"Any chance someone can help me get my girlfriend back?"

Akeno faltered. "N-no..."

"Ah. Well. I'll keep the offer in mind."

Akeno sent a look back to her King that simply read, I tried.

Rias cleared her throat. "How are you feeling about...?"

Jon was quiet. "I don't know," he eventually answered. "Frankly, I don't want to think about it. It's a... a real mess."

The air was heavy. Evidently, neither Rias nor Akeno had the experience in regards to romance.

Suddenly, Rias straightened, her eyes alit with an idea. "I know! How about we teach you how to use your magic?" To get your mind off things.

Jon considered a moment. "That... sounds interesting. Sure."

"Wonderful!"

When they reached the guest room, Jon flopped onto the neat bed unceremoniously while both Rias and Akeno pulled up chairs to the bedside.

"Now, before we begin, we need you to understand how magic works. Akeno?"

"Magic is the power to literally change the world around us," Akeno began. She raised her hand. Jon's brows rose when thin streamers of lightning danced between Akeno's fingertips. "Whether it is something simple, like cleaning a window, to something more complex, like altering the laws of the universe, magic is capable of any feat." When the lightning dissipated, Jon's eyes found Akeno's again. "Of course, there is one rule you must remember when performing magic: there is always a price to pay."

Jon nodded, absorbing the information like a sponge.

"In most cases, you may pay using your own strength: your energy. When that is not feasible, you can offer other forms of payment."

Jon noticed Akeno hesitate on elaborating. He decided not to press the issue when Rias began speaking.

"The ability to perform magic is inherent in all beings. You simply need the energy and the knowledge to perform that magic." When Rias raised her hand, a fireball of dark fire, something that screamed ominous to his instincts, appeared hovering over her palm. "As a human, you were restricted from performing magic due to your limited energy capacity. As a reincarnated devil, you can access a greater supply of energy. Of course, as you grow older and collect more power, your energies will grow as well.

"Why don't we start with something simple?" The fireball of wrongness disappeared without a trace. In its place, a floating ball of red light appeared.

"At its most basic forms, a spell can be understood by its purpose, its cost, and its form," Akeno said, raising her own ball of light. "Understand those, and you can perform a spell like this."

"Okay. Do I just, umm, imagine and it happens?"

"You need to believe it will happen."

He blinked. "Okay. Believe." He showed his hand, palm facing the ceiling. He wanted a ball of light. He urged it to appear, willed it. Nothing. He spoke to himself out loud, hoping his two young mentors would correct his thought process should it need correcting. "Purpose, cost, and form. The purpose is to illuminate the room. It costs... little, I hope. And I want this to appear as a ball of light floating in my hand."

Nothing. He imagined a ball once more, of it forming by a flow of light.

Nothing. Again.

Nothing. Once more.

Nothing.

Jon sighed in defeat. "I don't seem to be having any luck. Pointers?"

Akeno spoke. "You are a newborn devil. Your supplies are greater than that of a human's, but not by much. It may be difficult for you to access that power until you are older."

"I see."

"Not all reincarnated devils can perform magic so soon after their change," Rias said.

"I have a few questions to ask." Jon frowned. "No. Actually, I have more than a few. A lot, really. But for now, what's the exchange rate between the energy you use to cast a spell and the output of the spell?"

Again, Rias and Akeno showed their inexperience when they blinked owlishly at him.

"Umm, maybe that's too... specialized. Is there any way for me to know how much energy I have?"

"There is," Akeno answered immediately. "There are certain meditations you may perform that allow you to understand yourself. That includes your energy capacity."

"Huh. Sounds useful. Any chance I can learn that?"

Eager to make something positive from this evening, Rias agreed. "It is simple: even an infant can do it. First, close your eyes and imagine that there is a pool of power within your body.

"Within the body of a devil is a partition of energy, called demonic energy, which acts as our life force and our source of power. This power makes us devils, just as angelic power makes angels, and spiritual energy makes humans."

Jon did as he was instructed. He sat on the bed, shut his eyes, and furrowed his brows in concentration. It wasn't working at first, but soon Rias's gentle voice guided him through his thoughts until he sensed a pool of heat within his gut that flowed through his limbs. He controlled his breathing, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth at the pace of his heart. A picture of himself burned its way into his mind, revealing a silhouette of himself with red flowing throughout his body like blood.

"Do you feel it?" Rias asked. Her voice was somehow distant.

"Yes," he said. "I feel it." As soon he spoke, that picture of himself, the understanding of his internal energies, vanished. He opened his eyes. "Correction: I felt it."

"Meditation requires a high-degree of concentration to maintain," Akeno said. She reached out with a towel she procured when he wasn't paying attention and dabbed his forehead of sweat. He nearly flinched from the sudden intimacy. "As a newborn devil, this is a difficult but helpful way for you understand your new self. You are no longer who you were. Neither is the world."

She offered him the towel, and he accepted it. "Thank you. I'll practice."

To his surprise, Rias rose from her seat and embraced him. He froze, unsure of what to do. "It won't be easy, Jon, but we will help. Simply ask."

"Sure."

Rias pulled away. "We must leave, or mother will be upset. Rest well, Jon."

"'night. You too, Akeno."

The dark-haired girl bowed a little. "You as well, Jon."

When the door shut and the light went off, Jon laid in bed feeling a little brighter than before. The exhaustion from the day still lingered in his body, making him drowsy, but he could sleep soundly if he did not think about Riley.

Then he did.

"Damn it," he sighed. He wasn't going to sleep, now.

He shut his eyes once more and focused on his breathing. The image returned to him again, faded, and returned. He practiced until he fell asleep.


When he returned to campus the day after, there was a lean, Hispanic man in his early twenties with copper skin and a stud in his left ear at the cafeteria table he often sat at. The man offered a curt nod as Jon approached, which he returned.

"You look like shit," Carlos said as Jon took a seat.

"Thanks."

Jon drank deeply from his cup until the coffee was gone. Rias had told him that devils were weaker in the morning. 'Weaker' had been an understatement. He had never been a morning person, but now he felt as if he were swimming in concrete. It didn't help that the atmosphere of the campus hung like a cloak of fear and oppression on his shoulders. The shooting was fresh on everyone's memories, and reflected in the lack of students on campus.

Carlos looked about as he bit into a bagel with cream cheese. "Where's the girl, man?"

Jon winced. "We're―" bitter enemies, "―taking some time apart."

"Whadyu do?"

I died and got resurrected as a devil. My bad. "Nothing." Carlos gave him an impatient look, the tilting of the brows, and Jon sighed before making something up. "The shooting."

Carlos glanced at a police car as it passed by slowly. "What 'bout it?"

"Well, she thought I was hurt when I didn't call her after she texted me a hundred times. Hell, I had no idea there was a shooter."

Carlos connected the dots. "Idiota. Should've told her you weren't there."

"I told her I was fine. She screamed something about me being different. Being a demon, unholy. All that jazz. I swear, she was pissed enough to shoot me." Then she shot me. "We decided to take time apart. To cool off and stuff."

Carlos ate his bagel. Jon unwrapped his own sandwich and ate.

"Kinda overreacting," Carlos finally said. "What she mean, demon?"

Jon eyed the crucifix dangling around the Hispanic's neck. "You're the Christian here. If you don't know, I definitely won't."

His friend was quiet. "You need a drink?"

"It's morning."

"You look like you could use one. Or two."

I think I do.

"No. I've got some stuff I need to do now." Jon stood. "I've gotta ask you a favor. If Sam comes around asking for me, can you tell her you haven't seen me today? Or, y'know, distract her."

"That bad, huh? Aight, man. I gotchu."

"Thanks. I need to go." They traded grips. "I'll see ya later. Take care."

"See ya."

As Jon left, he kept an eye on the officers visibly patrolling the campus in addition to the campus security. Squad cars passed often, and yellow tape cut off whole streets. Jon's eyes flickered to white outlines on the sidewalk, where dried blood colored the concrete. Under the weight of the sun, Jon could barely muster any sympathy.

Idly, he reached for his phone in his pocket. His fingers hovered over Sam's number before he caught himself. Clenching his teeth, he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

I should've gotten that drink.

He headed to the anthropology building several blocks from the cafeteria. There was no yellow tape. Silently, he entered the building and went to the room where he was shot.

The door to the lab was ajar. Inside, there was no sign of his near-death.

It was as if nothing happened. A neat pile of papers sat atop one of the lab's tables. Stools were at their usual places beside the large tables. The floor was free of blood. No doubt Rias had cleaned up after him; she was surprisingly competent for a girl her age. Jon circled the lab, feeling strangely wistful. If Jon didn't know better, he would have thought it was just another day, with him waiting on his professors so he could finish his mandatory hours on the field.

But it wasn't just another day. He was only pretending it was.

Sighing, he left his bag on a chair and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves. He reached for the crate where the relics he had worked on with his professors were.

At the top of the pile of junk his most eccentric professor liked to collect was the same scroll he had been examining the day of the shooting. The scroll was like new despite having been dated as to two thousand-years old: the cover was a cylinder of polished wood dyed. Carved in it was engravings of a serpentine creature that wound itself around the entire cover, as well as a horned figure with large eyes and teeth. Jon pulled open the scroll again, considering a way to get a rubbing of the parchment when he froze.

The scroll that had been blank the last time he had seen it read:

To my descendants.

Jon swallowed. He unraveled the scroll a little more, his pulse racing from a growing anticipation of his discovery.

There was more. The scroll had words. English words.

"Mother of God," Jon muttered. A sharp pain, like a migraine turned into a bullet, stabbed into his brain. He flinched, the world spun. His hand knocked the papers onto the floor.

As he opened his eyes, a moment of déjà vu overwhelmed him. He remembered a page, a flyer with a pentagram, and unfamiliar words. That paper was nowhere to be found. Jon stared at the blood on his hands that disappeared when blinked. He eyes darted about the room frantically before settling on the scroll he had dropped on the floor.

The scroll continued:

To my descendants.

The sons of my sons will do as they are taught and guide the words of my experience down our bloodline. Should these words reach you, it means our time is long past.

Saitou clan, Know that I am your ancestor, Saitou Hajime.

In my time, the demons of the land have been many. Some days, their miasma clouded the sky as if heralding a storm to fall upon our land. Rivers would run red these days without the hand of the Saitou clan and friends. The crops would wither, blacken, and burn in the hands of―

"What the fuck am I reading?" Jon whispered. "Some damn Japanese history drama?"

Then he heard footsteps in the hall outside the lab. His heart stopped when he heard Carlos whispering.

"You sure, girl? It's not a cool thing to do, you know, killing him," he said.

A voice he knew answered more quietly, "He's not Jon. Not anymore. I can't let it do what it wants. This has to be done. Now shut up."

Motherfucker.

He remembered the gun. He remembered the crucifix on Carlos's neck. How many people did he know wanted to kill him? How many were already 'in the know'?

Shoving the scroll into his bag, Jon shoved the crate of relics back on the shelf it belong to, threw his gloves into the disposal bin, grabbed his belongings, and headed for the door. When he sensed a presence nearing the lab, he stopped. If Carlos was in the know, then there was a chance he'd kill Jon as well. Sam was with him, after all. Biting his lip at the betrayal he felt, Jon went for the row of windows on the far wall.

Easing one of the larger windows open, he slipped out of the building and shut it quietly behind him.

Ducking out of sight, he stalked his way around a corner in case they decided to look out the window, and continued walking.

Whenever an officer passed him, a part of Jon jumped in fear of being apprehended. Knowing Carlos was helping Sam find him stirred fear and paranoia; the police could be in it as well. As he passed squad cars and officers, Jon kept an eye out for trouble.

And found it.

He felt someone's gaze on him as he passed the library on the way to the campus's exit. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He kept on walking as he checked it. It was a text from Carlos.

[09:04:11 am] where u at man

"Fucking dipshit backstabber," Jon growled. He shut off his phone and walked faster, still feeling someone's gaze on him. "God―" a nail plunged into his brain once again, "―damn it!" Fueled by white-hot fury, Jon whirled, searching for the eyes that never left him. As if drawn to the source of the gaze, Jon's eyes found a young woman sitting cross-legged in the shade of a tree in one of the wider areas of the courtyard.

Her skin was a light brown, and her braids a dark black. She watched him warily from the distance. He took in her garb: a regular pair of jeans and a brown vest.

Jon didn't stay long. He memorized her look and left. His eyes met hers briefly, and hers narrowed slightly. She looks normal. But so does Carlos and Sam. South American or Native American. Shit, if devils and devil hunters are real, then what about Native American shaman magic?

He remembered Akeno's words: You are no longer who you were. Neither is the world.

When the campus was four blocks away, Jon searched his wallet. He considered boarding a bus home, or hailing a taxi, but reconsidered. Sam was looking for him. Naturally, she would go for places he would normally go. His home was no longer safe. He wracked his thoughts for a place to lay low. The Gremory Estate.

When he fished the paper that would transport him there from his back pocket, he spotted that young woman from earlier standing in the corner of the street.

The feathers in her hair fluttered.

Definitely magic.

"Devil," she called. "I wish to speak with you."

Jon licked his lips nervously. "Go ahead."

She nodded, adjusting the schoolbag over her shoulder. "Tell your master that a stray wanders this neighborhood. The wind says it seeks your blood, for you lived. You must stay away from this location if you wish to keep your luck."

Of course, they've got to be vague, too. "In English?"

She muttered something to herself. Exasperated, she answered, "The gunman from two days ago was possessed. He wants to kill you. Stay away."

"Oh. Thanks for the warning."

"You are welcome. Now leave. I cannot mask you forever."

Jon bit his inner cheek, wincing, before spitting the blood on the paper. A familiar red circle engulfed his world in light. The Native American girl watched him disappear.


"A stray, you say?" Rias muttered.

Jon nodded. "She said the gunman that shot me was possessed. That he wanted me dead. What is a stray? What is she talking about?"

"In this case," Akeno said, tapping the eraser of her pencil on her lip. "A stray is a devil that has defied its master, and, as a result, lost control of its nature. They tend to seek more power to secure its future. How they go about it depends."

"The most common way is for the stray to kill and eat other beings," Rias said.

"Well, the shooter didn't look quite cannibalistic when I saw him."

Rias scribbled something in her notebook. The coffee table on the carpet in her room was enormous, with enough space for her to put several large books, Akeno's books, and three lunch trays on it. The rest of her room was as grand, with a large four-poster bed covered in red, white, and pink. "What did this girl look like?"

"Native American, I think. She had a feature in her hair."

"Any tattoos?"

"On her left arm. I don't know what of." Rias flipped through one of the books on her table. After a while, she showed a page to him. "A shapeshifter?"

"It's an ancient practice among Native Americans," Akeno said offhandedly.

Jon skimmed the page, his brows rising and falling. "Okay. Umm. Wow, I have no idea what to say. I guess I should stay away from campus, then? I mean, Sam wants my head, this stray wants my head, and this chick that can turn into a two-ton bear might as well."

Rias smiled. "Native Americans lean towards a more subjective view of the world compared to those of the Holy faction. There are tribal differences, but many of them are neutral towards Devils. In fact, following colonization, many tribes established positive relations with the other supernatural communities of the world. So long as you are not a threat to them or the world, of course." She pondered. "If she is telling the truth, then it is better if you remain here, Jon. The shapeshifter can take care of the stray if another devil does not. A newborn devil like yourself is a tantalizing prey for a stray. Perhaps you can accompany us to Japan."

"Japan? What are you doing there?"

"I'm going to school there," she said, playing with a lock of her red hair. "It's fun. It's different from school here in the Underworld."

It took a moment for Jon to reconcile the idea of a devil taking classes in middle school. But then he remembered his own situation, and decided, Screw it. "I don't mind going," he said. "I don't know any Japanese, though."

Akeno giggled. "That's alright. I do. And as a Devil, you have an ability called 'Language.' It allows you to understand other languages as the language you know best."

"That's… hang on. Does that apply to reading as well?"

Rias answered. "No, not normally. In some occasions, a Devil may obtain an improved version of the ability that allows them to understand foreign texts. That ability is uncommon, as it requires one to be rather versed in certain kinds of academia."

He recalled the scroll in his bag. "Then I might take you up on that offer."

"Wonderful!" Rias rose from her seat and ran for the door. "I'll inform Grayfia. Perhaps we can arrange an accommodating role for you―"

The door shut behind her.

Akeno laughed softly. "She didn't want to do her homework, you see…"

"Hmm. I understand. I didn't like homework when I was her age, too." Jon flipped to the next page of the book Rias had shown him earlier. "Is this information… accurate?"

"Yes, it is."

"Hmm."

By the time Rias returned, she found Jon deep in one of her books. Akeno smiled slyly at her King. "Rias, I'm almost finished~"

Horrified and betrayed, Rias attacked her schoolwork.


a/n: I told someone on Spacebattles that it wouldn't take me till October to update this... and I was right :D