I'm back again with another one of Clairavance's chapters. After this one, I'm going to try and stagger them, so that anyone who decides to read this isn't too overwhelmed (and also so I have adequate time to start preparations for Chapter 13, which as previously mentioned is where my writing will be coming in).
And so the plot thickens, my friends!
Disclaimer: I don't own this work of fiction; it belongs to Clairavance. The characters-barring the OCs mentioned in the Order-are the property of Capcom.
Chapter 4: Level 4: Deadlines
"We should escort him to his new chamber while he's weakened," the black figure in Nero's peripheral vision spoke in a deep, gruff murmur.
"Should we let him meet the other one, too?" Ramy asked. She slipped a new needle into the back of his hand. Nero flinched and closed his heavy eyes.
"Vergil? No, not yet. The boy needs to believe that we mean him no harm before we risk exposing him to anything or anyone else involved."
"I don't see what damage it would cause, Alaric," Ramy said. "It could only help everything move forward. If we can't convince him that our intentions are good then perhaps his fellow kin can."
"Our methods are precise and exactly to Lord Sparda's specifications. He has taken human will and error into account so that we will prosper in our endeavours and not fail due to our own human flaws," Alaric said icily. "The boy is not trustworthy."
"Yes, but Vergil trusts us. He'll be able to explain to Nero-"
"The boy is more likely to plant a seed of doubt in the man's head. We've worked hard and long to earn his trust. We cannot let the boy sabotage all our effort because he feels we're keeping him prisoner for some evil scheme!"
"The boy's name is Nero. He can hear every word you speak, Alaric."
"I thought you drugged him?"
"I gave him a mild sedative that creates the illusion of paralysis," Ramy said scathingly, her grasp firming on Nero's wrist. "I needed him calm and easy to direct, not unconscious."
"Foolishness, Ramy!"
"Do you really want to give him any more reason to think we're the villains by knocking him out? Why don't you bring a pair of cuffs and a whip while you're at it? I'm sure he's expecting no less from us at this stage."
"Don't be ludicrous! He would not have donated his blood willingly, and we need it immediately if we're to help Sparda. You know this!"
"Yes, and now so does Nero," Ramy said with a heavy sigh. "You were saying about human error?"
"Shut your mouth, girl," Alaric growled.
Silence followed before a sweet, soft voice filled it. "I don't wish to attend Vergil any longer, Ramy."
"You don't wish to attend a son of Sparda," Ramy said with a faint, bitter chuckle. "I wonder why."
"His eyes frighten me."
"That's only your primal instincts responding to his nature. After we explained everything to him, he's done nothing but comply to our demands without question. He will not hurt you, Victoria."
"Doesn't it worry you that...maybe he accepted things so readily because he could work circumstances to his advantage?"
"What are you suggesting? That he's only helping us because he has his own agenda?"
"It's not an impossibility."
"Victoria, your fears are unfounded. Even if Vergil is helping us for his own benefit, it is Sparda who devised this task for us. He spent a few years with his sons, and we've been watching over them since they were in the womb. Don't you think our lord would have considered every possible factor that could go wrong?" Ramy said reassuringly.
"Yes, but would he have made precautions for each factor?"
"Why don't you ask Flore? She was the one he asked to counsel time and time again to confirm her premonitions of the future."
"Flore gets pissy when anyone questions the accuracy of her abilities."
Ramy giggled and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Why do you doubt Sparda?"
"I don't! I'm just... I don't trust Vergil."
"I thought we were all in agreement that trust was established between us and Vergil," Ramy said.
"You thought wrong. He gives me chills when he looks at me," Victoria whispered. "He has the eyes of a killer."
"I think he has lovely eyes. He inherited it from his mother you know, and she was such a precious thing."
Nero forced himself to move and look at the girl beside him. She was older, closer to Kyrie's age, and had fiery long hair that swirled around her pale, heart-shaped face.
"Stop." Nero breathed the word out, barely able to form the syllables.
"We need another half pint," Victoria said slow and clearly.
"No." Nero said and rolled his head weakly.
"Alright, alright," Ramy said quickly, and the needle in his arm came out with stinging relief.
"But we need anoth-" Victoria started, alarmed.
"Then we can get it from Vergil. Go get him set up for it."
"But Ramy!"
"But Victoria!" Ramy echoed back mockingly. "Just do it, and take these bags to the fire cauldron to keep it from going off. The last thing we want is for all of this to be done in vain."
"You're impossible!" Victoria said with a shake of her head. "Weren't we just discussing my discomfort around that devil?"
Ramy stopped fussing with Nero for a second to stare at the girl across the bed. "Which would you prefer, the brief discomfort of drawing blood from a willing devil or the scolding we'll receive because you were too concerned over your personal well-being? Sparda will not be impressed if we fail."
"We will not fail. Our lord will return to us!" Victoria snapped back with such vehemence that it jolted Nero's mind back to full awareness.
"If we're late, we fail," Ramy bit the words off distinctly. "Can you grasp that fact? As it is we're already running behind schedule, so unless we keep things up to speed and progressing here, and unless we can bring Dante in and have him work with us immediately, and unless we can do all of this efficiently without turning any of Sparda's lineage against us, we will fail. Now go!"
Victoria collected the blood bags on a large tray and her footsteps faded quickly from the room. Ramy was frowning deeply as she set aside the needles and attached a bag filled with watery liquid to the needle still nestled in his hand. Nero watched her as the fuzz melted away into crisp, clear lines and vibrant, solid colours. His head swam with the sudden overload of fresh images and he found he could move again.
He reached over to rip the needle from his hand, but Ramy's own hands locked around his devil bringer and clung to it tightly. "Don't. It's just water, to help replenish you or you might faint."
"What the hell is going on?" Nero snapped, pulling his hand free of hers and pushing himself up on the bed.
"I can't-"
"What are you going to use all my blood for?"
"Nero, please-"
"Where's Vergil? Let me speak to him!"
"Listen," Ramy said tightly. "If you shut up and stop interrupting me, and swear you'll let me explain so you may come to understand what we're doing, I will take you to him but first-"
"Then talk. I'm all ears," Nero said.
"But first I will take you to your chamber. It's finally been mended and I'm sure you will find it far more comfortable than this place."
"Why don't you tell me what's going on before I go anywhere with you?" Nero countered.
"Because right now your mind is still too sluggish to memorize what is taking place. I would prefer you coherent and fully present when I speak to you. Now, will you come with me willingly, or should I call Alaric back in here to carry you?"