Summary: The Cavendish get answers that they don't like.
Author's Notes:
It's time for some lovely explanations, plot points that many of you have already guessed. Well, might as well make it known in the narrative.
Also the weird virus that was going around FFN seems to be gone now. I think we're safe (for now).
XIII. Imminent Fate
The situation seems to have changed with the Executioner's entrance. Diana understands this even in her befuddled state. It's impossible to disregard the sudden change in scenery.
Diana and the Demon - along with Bernadette and Alcaeus, as she later notices - are no longer in the Cavendish Manor. Proper reality or the Otherworld, intact or in ruins, past or present; whichever case this new environment does not resemble any world that Diana is familiar with.
They appear to be in a wide, expansive cave. Except the cavern walls are made of warm, pulsing flesh rather than stone. The surface itself provides enough lighting, bathing the entire cavern in a dim red glow. Other than Diana and the other three bodies, there is nothing else in the cave. No humans, no Demons, no objects, not even any other inorganic matter besides the fleshy walls itself.
"Agh-!" Diana grabs her head as a pulse of pain rattles her skull. The shadows which had initially only covered half of her body have now spread to at least three quarters through.
The darkness covering her and the Demon nearby pulse in tandem with the rhythm of the walls. Every even beat of the walls reminds her of the last half hour. The calm slowly restores memories of chaos.
The anger returns. Getting stabbed in the chest with a giant cleaver doesn't change the darkness encroaching her mind and body.
Vladimir notices the shift in Diana's demeanor. "Oh geez, at this rate you might as well be one of those cockroaches. Give it a rest already!"
Diana prepares to lunge for the Demon, ignoring the way her foot sinks into the fleshy ground. But instead of going forward, her body jerks a meter from being impaled through the chest from behind. A giant cleaver protrudes from her body, entering from her back and stabbing into the ground to effectively hold her in place.
Vladimir sighs. "Why did you interfere, ◼◼?"
"I ordered it to."
All heads whip toward the voice. There is now another person in the cavern, one that no one perceived before. Like Vladimir, the figure is clad in flickering blackness. But not for long.
The figure sheds its shadows, revealing the body of a young human female appearing in her thirties. The tight black leather shorts and thigh-high boots, dark stockings, black leather gloves, and the white turtleneck sweater and blood red trench coat that hug her upper body- all were chosen deliberately to accentuate the femininity of the form. As it nears the others, the figure twirls a strand of long, white hair around her finger before flipping it over her shoulder.
It halts beside Diana. With a single index finger, it taps the center of Diana's forehead and gives it a slight nudge.
Nothing visible occurs. The only indication of change comes from Diana herself. The shadows covering her body no longer flare, instead coming to a standstill. Clarity slowly returns to her, evident by the widening of her eyes and some of the black covering her sclera to pull back, leaving a sliver of white. Though, her iris remains gold.
"I suppose this form shall suffice for courtesy," the newcomer glances at the Executioner with a tilt of its head, its golden eyes calm but piercing, "seeing as we have a few here who are not of our brethren. I understand the Halfling, but what is your reasoning for bringing the other human?"
"En-glish…?" Diana mutters as the haze in her head abates.
"I have manifested long enough to learn almost every language of humankind, even those that have been forgotten. But that is straying too far from our purpose." It turns its gaze to the only body still unconscious. "I know it has been two years, but have you lost all manners, ◼◼◼◼◼? Surely you would not remain sleeping in the presence of your Allfather?"
Alcaeus' body jerks awake. The battered man turns onto his side to cough.
Bernadette shifts her weight to help him without putting pressure on her injured leg. "Alcaeus, don't push yourself. I might have healed your wounds, but that does not change the fact that you sustained grievous injury before."
Alcaeus' eyes snap open. He practically leaps back and away from Bernadette. First he stares at her, then his eyes dart back and forth from Bernadette to the Allfather as if there is something that isn't adding up in his brain.
"What- This is Purgatory," Alcaeus gasps. "Why… why am I back here? No, no that isn't- Why is Bernadette here?! She is a human! She should not be here! She should have never had to manifest here!"
Bernadette's eyes widen. "This is Purgatory?"
"A portion of it, isolated from most of the dwelling ground of Demons. While humans have the capability to endure the atmosphere of the Otherworld, it is an entirely different case for that of Purgatory. The Otherworld is simply the border between the human realm and Purgatory, a section that humans should never enter but will not immediately perish if they somehow stumble upon it. It acts as the barrier that prevents humans from ever setting foot into a realm in which they definitely cannot survive. Though, I suppose that is why this location was chosen for your manifestation. The saturation of magical energy is less here, which is the only reason why the human has not succumbed to death yet."
The Allfather pauses as Bernadette covers her mouth with one hand as coughs begin to wrack her body. It watches with impassiveness as Bernadette begins to vomit a mouthful of blood.
"Though it is still Purgatory nonetheless. You will still perish if you stay longer than… I would estimate about ten minutes."
Alcaeus and Bernadette switch roles; now it is the guard who holds his charge, offering his support when her coughs stop and leaves her with nothing but confusion and fatigue. He coaxes Bernadette to lean against him. But as her ear presses against Alcaeus' chest, Bernadette can clearly hear the his heart hammering through his flesh and tattered clothes.
The calm is but a facade. Not that Alcaeus is doing his best job to hide his anxiety in the first place.
The Allfather watches this exchange with a frown.
On the other hand, Vladimir doesn't hide its disdain at all. "I told you it was getting out of hand. At this rate I'm surprised the woman isn't dead yet."
"Dead…? Why would-" Alcaeus grits his teeth. "What have you done?!"
"It isn't so much what ◼◼◼◼ did, but rather what you have done," the Allfather interjects. "My, my, how dire this has become in just the span of two human years. I wonder… do you recall what the conditions for your punishment were?"
Alcaeus narrows his eyes. "My exile, as well as trapping me in the confines of human life, including this body. What does that have to do with Bernadette?"
"Oh, you've forgotten. Now that is amusing," Vladimir chuckles.
"I had sentenced you a punishment equal in your crimes." The Allfather turns its gaze to Bernadette, compelling the woman to regain some of her strength to match the Demon. "Two human years ago, the Demon known as ◼◼◼◼◼ had gone against its own brethren to save a human. You had somehow erased the existence of another Demon in order to save the woman who you currently serve under, the woman you hold."
Bernadette's breath hitches. A memory flashes across her eyes, replacing the current eerie red with green from a familiar forest. Instead of the Allfather, she sees a form of shadows holding the decapitated head and broken body of her mo-
Bile rises up her mouth. Bernadette's hand flies to her mouth. Feeling her sudden discomfort, Alcaeus silently runs a soothing hand across her back in circles.
The Allfather continues, its narrowed eyes the only indication of its opinion about Alcaeus' behavior, "You had exhibited empathy for a human, something that is foreign to our kind. While possessing such emotion does not warrant punishment, it is the fact that you had turned against your own that makes it a crime. In essence, you chose a human over a Demon, your own brethren.
There were two options for punishment. One is the idiom you humans say, 'An eye for an eye.' I could have simply erased your existence just as you did for ◼◼◼◼◼◼◼. However, that only punishes the offender, not the offending act. I cannot address the action you took if you are dead."
"So you chose to exile me, trapping me in a human body that cannot age as a contradiction to live among humans but deviate from their lifespan," Alcaeus states.
"Did you think that was the extent of your punishment? Those clauses do not address your blasphemy in the slightest. Therefore, I added a final punishment. Or rather, I suppose your exile as a human is the supplement to this main punishment."
Alcaeus shakes his head. "I don't… I don't recall…"
"Now that I think about it, you were probably in a state of shock," Vladimir comments.
"To punish not only the offender but the action itself…" Diana mutters through gritted teeth. "If you were to punish the act of act of saving a human, then the opposite would be… to take a life…"
"Alcaeus… has never killed another human…" Bernadette gasps.
The Allfather and Vladimir fixes the two crouched forms on the ground, the former with deadpan while the latter smiles with mounting amusement.
"Not yet."
"Not yet."
Mounting horror dawns on Diana and Alcaeus as the both of them finally put the pieces together. Bernadette herself is too tired to react; it only serves to further everyone else's suspicions.
As Alcaeus looks down at Bernadette with matching ashen expressions, the Allfather adds one last thing, "Demons were never meant to dwell with humankind for long. Why do you think we end up possessing a human to stay in this world for long periods of time? It is because if we do not have a proper barrier to mitigate the effects of our spirits, then we would simply desiccate the vigor of every human in our vicinity until they are nothing but living corpses."
"You were always against this. An odd one out, never interested despite this being an inherent nature of our brethren." The shadows of Vladimir's form vibrate with glee. "It's fitting that your abnormally kind nature sealed the fate of your most important person."
"What…?" Hands tighten around Bernadette's shoulders as he tries to comprehend the implications.
"I had to modify the original feature of Demons in order for you to mingle with humans in your exile." The Allfather points to Alcaeus. "That body is special. As you have experienced, it is slightly different compared to normal humans in durability and physical capabilities. Though that is not all. Similar to possessing a human, it prevents your inherently Demon soul from affecting normal humans in your life. With one exception.
If you ever experience the human emotion of affection, you will curse the human of your desires to a life of suffering. Their fate will be sealed. Just as you showed affection for a human by taking a life, a life shall be taken in response to your own feelings."
"Rather ironic that the object of your affections just had to be the one you saved," Vladimir sneers.
"Affection…? Love…?" is all Alcaeus can mutter in his stupefied state.
"Alcaeus himself is killing her… simply for loving her?" The shadows flare as anger pushes against Diana's sanity. "You condemned her to such a fate when neither the condemned nor the offender knew of the charges?! For such an innocent act?!"
The Allfather flicks its gaze to the side, though keeps herself facing Alcaeus and Bernadette. "That woman is reaching her limit. ◼◼◼◼, return her and ◼◼◼◼◼ to the human realm."
"What of the Halfling?"
"There is something I wish to discuss with her. For now, you are in charge of correcting your excessive damages."
Vladimir stalls. If it had a mouth it would be pursing its lips in thought.
"Understood," it finally replies. "◼◼, I request passage."
The Executioner walks over to stand behind Diana. It wraps its webbed hand around the handle of the cleaver still pierced through her. Clenching its fist, it projects a stream of energy through the blade into the ground. The energy slithers underneath the surface toward Alcaeus, Bernadette, and Vladimir. The single stream breaks off into three, coalescing with the shadows beneath each of its targets.
Nothing else is spoken until Alcaeus, Bernadette, and Vladimir disappear from sight. Only the Allfather, the Executioner, and Diana still held in place remain.
"Now then, we may speak without reserve. But first, perhaps you would like your humanity back."
The Allfather places a gloved hand over Diana's eyes, covering the area of the face with its palm and fingers. With slow, deliberate movements, it pulls back her hand to extract the shadows covering Diana's body as if pulling off the cover of a car. Once the blanket of shadows has been extracted, the darkness unites into a single, small spirit of black and navy blue.
The black spirit huffs a tired sigh, slumping into the Allfather's upright hand as it succumbs to its exhaustion. At the same time, the Executioner readjusts its grip and rips its cleaver from Diana's chest.
Without the anchor holding her upright, Diana lets the sudden lethargy pull her to the ground in a mess of limbs and platinum blonde curls. Despite the dark red staining her hair just as patches of it dirties the rest of her body and clothes, there's a clear difference between the shade of blonde for her disguise as opposed to the shade of her actual hair color. At the moment, it is definitely in the form of the latter.
Diana's eyes shoot open just before they can close from torpor. (My… hair…?!)
Diana pulls herself upright into a sitting position to examine herself. She even tries to rub the blood from her eyes to make sure her vision is clear- though her right eye remains murky thanks to the still bleeding cut above that eye. But nothing changes. Sure enough, not only is she no longer covered in shadows but she is also in her actual form. The disguise is no longer present.
"There was a reason why I chose not to remove the source of your madness until now." The Allfather eyes the spirit in its hand. "Removing the spirit which granted you the ability to break through your inherent limitations would require extracting the source of magic corrupting you. It just so happens to also 'peel away' any enchantments on your person. And I had a hunch you had your disguise for a reason. Now all my suspicions have been answered. You are the daughter of Alcaeus and Bernadette Cavendish, are you not?"
Diana freezes.
The Allfather crouches down and places the spirit beside Diana. "You of all people should have come to this realization first. Or perhaps you have and you are simply denying it? Though, that is of no importance. If you do not know of the circumstances for the situation you are in, then it is not something I will discuss nor fault you for."
Diana clenches her fists, barely reigning in her anger. "And yet you allowed a Demon to possess my mother's uncle to wreak havoc on their celebration, all to ascertain my existence? To debase a hospital and swamp?" Flashes of blood, death, destruction, Akko, flit through in an instant. "You claim no condemnation, yet instigated the chaos?"
"I said I did not fault you, I did not specify the measure by which ◼◼◼◼ should carry out its duties. It is not a matter of weighing collateral damage; why should I concern myself with such trivialities? I am, after all, not human. Do you humans consider the consequences of those you conquer? Whether it be animals or fellow humans?" The Allfather's cold stare bores into Diana. "To preach pure morality is an inevitable contradiction."
"This is not an issue of morality," Diana retorts, using her mounting anger to stagger to her feet. "You involved bystanders who should never have been caught in the situation. Even we humans have restrictions and regulations to limit our savagery. Your selfish desires to achieve your own goals is nothing comparable!"
"Oh? Selfishness you say? That is exactly what we Demons embody, yet at the same time we do not care for such labels either. We simply act as we wish; that is how we live, just as your brethren have your own lifestyles. Who are you to lecture either myself or my brethren on such rules? Are you sure you are not simply allowing your own emotions influence such judgment?"
The world comes to a halt, shifting to a different scenery as a recent memory pervades her consciousness.
She is back outside the Cavendish Manor, surrounded by monsters she now knows to be the lesser beings that populate Purgatory. Her body stands frozen and entranced by the scene many meters away near the edge of the moat.
Akko's pained voice. The white-knuckled grip on the lance speared through her torso. Crimson trailing down the weapon and dripping onto the dead grass. Vladimir continuously shaking the offending object, tearing Akko's wound further.
The scream that ensues echoes within Diana's ears. Her gut wrenches itself, as if Akko's agony translates over to her own body from simply watching Akko writhe in pain. She wants to alleviate it. But she can't. She can't move, she can't help, she couldn't prevent this in the first place.
(This is my-)
Diana's hand flies to her mouth to prevent the rising bile from escaping her throat.
The Allfather regards her with a raised eyebrow. "Ah, I see. You are just like them. Those other two, I mean. No, not that they are - or I suppose will be - your parents. The expression you wear matches theirs to perfection. It is such a human expression. Though I am familiar with the human emotion known as affection, it is not something I would say I desire to see so often at once. Like those other two, you have someone important to you as well, don't you? Perhaps one of the innocent bystanders you mentioned prior?"
Affection is the furthest thought from Diana's mind. But instead of retorting, she clenches the hand over her mouth into a fist and levels a glare at the Allfather.
"Oh? This person must be important to you. I can practically bask in the sheer animosity pouring from your existence. ◼◼◼◼ must have targeted that one directly. I would say perhaps you may even feel… a budding sense of love for this one."
Diana narrows her eyes. For a moment, she entertains the possibility that she feels anything of the sort toward the person on her mind. But the persistent anger drowns out her normal logic, preventing her from considering anything past the unforgivable Demon in front of her. It takes nearly all of Diana's self control not to grab the nearest object and maim any offenders she can reach.
Such animalistic rage should have horrified her. It should have, yet it doesn't. After feeling the liberation of allowing emotions to fuel her, considering otherwise almost seems counterintuitive. Therefore, in her hazy mind, Diana accepts these hostile urges. She barely has the leftover cognitive capabilities to prevent herself from actually acting on them. But no matter how much control she has, Diana can't deny the emotions and desires simmering beneath her fragile film of self-control.
"What is so interesting about a Halfling?" Diana deflects instead, using the change in topic to steer herself away from one that may actually trigger her impulses.
The Allfather pulls back. "Everything. As I said, it is impossible for a Demon to mingle with a human, let alone procreate. Thus, there has never been a single existence who shares the blood of both a human and a Demon, at least not naturally. Though, I suppose if we are being technical, it still has not happened yet at this time. In a few years, when those two have you."
Diana frowns. "Alcaeus' feelings for my mother are the reason for her declining health. For Mother to carry me…"
"Means that man now known as Alcaeus will continue to love Bernadette, despite the inevitable tragedy."
"Knowing this, he cannot allow that to happen." Diana drops her head into her palm. "If he truly loved her, he would preserve her life even at the expense of his feelings."
"Ah, but that is not what happens, is it?" The Allfather's lips pull up into a sardonic smile. "After all, you still exist."
"He would… let her die…?"
The Allfather hums. "Perhaps. Or perhaps there is more. I am no expert on human motivations and emotions, nor do I wish to be, but perhaps you should keep this in consideration. Though, I suppose you have much to ponder at this point. Speaking of which, do you have any idea a method to return to your own time?"
There are too many things to contemplate. Coming to terms with the identity of her father, the subsequent realization about her own existence, not to mention her own feelings regarding her companion; there's too much for her to prioritize. The subject of their time travel had been pushed to the side since everything that has happened in the span of a single night.
"No," Diana finally responds.
"That seems to be something rather important, don't you think? Perhaps you should prioritize that over your other worries. Of course, that is simply a suggestion." The Allfather regards Diana's pale expression and wide eyes, staring blankly at the ground as she's lost in thought. "Though you seem to require some time even before tackling these concerns. ◼◼, I believe it is time to send her back to the humans. Ah, but first…" The Allfather waves its hand and casts a glamor spell on Diana, reverting her back to her disguise. "I believe this is the form she chose for her disguise. That should be fine for now."
The giant pyramid head tilts to the side, silently asking the Allfather if its business has concluded.
"My main concern was to ascertain the intentions of the Halfling and observe its behavior. Not only were both of these goals accomplished, but I have also managed to determine its origins. I have no further interest; for the moment at least."
The metal pyramid tilts down, the Executioner acknowledging its orders. The large Demon stands behind Diana and raises its cleaver.
"Ah, and you should take this little one as well."
The Allfather crouches down, picks up the tired black spirit, and drops it on Diana's shoulder. Unlike the previous two times, Diana does not convulse when the spirit touches her. It even finds the opportunity to burrow into Diana's coat just as it had hid on Alcaeus' person.
"Now that the original limiter has been removed, contacting that spirit or any of its kind will not trigger the side effects you had experienced before. However, that also means your latent abilities are more readily able to emerge than before. I would refrain from coalescing with any Demonic spirits, lest you wish to completely lose your humanity for good."
"What becomes of Alcaeus now?" Diana asks, the sudden question making the Executioner pause.
"I will still have someone observe him, though no one should interfere in his life as ◼◼◼◼ did," the Allfather replies. "Besides, I am rather interested to see what he chooses to do from this point on."
Diana narrows her eyes. Before she can ask for an elaboration, the Executioner brings its cleaver down and pierces Diana through her chest from the back to the front. She's only given a moment to gasp before she finds herself out of Purgatory and back in the decimated ruins of the Cavendish Manor.
Several gasps pull Diana from her blank stare.
"By the Nine, you're alive!" Daryl states the obvious.
Diana ignores her and notes her surroundings. Dawn has broken over the horizon, bathing the remains of the manor in red and gold. The hue warms Diana's soul, a stark contrast to the chilling despair that the red of the Otherworld elicited. The natural light allows her to see that nothing remains of the hall that housed Daryl's birthday party except for debris and brokenness.
None of the guests from the party are left. The only people within Diana's line of sight are Daryl and a few of the manor's servants digging through the rubble. Even Anna is nowhere to be found.
"Where are Akko and the others?" Diana asks Daryl.
"Your friend is being tended to in the part of the manor that wasn't destroyed due to your destructive scuffle," Daryl quips. "That is also where Anna took my sister."
There is one person Daryl fails to mention. "And Alcaeus?"
Daryl's stare turns cold. Her hands clench into tight fists by her sides, shaking with unrestrained hostility. Her lips pull up into a inimical snarl, revealing a jaw clenched so tight that reminds Diana of clashing blades.
Diana may be used to Daryl's treachery, but this stark, unbridled anger is incompatible with Diana's usual recall of her aunt. The only other time Diana remembers her aunt being so angry is when…
Diana's eyes widen.
(Whenever I had asked about… Father…)
"That man… that parasite," Daryl hisses, "left with his tail between his legs once the truth was out. If he had not, and dared to stay even after being the cause for my sister's declining state, I would have killed him myself."
Author's Notes:
Is this unnecessary angst? Sorry I'm so overdramatic LOL
This will get resolved! Somewhat…
Fun Fact:
Lancer of Black from Fate/Apocrypha has hair befitting of a Cavendish. GUESS WHO UNCLE VLAD IS BASED OFF OF.
I mean, they're so similar that someone drew fan art of Diana in Lancer of Black's clothes. Link is at: pixivDOTnet/member_illustDOTphp?mode=medium&illust_id=63810068