Never thought I would be able to map out where I can go for this story. It's so big, and with Vergil in it means it'll be bigger. But I did it, so here is what's to come. Also didn't wanna keep you guys waiting any longer, but you might have to wait longer for the rest of the chapters. Slow writer here.

Chapter 2: Reclusive one

Vergil couldn't sleep. Every Time his eyes closed, every time he felt his eyes as he was getting some light reading in, it reminded him of the need to get up and do something, something involving him getting stronger in any shape of form. Vergil had to keep telling himself how vital sleep is for the body to grow, mend, and heal for the next day. But again, deep in his core, he didn't want to sleep.

He wanted to fight. Fight something strong. He rose from the bed he was on, the only shade of light coming from the open window with the moon illuminating its light through his room. The room he made at home didn't have a lot to say about Vergil; only the newer silk base naive and black clothing he put on was new, while the hoodie itself was still old but stitched up thanks to himself.

Coloring's choice spoke firm of Vergil, light, and gave him good enough comfort to be mobile.

With shoes on his feet and the sword made from his father hung idly by his side, he quietly made his way out through the small hall. It contained two other rooms, Cirilla's, who he could hear was sleeping soundly, and her relative, who was kind enough to let Vergil stay. He opens the door and closes, finding himself with the view of the city he's in, 'Even when the night has fallen, people of Kaer Trolde still work to keep the city going,' Vergil observed, almost impressed to see how this city converse with one and another.

Vergil can see the locals here were doing various things. From promoting their wears involving animal's fur as clothing, hammers hitting metal that involved the building of blades and armor, talking amongst each other, helping ship sails, and even assisting ships in docking to where items were being carried out. Most of all were the warriors that made sure this city was kept safe from those who intrude; wearing fur from animals that kept them warm, wearing steel plates that kept them from harm, having both shields and swords to combat any of those that oppose them, these were the warriors that protect Ard Skellig. Then, the vast mountains overlook the city itself, with a bridge that leads to what seems like a castle that had a leader watching over them from above.

Vergil spared no more time taking in the city he has been living here for weeks. Nearby were soldiers that were guarding the home where Cirilla lived. Their armor was much different from Ard Skellige warriors, having more armor than and their metal color weaving from silver to gold. Their game of cards momentarily stopped when they saw Vergil going to grab one of the horses, "Again?! Young lad like you shouldn't be going out this late," stood up and shouted his concern to Vergil.

"If queen Calanthe says it's alright, then we'll have to let him be," the man eyed how Vergil was ignoring them, more focused on making sure the horse was calm enough to be ridden, "Plus, the boy himself doesn't much care about what we have to say. I mean, who else would carry a sword like that around with them."

The guard shook his head as he sat back down, "Lad's crazy. Doesn't matter if he can hold his own out there. He should be more focused on his childhood he has right now, instead of growing up fast to be a man."

"In this world, some don't have a choice. You and I both know that, but let's not focus on that. I was whipping your ass in our Gwent game, wasn't I?" He asked cheekily.

"Fuck you weren't!"

Vergil was able to calm the horse and took a bit of time due to the horse fearing the utter presence of what Vergil is, but seeing how calm, gentle, and kind Vergil presented to him was relaxed in his soft hands patting him and comforting him. Soon enough, they rode out of Kaer Trolde. Vergil can feel the coldness of Skellige just from seeing his breath alone, but he didn't mind nor complain about it as he was used to it. Maybe it was the demon that's part of him giving him that extra warmth, or perhaps he just outright doesn't care.

Either way, he's focused on the journey ahead of him. He started moving to where there were more trees and plants in the area, one where he can pick up the movement and howls of wolves, or even other unknown creatures as they snarl and fight for their food. Some tried to pursue him, but because of how fast his horse was moving, they lost interest in the hunt.

'If I remember correctly, these parts in the woods should have cyclops roaming around here,' Vergil moved through the forest side instead of the clear roads. Doing this is where he caught sight of a cyclops passing by him, and hearing the gallop of the horse brought attention to Vergil, 'There you are…'

The cyclops was a colossal creature, one having the hands, the body, and feet similar to a human, but only retaining one set of eyes with the rest of his face looked like it was mushed in a different direction. Vergil wouldn't understand what made these creatures and why they induced such a look on them, only that it'll provide practice for his much-needed training.

It released a loud, heavy roar as it charged at Vergil. Vergil backflips off his horse onto the giant's head and hops off back to the ground. It caught up to the horse, grabbing it and easily smashing it to the ground, '...Maybe not a smart plan, but it gives me time to try to use something different,' as the cyclops soon realize the boy was no longer on the horse and behind him, Vergil stood there, gazing at the cyclops as he was concentration on his power to pierce through the cyclops.

It again roared, charging at Vergil, but he was frightened by what it could do to him. A small groan came out of Vergil, just as a blue sword was sent straight to the cyclops' legs, making it trip and fumble onto the ground near Vergil. It was still alive but in paint, and it had the strength to grab Vergil by the leg to raise him high enough to where it could eat him. Yet, Vergil simply took his blade out of his sheath and wiped its finger clean off. Vergil didn't care about its screams; it was dead as soon as Vergil went into the background with a single downward strike to its neck, decapitating it.

Vergil flicks the blood of his sword and puts it back to his sheath, 'I'm still slow when coming to summon a sword from thin air, but at least I can do it. Why can't I do it in the middle of combat against those demons is beyond me. Because I need time, isn't it? Need time to focus on my demonic power to bring it out. I guess I'll keep working on it with reality presenting these types of monsters to fight against.'

The answer was a mystery to him. He went back to check on his horse, to which he found it was still alive but breathing heavy. It was indeed dying, and Vergil sat by it as he passed his gentle hands on its body, "Know as you die, you were very much useful in battle," Vergil spoke cold but soft at the same time to the dying horse.

Soon it stopped breathing heavily on the snowy ground, and it lay dead in front of Vergil. Vergil then headed back to Kaer Trolde. It took some time due to him walking, avoiding, or fighting some wolves that annoyed his walk, but he did make it back. As clean as he fights, he isn't soaking in the blood of those creatures.

He entered back into the place he was staying, "So you return," said a voice coming from the living room. Vergil saw a woman in a chair, wine in front of her as paper notes lay next to it, "I must say you're a rather adventurous and curious young boy going out there by yourself, swinging that blade of yours when cutting down those creatures. Your parents must've taught you well to be able to handle yourself like that."

"They have indeed, queen Calanthe," Vergil said, bowing his head in respect for the queen. In hindsight, she looks like an older version of Cirllia, but all with more beauty, class, and an authoritarian figure that Vergil can simply feel from her look alone, "I assume your duty as queen of Cintra is what made you get up?"

"Yes, in a sense. A job as a ruler means you have to forsake some bit of sleep for the greater good of your land. Getting up early than everyone else requires work to be done quickly and swiftly. Time is always of the essence and should never be wasted. Tell me something; what brings you here to Skellige? My granddaughter always speaks of you as more of an introvert than anything." She curiously asked Vergil.

"Wasn't a plan to be here, but since I'm here, I aim to learn what I can and move on."

The queen of Cintra knows a deflection when she hears one. She understood he's one to keep whatever cards he has to himself, and it made her like the boy even more, "Ah, I see. Introvert at heart, but extrovert when needed. If you want, I'll make sure to have a place for your rest in Cintra as we won't be here for too long, likely another few more months when the new year presents itself."

Vergil nodded, "Thank you for the hospitality."

She waved him off, "A queen is always kind to everyone, as long as they aren't a threat in my eyes."

As Vergil went back to his bed, he couldn't help but criticize himself for the hospitality he has been presented with for almost a month now, 'I don't need their help, but I have no choice but to accept it. Or maybe it's because of their kindness I couldn't say no. Still soft. Still weak. I must not accept these human emotions. Must bury it to be strong. Strong like my father, and even more stronger.'

Morning arose, and Vergil found himself in the highest part of Kaer Trolde, one where the castle stood over the city. He was in the hall full of Skellige people, dancing, eating, conversing with one another, and brawling with each other till one submitted.

Vergil, on the other hand, was eating the warm bread that was baked at well temperature, the bit of fruits that were laid out around him, the eggs, bacon, ham, everything here was made with love and care that he was busy chowing down each meal while observing the few brawls in the castle.

'They lacked skill, more focus on using raw strength to take each other down. A good swing that dazed him, which can lead to a follow-up if he's smart enough. He should approach next with a faint then…. Ah, won't even get the chance since he's down on the ground,' Vergil wasn't only just observing the brawl but the people here in the ballroom, 'The same people come here to feast. And the queen of Cintra always sat with the groups of leaders in the section of Ard Skeillge, looking elegant, strong, yet enjoying herself. Along with the mighty Crach an Craite, ruler of Kaer Trolde, his howl of laughter was somehow the loudest than everyone else's.'

"AIM FOR THE STOMACH! HE'LL BE VOMITING IN A SECOND!" Cried out came from Crach himself. A bearded man with red hair that looks darker brown than anything while being kept straight by a string headband, and his armor made him look husky when it was just how the armor was made for him, 'Is this what is like to be amongst others you can trust with your life? To value honor and friendship? All this…. Seems rather foolish when either one of them would backstab Crach or Calanthe.'

"I still can't get used to you eating like that," the one and only Cirilla spoke near Vergil, taking him away from his thoughts. She was taking her time with her food, "You sure you're not from Skellige? You carry yourself like one."

Vergil, for a moment, stops eating his food to take one look at Cirilla. She was unimpressed with his stoic nature by now and focused more on the food, "Never in a million years would I act like one. Just because I eat faster than most doesn't mean I'm a Skellige. Toussaint is a far superior place than here."

Cirilla chuckled at his devotion for his home, "Careful with how you say that. People here don't like when others put down their home."

"I'm not," he went back to eating and observing, "It's a fact."

"Compared to how you're constantly always training and going off somewhere in the night," she shrugs, "Just seem a lot like a Skellige warrior than anything, always craving for a fight no matter where it's at," Cirilla acknowledged.

During this moment, The fight that Vergil was observing was over. The two brawlers were sitting down and sharing a drink. Vergil wouldn't understand how some people can be alright with punching one another and act like it was like a friendly competition when they bruised up, "...Cirilla…?"

She perked up from Vergil, almost entirely tone to her name, "Still not used to a prick calling me by my full name. But what is it?"

Vergil ignored what she just said and tried to figure out what he wanted to ask her, "How do people let go of fighting one another like that?"

Cirilla shrugs, "It's how some people are, I guess. I wouldn't quite know how to explain how some people are, but in this case, the people of Skellige love the thrill of the fight. It's how most gain respect from each other, and it's how they properly get to know someone."

Vergil would spend the next few minutes thinking about that when a teenager came scurrying near Cirilla while having someone else in a headlock, "Ai! Ciri!"

Vergil can see from the corner of her eyes how Cirilla looked more vibrant at the sight of this teenager, one who share the same red hair, loud booming voice, and joyish look like Crach had when watching a brawl go down, "Jeez Hjalmar, give Cian a chance to fight back," she both giggled and her full attention to Hjalmar.

"Then how else would the pipsqueak learn how to fight back," suddenly, his toe was stomped hard by Cian, "Ah!" With his chance to escape, Cian went running, "Bloody bastard! Fight like a man!" Again, Cirilla was enjoying the scene at the same time with Vergil still eating and now reading a book,"Little shit is lucky I'm hungry," he sat by Cirilla and too also chowed down his food similar to Vergil.

Without one noticing, it seemed like the two were going through a competition, but in reality, they were both hungry for the delicious food Skellige had to offer. Cirilla couldn't only eye roll as she was still eating her portion of her food, "How's… You learning how to ice skate going, Ciri?"

"Enough to where I'll likely beat your score."

Hjalmar shrieked in sarcasticness, "We'll see. You'll get your shot today, but I must say I won't go easy just because you're a girl."

"I hope you don't. Otherwise, it'll be a shame that you had to make a girl win."

They both enjoy the little back-in-back talk, whereas Vergil was again in his little world. Cirilla had to tap him on the back of his head to gain his attention. She didn't want to leave him out of the conversation she had with Hjalmar, "How ya liking Skellige… Vigil was it?" Hjalmar asked.

"Vergil," he corrected with a hint of the annoyance of how easy he messed up, "Cold, but it has its charm. The ocean that Kaer Trolde has at the docks makes sleeping easy; people here enjoy their lives, lots of things going on and on. Not a bad place, but I will always prefer Toussaint then here."

Hjalmar scoffs at the very thing Cirilla warned him about earlier. She was facepalming at the second he said that, "You'll get used to it. To the point, you'll forget about what Toussaint was like."

"Toussaint is hard to forget for how warm, lively, and glorious it is. So far, Skeliige doesn't compare to my home any more than it should."

Hjalmar felt irritation bottling up just the way Vergil spoke, short, almost can barely hear what he's saying, and a hint of an introvert just from how uncaring he seemed to look between him and Cirilla, "Ah, shut it with the big words. Don't understand the fock ya saying only that you love Toussaint. Good for you, but Skellige has the food, the weapons, the battles, the warriors far better than what Toussaint ever had. No one cares about how good their wine is. Our wine is glorious too!"

Vergil's eyes moved from his book to Hjalrmars. His blue eyes wanted to pierce through Hjalmars massive grin. Vergil got a sense of the kick he gets just from rattling up people, egging them on to the point they would fight. Cirilla sadly was in the middle trying to enjoy her food, "Looks like I hit a sore spot. What ya gonna do? Hit me? Cause I'll gladly wanna see what the fuss is about with our unknown guest who we don't know anything about."

The sound of slurping coming from Cirilla got their eyes moving on to her, for a second losing that spark of angst to each other, "Sorry. I was just thirsty and didn't mean to interrupt what you guys were on about."

Vergil let go of his glare and went back to his reading. He no longer had the desire to continue eating, "Nothing was happening, Cirilla."

Hjalmar didn't like how dismissive Vergil was about their argument, "Ah! Backing out, you dryshite? Don't have the balls to fight, yet you carry that sword around your side like you own the place?"

Cirilla could feel the tension rising between the two. Somehow, because everyone is enjoying each other's presence and that it was known a fight or two would break out, they pay no mind to the situation, "I would watch how you're talking. Just because you're the son of an Craite doesn't mean I won't let those words sit too long."

"Then stop reading them gibberish shit, and come on then!"

Vergil opened and closed his hands, grinding his teeth as he was trying his best to ignore the teenage Skellige taunting words. What Hjalmar didn't know was how easily Vergil could tear him apart if he wanted to; there wasn't a challenge there, "Why is it that you always have to instigate like that, Hjalmar? If he doesn't want to fight, then leave him be." Cirilla butted in to make sure Vergil doesn't do anything he will regret.

"I'm only instigating due to the fact I don't know who he is," Hajlmar has his arm crossed and shrugs, "You may see him as a friend, but I sure as hell will be wary of him till otherwise."

"Well then, how about he challenges you to ice skating? You'll have to worry about two people beating your high score, and you can embarrass him without fighting if you win. Isn't that right, prick?"

Her smile, that little smile, aggravated Vergil to no end. Deep inside him knew he can't ignore a challenge that hasn't been conquered by him yet, "Fine…" He closes his book and looks at the two that wanted him to stop being so introverted, "Let's get this over with."

Hjalmar now had a grin on his face again. A challenge to beat his score was one he can't wait to see.

Vergil never thought he would succumb to this. Something that was far from a demon was handing his ass on the ground.

Because he mentioned to Cirilla, it would be his first-time ice skating, she had to postpone the ice skating challenge for a few hours so Vergil can at least get the hang of it. But unlike Cirilla, who glided around the ice with such speed, balance, and agility Vergil couldn't get the balance right whenever accelerating, to the point he crashed back on the ice, "Bend your knees! You're letting the Ice get the best out of you!" Cirilla shouted; she was using the glove in her hand to cover the giggles of seeing a frustrated prick fall on his ass. Not to mention, her comfortable coat contracted Vergil's stubbornness of not wearing one himself.

"What you think I'm doing, girl!" Vergil shouted back. As soon as he stood up, he had fallen back on the ground. Cirilla came to his aid and offered him help, "I don't need your help," Vergil pushes her hand away from him and again picks himself up, "I'll conquer this on my own."

As Vergil was busy learning his new environment, from a distance Hjalmar watched his competition fall on his ass along with the rest of his friends, "And I'm supposed to face him?! HA! Cirilla is the real challenge here!"

The only one who wasn't laughing was a girl who sat near Hjalmar and his friends. She shares a few of Hjalmar's features, but unlike Hjalmars red hair, her's was more proper and taken care of in a ponytail similar to Crach's, "Might want to watch where that mouth flaps, brother." she spoke, giving her two cents on the situation.

"Oh, come on, Creys! Side with me on this one! You know I'll win easily, even against Ciri," he postured.

She sighed, "It's hard to side with you when you don't take a moment to look at your challenges."

"All I see is a challenge and the other who's gonna break a leg or two," Hjalmar laughed with his crew, cutting off what Creys was going to say.

Creys eye roll; she wasn't getting anywhere with Hjalmar, "Boy's will be boys," she muttered under her breath. Unlike her brother, she saw the competition he would be saying. Sure, Cirilla was indeed fast and light on her feet, a unique challenge for Hjalmar, but Vergil was another story. He was improving by the minute; he still falls, gets annoyed by Cirilla, but his improvement lies with Cirilla. Creys trained eye can see Vergil was studying how she maneuvers through the ice itself, to the point a bit of his form is similar to her's. His knee was bent on an equivalent level like her's, he motioned his body along with legs to gain the right speed, and the pure focus on learning this was clear on his face.

It may seem like a scowl, but Vergil was determined to win this challenge.

Some time would pass by when Vergil commenced he's ready. Cirilla didn't voice it, but she was worried that Vergil might become a laughing stock as this wasn't an ordinary race they were doing.

"You know the rules as I know it! And to the one who doesn't," a smug Hjalmar looked at Vergil momentarily, the young Skellige sadly couldn't get a read of Vergil with how poker-like his expression was, "Well, it's simple. Jump over them block of ice as many times as you can, and with a bonus of coming in first place. Winner will have Skellige roaring in pride! While losers would be muddled in embarrassment for the rest of their life!"

"Is that it? No extra challenge on the side? Rather too simple here, Hjalmar," Cirilla jester got a few snickers just as her excitement was radiant enough to get Hjalmar's blood pumping.

"Sure, dazzle us with how good you are, but I promise you I will do better."

"Ha! So we shall see."

Vergil was in his head again, understanding what Cirilla and Hjalmar have for each other, 'Hm. She always looks more comfortable and radiant around him. Cirilla should express how she feels to him. The sooner, the better.'

Vergil's eyes also caught Creys mostly watching from the sideline. Then their eyes met one another, with Vergil raising an eyebrow as he thought she would compete too, "I don't do this extreme skating. Could end up hurting something bad," she said as she read Vergil's curiousness.

He nodded, "Least there's one Skellige person that takes into account of their environment."

This time, Creys raised her eyebrow as she wasn't sure if it was a compliment or a rude comment of her people. Either way, the ice-skating challenge was about to start as skaters were in their position. Hjalmar began the countdown.

3

2

1

They were off. One of Hjalmar's friends already had a bad start, falling flat on his face. Cirilla was in the lead compared to all of them; swift as she showed, she leaped over the ice obstacle in front of her without breaking a sweat. Hjalmar would have been impressed if he wasn't competing to win, and Vergil kept himself steady behind Hjalmar's friends.

Each of them leaped over the obstacle, some of them also not being able to keep their balance upon landing, but Vergil was able to keep his balance and move forward. After jumping a few more times over the block of ice, Vergil started to reach towards Hjalmar while Cirilla was busy having fun being in the lead, "Come on! I thought you all would put up a challenge!" She shouted from ahead.

"Don't ya worry, Ciri! I'll take that lead from you," Hjalmar shouted back as he constantly jumped over three-block of ice, though not as elegant as Cirilla, who was showing off with flips now. At one point, Vergil wasn't precise with his jump, causing his skate shoes to hit the tip of the ice and would have by far had him on the icy floor again if he didn't quickly do a similar flip as Cirilla did seconds ago. He landed and now was neck and neck with Hjalmar. They had a small moment of glancing at each other; Vergil would have expected Hjalmar to be surprised at how fast he was able to conquer the ice, but all he got was a peal of laughter and the same big grin, "I underestimated you. Glad to see you got the balls to keep up with a Skellige."

Vergil huff at that statement, "Your one to talk," both had their eyes forward as they now were also catching up with Cirilla, "Cirilla is still in the lead."

"Heh not if we go through that cave," Hjalmar pointed up ahead, "Unless you're chicken shit!"

Vergil didn't answer, but his movement said otherwise as they both skated into the cave. Vergil wasn't expecting ice glaciers to fall on them, having to maneuver his way around this. Somehow, Hjalmar used his own hands to glide him around these glaciers. Both also had to jump over obstacles.

This was territory Hjalmar was accustomed to while Vergil was adapting at a decent pace, 'What a crazed Skellige,' Vergil thought to himself as he can Hjlamr howl echo through the cave.

Suddenly, Hjalmar moves in a different direction, where Vergil loses sight of him. Jumping over a block of ice and with added spin as he kept himself balanced, he got out of the cave and had caught up with the swift Cirilla herself, "Oh, look at you! Thanks to my helpful teaching, you were able to catch up with everyone!" She giggles as she is now skating backward to showcase how happy she is for Vergil's accomplishment, "Though you were a challenging student, I might add."

Vergil groaned, "I did all that by myself without you. Mostly you just shout things."

"And aren't you not doing it?" Vergil sucked his teeth as he was busy keeping himself balanced than answering that. Cirilla's expression changed into one of shock that got Vergil curious, "He isn't….?"

Taking another note from Ciriila, he started skating backward, and it almost made him fall with the transition. As he kept himself straight on his boot, he can see Hjalmar coming from a higher place above them and then leaping with a much louder howl that the gods above would probably have heard. He flipped himself three times in mid-air and actually stuck the landing, "WOOOO! WHAT YA THINK OF THAT CIRI?! PRACTICE THAT ALL DAY YESTERDAY!"

As impressive as it was to her, Cirilla eyes widened at Hjalmar, busy looking in her direction instead of what's in front of him, LOOK OUT!" It was too late as Cirilla and even Vergil winced at Hjalmar's lack of attention in front of him. His face went mashing into the hard block of ice that made Vergil and Cirilla stop to check on him. His nose was utterly broken and twisted from the impact, and they can see blood was draining down to his clothes with some of his teeth falling out, "Shit shit shit! Why did you do that, dummy?" Her words came out frantically as she was right by his side, holding his upper body close to her.

He spits out some of the blood that enters his mouth, "...Just trying to impress you with my.. Skills. Ya know?"

Hjalmar looked to be going unconscious, and his friends were now able to catch up with them. They asked frantically what had happened with Ciri, explaining what he had done. To get him aid was a bit far out, but Vergil knew he wouldn't die quickly from this, yet he needed to get treated promptly as possible. Without a second thought, Vergil took up Hjalmar, carrying him on his back with ease that surprised Hjalmar's friends of the small boy holding the taller boy on his back, "Be gentle with him, ok?" Cirilla spoke.

Vergil looked back at Cirilla; she was wiping some tears away from her emerald eyes. Somehow, seeing her in this state made Vergil want to protect her, to see her happy and smiling again. He nodded before departing off.

Because of who Vergil is, he could get Hjalmar the help he needed back at the castle where he lived faster than anyone could. Crach was livid at seeing his son the way he was; if it weren't for Vergil's explanation, he would have thought his son was bloody up from a tussle gone wrong. Hjalmar didn't awake until he was adequately bandaged and stitched up, finding Cirilla, his sister, and his friends by his side. He damn well was ashame of trying to show off to Cirilla, but she immediately put it shamefulness to ease, expressing how cool it was to do something so stupid and brave at the same time.

Vergil wasn't present there, wanting to get back to practicing his swordsmanship by himself. Calanthe home had enough space for her soldiers, herself, and Cirilla to practice. With how focused he was, he almost didn't catch Calanthe watching him, studying his every move that was foreign to her, "What sort of stance is that? I don't recognize many swordsmen using that stance. Self-taught?" She asked curiously.

"I used to study with my father," Vergil answered as he continued practicing, swiping at air but with a precise, clean motion that had weight and speed to it, "He explored places and picked up their tradition for fighting, and taught it to me."

"Ah," intrigue of his movement, she kept her distance from him with her eyes not leaving him. His stance involved either holding his blade in his sheath and then a single swipe that would instantly end a man's life or hold his sword out in different positions.

She also noticed that this foreign stance and movement did not sit well with Vergil; more like it wasn't precisely finished enough to call it a proper stance. As if it was more suited for someone who has more experience, "Whatever is your learning from your father, it looks to be built for him rather than you."

Vergil stops from the hilt of his downward swing. She wasn't wrong in what she was advising; he was chasing someone who died for him to survive, chasing after every inch of his power he once held, "It's all fine, flashy, and a nice spectacle to it, but you're not getting anywhere with that fighting style you're trying to replicate from your father," Calanthe continually advises.

Vergil let go of his stance and turned in Calanthe's direction, "...Are you imposing that you'll teach me something?"

Calanthe's sweet smile crosses her lip as if this is what she wanted, "Only if you want."

For a moment, Vergil closed his eyes and thought about his following approach, 'I want to achieve power on my own, but today… Today showed me that other people could help me reach that power. As much as I deny it, there are these people I can use to my advantage.'

Vergil opened his eyes and took a knee with his head bow, "Teach me what you know."

And so Calanthe did, taught him to let go of his father's stance momentarily and follow the way the queen of Cintra moves.

Cirilla came to her home late. She spent the rest of her afternoon with Hjalmar; surprisingly, Hjalmar could communicate fine when he woke up, and Cirilla had good laughter when feeding him some food.

She made sure to clean herself of the sweaty, fun day she had. She then went to her grandmother's room, where she can see the candle lighting up her room showcasing her reading a book, "Goodnight, grandmother."

"How's Hjalmar?"

Cirilla's eyebrow raised, "Vergil told you?"

"He wanted to make certain of why you were coming late. Honestly, I wasn't sure of him when you first introduced him to me, but he's a kind, noble child, albeit a reclusive one. A good friend to have when you need him."

"I guess so. More of a prick in my book."

"Oh, come now. He most likely isn't fond of your characteristics either."

Cirilla scoffs, "I'm not fond of him, period."

"Yes. It's why you're almost arguing with him daily about something."

"Either way, Hjalmar is fine. Healing up nicely."

Her grandmother nodded, "Tomorrow, I want you to meet this person in the morning. Seems quite a gentleman for his age."

Cirilla wanted to say something about it, but it was nighttime, no need for an argument. She'll likely leave it for the morning. She got out of her grandmother's room, and instead of going to her room, she went to Vergil's room. He was also reading something, "Why is everyone here reading when they should be sleeping?"

She lay flat on the end of his bed, "Shouldn't you be sleeping then?"

"Don't feel like it yet. I see you're getting my grandmother's attention."

"Isn't too hard. I'm a guest here more than anything."

"A guest who knows how to swing a sword. She loves when a boy knows how to handle his own at a young age, probably why she's admiring you."

"Maybe…Hjalmar is recovering from that stunt?"

"Oh? So surprise you care."

"Just answer."

"He's recovering nicely," she giggled, "Had to feed him while he complains about wanting to do it himself."

"You should tell him how you feel," Vergil flips a page, "How you really feel."

"What?" Cirilla sits upon her bed, giving Vergil a questioning look, "I don't have feelings for him."

"You do."

"Prove it."

Vergil sighs as he closes his book twice today to get something over with, "The way you were always smiling so hard around him, how your whole face lit up at the sight of him, and how you always watch him even when he's eating. You have feelings for him."

"I mean…." Cirilla looks away from him, trying to figure out what she wants to say next, "I still lik-"

"You might have, but you're fond of Hjalmar more than that older person. I don't know how much, but you are. Express how you feel instead of holding it in."

"Again," she looks back at him, "When did you start caring about how people feel?"

"I don't." he goes back to reading.

The room went quiet for a bit, with Cirilla moving by his bedside to use one of his pillows to fall asleep. She felt happy to know that Vergil has a caring side then a prick side with her back turn. And when she was soundly asleep, Vergil couldn't help but glance at the Ashen hair girl who almost killed herself weeks ago for the idea of not having what she wanted because of her age, 'It's more in the fact I just tolerate you. Like how I tolerated Dante...' Simply watching her for how many minutes made Vergil fall into his own slumber. For the first time in a while, he really wanted to sleep instead of fighting something or someone strong.

I would say it's hard to keep where I want Vergil want to be. It's tempting to make him exactly like he is in the canon, but I have to consider he isn't an adult here. With all that he lost and all that he wants to accomplish he is still a kid at the end of the day. See ya whenever.