Hey all.

As some of you might have guessed, things have been rather hectic lately. Between being let go, my computer crashing and looking for a new job, I've had to re-assess my priorities somewhat.

That said, in the few moments of peace I can get, I'll be writing, so while i can't promise regular updates, I can at least get something out.

That being said, due to the death of my hard-drive and loss of my original notes, some of my older fics are being discontinued & other rebooted. If you'd like to adopt one of the ones destined for the recycle bin, contact me to let me know and I'll mention it on my page.

For now, let's get this show on the road!


Fake Life Thirteen: Revelations.

Xenovia Quarta was nothing if not dedicated. Indeed, whether it was her faith in the one true God or her skills with a blade, there were few who could compete with the sheer level of devotion she committed to her duties. And how could she do anything less, having been raised since birth to be a sword of the church, entrusted to wield not one, but two of their most sacred weapons against the heathens and Devils that threatened the sanctity of Christendom?

At least, that had been the way she'd seen herself, back when she'd still been a member of the Vatican, back when everything made sense, back when she hadn't had her eyes forcibly opened, her faith shattered, by the callous words of the Fallen Star of God. After all, how could she have faith in a God that was dead? Worse still, a God that had been dead since the end of the great war Millennia ago?

All this time the Vatican had lorded it over the other faiths how only the Almighty had come out of the battle unscathed, while countless other 'so-called' gods and even Lucifer himself had been slain, when in actuality Christendom barely had a leg to stand on compared to all the other faiths.

In short, Xenovia's entire life up until that point had been based upon a bed of lies and deceit. How could she, in good faith, judge the so-called 'Pagans' and 'Heretics' when they, at the very least, still had Gods to pray to? How many of her former targets had been truly guilty of their 'crimes', and how many had simply been branded as 'sinners' for learning the truth?

It had been a crushing blow, not just to her faith, but also her pride and her sanity, to the point she hadn't even questioned it when word reached her from the Vatican that she'd been excommunicated for the sin of 'consorting with Devils and Heretics'. She'd simply entrusted Excalibur (Hah!) Destruction to Irina, hoping against hope that at least by returning it she could spare her partner from suffering her fate before going into hiding with Durandal.

You might be wondering, if she truly wished to sever all ties with the Church, then why not return Durandal to them as well? After all, unlike the so-called 'Excaliburs', Durandal was a True Holy Sword forged by God himself, one of the few that currently remained within the Church's arsenal, and one they would most certainly try to reclaim by any means necessary, even if a new wielder might not show up for centuries.

The reasoning behind her keeping the blade was actually two-fold. For starters, as much as it hurt to admit, having something that had been personally forged by her beloved God close to her made the pain of learning the truth more bearable, as if by keeping it by her side, she hadn't truly cast aside her beliefs.

As for the second reason? Well, the simple fact remained that Durandal was HERS. Out of countless other Holy Swordsmen, including die-hard fanatics that held close ties to high-ranking members of the clergy, none had been able to so much as touch Durandal.

It was only to be expected really, as a True Holy Sword forged by God, Durandal could not be wielded by just anyone. Much like how Excalibur, or Caliburn rather, had only accepted King Arthur, Durandal had been entrusted solely to Sir Roland, and following his death no-one had been able to wield the blade properly until centuries later, when the now Legendary Vasco Strada laid his hands upon it.

If there was a single person Xenovia would openly admit to admiring to the point of idol-worship, it would have to be Vasco Strada. And how could she not? Was he not the prime example of what a true Exorcist should be? Not only that, but despite his overwhelming power and influence, despite Devils and Heathens alike shuddering at the mere mention of his name, the man in question was not only as gentle as a lamb, but possessed of the compassion of a saint.

It was these traits that had earned him the undying loyalty of all those placed under his authority, with many of those who studied under him rising to become high-ranking members of the clergy. Unfortunately, despite all of his saintly traits, at the end of the day Father Strada was but a mere mortal, and like all mortals he could not cast aside the shackles of old age, and so it was that, despite numerous pleas to reconsider, he was forced to relinquish the blade when it became apparent his skills had begun to decline.

Though he remained a valued member of the clergy, even reaching the position of Cardinal, his absence from active duty, and Durandal's refusal to acknowledge another wielder, had been a harsh blow to the Exorcist forces. And could you really blame them for being so despondent? After all, who in their right mind honestly believed they could step up to the legacy of the man hailed behind closed doors as the 'Fist of God?'.

Now that Xenovia thought about it, Cardinal Strada's retirement from active duty had probably been one of the many factors that led to Valper Galilei's Holy Sword project being green-lit. As amusing as it was to imagine the collective soiling of robes the old men had suffered once they realized that not only had they lost their strongest warrior, but his weapon had essentially been reduced to a decorative ornament, she could still understand their desperation to produce a warrior even half as competent as Father Strada.

That being said, while the Vatican had eventually realized just what sort of monster Valper was and reacted accordingly, the fact they were content to use the insane Archbishop's research to further their own agendas only served to remind her of how corrupt the Vatican had become. And in the end, just what had the research afforded them? Even with Lord Michael supervising the extraction and implantation of Holy element into candidates, none of their acolytes were deemed worthy enough to wield one of the few remaining True Holy Swords.

And then Xenovia had come of age.

Like many potential exorcists from the current generation, Xenovia had been one of many orphans entrusted to the Vatican that was deemed capable of undergoing the trials necessary to become a Blade of the Church. As a result, her earliest memories involved indoctrination and harsh training in the combat arts, as was typical of all Pages prior to accepting a particular path.

While the agents of the Church were collectively referred to as 'Exorcists', they were actually divided into several 'castes' in order to maximize efficiency by covering a variety of fields. The first and arguably the most iconic caste were the Knights, those who excelled in close quarters combat with Holy Swords. Though their prestige had fallen somewhat following Cardinal Strada's retirement, the implementation of Valper Galilei's Holy Sword Project had resulted in a recent influx of new members, though few were deemed worthy of wielding a 'True' Holy Sword, not even Irina, who hailed from a long line of Exorcists herself.

This proved a stark contrast to the Dragoon class, which specialized in the use of ranged combat. Unlike the Knights, the Dragoons had only benefited from the passage of time and the advancement of firearms technology in particular, allowing them to supplant the Knights as the church's go-to field agents for a time, resulting in something of an unofficial rivalry between the two castes.

Thankfully, the three 'support' castes didn't possess any particular grievances towards one another, though that didn't really mean much when you considered how both the Knights and Dragoons tended to look down on them despite how valuable they were.

Take the Doctor caste for example; as their name implied, members of this caste specialized in the treatment of wounds, both natural and those inflected by Demons, spirits and what have you. Or the Arias, so named for their ability to exorcise and severely weaken Spiritual and Demonic entities by reciting verses from holy scriptures. And finally there were the Tamers, those who possessed the ability to summon and control various 'Contract Spirits' to both attack and provide support.

While their overall combat ability tended to be weak, and few, if any, possessed the talent for summoning required to become a Tamer, not even the most die-hard fanatic could deny that the Support Castes provided a much-needed service, to the point most Exorcist teams typically possessed at least one support caste member among their ranks.

That being said, while most of her fellow pages quickly found themselves a niche to fill, Xenovia proved decidedly harder to place. Despite her faith and ability to recite the bible by heart, her lack of patience, blunt demeanor and general preference of confronting her foes directly made her ill-suited to become an Aria or Doctor, while her general disdain for firearms and anything even closely resembling heathen 'Magic', eliminated any chance of her becoming a Dragoon or Tamer.

Fortunately for Xenovia, her skills and dedication to the way of the sword had not gone unnoticed by her instructors, and she soon found herself apprenticed to Griselda Quarta, a high-ranking Exorcist who took her on as her personal Squire, even going so far as to become her legal guardian. which proved to be an…interesting experience, to say the least.

Oh, make no mistake, Xenovia was eternally grateful for her master's tutelage, but that didn't change the fact Griselda could by bloody terrifying when she wanted to be, usually simply to get a reaction out of her Squire. Despite all that, Xenovia would freely admit that Griselda was the closest thing she'd ever had to a mother figure, and for the longest time she'd done everything she could to earn her approval.

She could still remember the smile on her master's face the day she'd passed the Knight Trials, the same day she was deemed worthy of wielding Durandal. To this day, it remained one of her fondest memories, and following her excommunication it served as one of her strongest motivators for retaining Durandal. So deep was her respect for Griselda, in fact, that despite being excommunicated, despite casting aside her faith and throwing in her lot with the Grigori, Xenovia hadn't cast aside her teachings, which was why she was currently gasping for breath, Durandal held before her as she glared at her opponent.

It would be no exaggeration to call this place a battlefield, an arid wasteland marred by the scars of battle, the land itself scorched by raging flames, littered with shrapnel from scattered blades and shattered earth. On one side stood Xenovia, clad in her skintight battle suit, the blessed fabric, which was designed to deflect small arms fire, littered with tears, exposing the glancing wounds she'd received over the course of the battle, a stark contrast to her opponent, who despite breathing heavily from exhaustion, was completely unharmed.

"Do you wish to continue, Emiya-sama?" she called out, looking on warily as the self-proclaimed 'Faker' caught his breath, part of her secretly hoping he would choose to continue, as she hadn't had such a satisfying duel for some time now.

"No, I think that's enough for today." The magus gasped, rising from his crouch, the beautiful Chinese falchions he seemed to prefer vanishing back into the ether as he wiped the sweat from his brow, drawing her attention the shock of white that interrupted his formerly red hair "Thanks again for the workout, Xenovia-san."

"Think nothing of it, Emiya-sama." The former Exorcist assured him even as she returned Durandal to its storage dimension "Governor Azazel has entrusted me with your well-being, so it is only natural that I assist you with your swordsmanship training."

And in all honesty, Shirou needed all the help he could get. While his combat skills and fighting style were certainly impressive for his age, especially given his claims of having received no formal training outside of basic Archery, it meant little if he faced an opponent who could simply overwhelm him with pure force or speed, which were the bread and butter of Devils who chose to engage in close-combat.

"Still, I can't believe Azazel had something like this set up…" Shirou mused, gazing around at their surroundings. At first glance, one would be forgiven for believing they were standing in the middle of a rocky desert filled with dead trees beneath a cloudy red sky. Barren, that is, save for the ornate Silver door that was conspicuously standing right in the center of the rock-strewn land. A door that Shirou knew for a fact led to the basement of Azazel's mansion back in Kuoh "He really does have a lot of time on his hands."

"Supposedly he got the idea from an…anime? Am I saying that right?" Xenovia mused, tilting her head to the side in confusion "Regardless of its origins, I cannot fault his design. Having a suitable place to practice one's skill is truly a Godsend-!"

"Xenovia-san?" Shirou blinked, looking over at the former exorcist in concern as she trailed off with a wince, only to frown as she averted her eyes from his own "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes…No…" Xenovia sighed, shaking her head in frustration "I honestly don't know, Emiya-sama. Physically I am fine, and mentally I have resolved myself to put my past behind me…" she placed a hand over her heart "It's just…I fought so hard to uphold my beliefs, sacrificed everything to uphold the doctrines of the Church…" she closed her eyes with a grimace "Despite having learned the truth, a part of me just can't bring myself to cast aside those beliefs I once cherished."

Shirou said nothing, the 3rd-rate magus regarding the former exorcist with concern, understanding all-too-well the dilemma she was facing, as it was one he'd faced himself not too-long ago. While their situations were different, Xenovia having cast aside her ideals after being betrayed, as someone who had cast aside his ideals only to be betrayed, Emiya Shirou was quite possibly the only person the former exorcist could relate to.

"Xenovia-san…do you still believe in God?" he asked, only to mentally kick himself for his bluntness when the girl turned to stare at him "What I meant to say was: Do you still believe in his teachings?" he elaborated "I'm not talking about what you were trained to do as an exorcist, but whether or not you still believe in the teachings passed down by God before he passed away?"

"But of course!" Xenovia exclaimed, as if insulted that he'd even have to ask "Though the Church may have twisted them to suit their own ends, the teachings he passed down are not wrong!"

"Then why should it matter if he's alive or dead?" Shirou pressed, scratching his cheek awkwardly at her look of surprise "I'm probably not the best person to say this, given my stance of Deities in general, but I think your God would be more than content that people still follow his teachings even after he died." He smiled wanly "I'd think he'd find that preferable to being forgotten by everyone after all."

Whether they were Gods or Heroes, history had long since proven that the absolute worst thing that can happen to a person after their death was to be forgotten. It was for that exact reason that even to this day people continued to retell the old stories, glorifying the Heroes whilst vilifying the Villains. Though the Age of Gods had long since passed in his own world, they would never truly be forgotten so long as people continued to remember the roles they'd played in countless legends.

'Even if some Gods would be better off forgotten…' he mused, scowling at the memory of the Black Grail formed by Servant Avenger and cursing the Einzberns for their stupidity for the umpteenth time.

"Emiya-sama…" Xenovia whispered, drawing the Faker's attention back to the exorcist turned battle-maid, only to gape at the tearful smile adorning her features "You are right, of course." She agreed, her smile never changing even as she wiped the tears from her eyes "Though the Lord is gone, his teachings remain with the faithful." She placed a hand over her heart "And so long as people truly adhere to these teachings, he will never truly be lost to us." She beamed at him gratefully "Thank you for reminding me of that…truly, you are wiser than your years."

"I can think of several people who would argue otherwise…" Shirou countered with a weak chuckle, a bead of sweat running down his cheek as he recalled the countless lectures he'd received from the various women in his life "If you really want to thank me, then drop the 'sama', okay? My friends call me Shirou."

"Very well then Shirou-sa…Shirou." Xenovia conceded, smiling gratefully at the redhead "Yes, I must admit it sounds right to do so. But I shall only consent if you call me by my own name."

"Um…sure, I guess?" Shirou stammered, honestly startled by how closely the former exorcist's smile reminded him of Saber's, back when the two had sworn to aid one another "C'mon, let's get cleaned up so I can get started on dinner. Did Azazel say he wanted anything in particular?"

"Not that I can recall, no." Xenovia admitted with a shrug as they strode out the door, holding her chin in thought as she went over her last conversation with the Governor General of the Grigori "In fact, I think he said he'd be busy entertaining a guest."


Azazel's Lovely Suite...

"That was one hell of a Sneeze, Devil-kun. I'd say 'bless you' but I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be received very well."

"You'd be right about that." Issei chuckled, wiping his nose on the back of his hand before turning his attention back to the screen.

To say things were looking up for Hyoudo Issei would be an understatement. For the longest time the self-proclaimed 'Harem King' had been forced to accept that the closest he would ever get to actual T&A without having to resort to the literal mountains of porn he kept in his room would typically involve getting the shit beat out of him by angry schoolgirls.

However, following his death and revival as a pawn of Rias Gremory earlier that year, the teen's prospects seemed to be perpetually on the rise, especially after the stellar debut he'd made, crashing her engagement party to rescue her from the grasp of that yakitori-bastard Riser Phenex. Ever since then, and Rias' subsequent decision to move into his home along with Asia, the perverted pawn hadn't so much as looked at a gravure magazine or dirty video.

After all, what need had he to spend his money on static images when he had real-life oppai bouncing on display 24-7? As a result of this, his poor wallet, usually barren post allowance day, was practically bursting at the seams due to the excess of funds he'd accumulated…or at least it would have had he not been forced to pay for a certain pair of exorcists' meal due to the deviousness of a certain suicidal Damned Handsome.

"I mean, seriously, where the hell does he get off trying to act all cool like that?" he muttered, glaring at the screen with his tongue between his teeth, tilting his Famicom controller awkwardly in an attempt to make his car turn faster "Bad enough he totally stole the show, but then he goes and almost offs himself only to disappear on us for a week!" he snorted bitterly "Seriously, why does he get to lay low while we deal with the fallout?"

Now that was putting things likely. Putting aside the original political drama that came with the original theft of the swords & Kokabiel's involvement, the past week had seen both his Master and Sona-Kaichou in almost constant correspondence with representatives of both Heaven and Hell.

In the case of the former, while they were 'grateful' that the situation had been resolved with minimal loss of human life, the fact that all of the Excaliburs barring Xenovia's Destruction, the Roman-Orthadox's Blessing and the missing Ruler had been destroyed hadn't exactly earned the Kuoh faction any favors with the church.

To make matters worse, Xenovia had disappeared with Durandal following the battle with Kokabiel, though not before entrusting Excalibur-Destruction to a confused, heartbroken Irina in what Rias deduced to be a noble attempt to lessen the punishment that likely awaited Issei's childhood friend upon her return to the Vatican.

Then again, Issei could hardly blame Xenovia for running off like she had. Considering the political minefield the Gremory & Sitri peerage were currently dealing with following their exposure to the dark truths behind not one, not two, but three of their ancestral enemy's most closely guarded secrets.

Now Issei had never been particularly pious growing up, unless lusting after Oppai counted, in which case he was probably the best candidate for Pope, Buddha or what have you of whatever perverse religion based itself around such, but from what little he recalled of Irina's family gatherings prior to her moving back to England, he could sort of understand how big a deal the death of their Patron Deity had to be for them.

With that in mind, he'd completely understood when Rias ordered him to keep the secret behind Xenovia's excommunication from Irina, even though it had cut him to the core to see the cold dismissal and shame in his childhood friend's eyes, his heart going out to the pig-tailed exorcist as he watched her leave to return the shattered remains of the Excaliburs to the Vatican, alone.

Though her mission was technically a success, it was entirely thanks to the efforts of the Gremory and Sitri peerages, the same Devils she and Xenovia had been ordered to 'politely' ask to refrain from getting involved, rather than anything of her own doing. To make matters worse, not only had she allowed the stolen swords to be destroyed, she'd lost her own and her partner had done a runner, taking with her one of the few remaining True Holy Swords in the Vatican's arsenal.

Issei might be a pervert, okay screw it he was quite possibly one of the most perverted individuals to walk the earth in the current age, but nothing hurt him more than seeing a girl cry or being unable to help a friend, so watching Irina walk away with her head lowered in shame, unable to offer her so much as a hug or word of encouragement, had been a devastating double blow that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Thankfully for all those involved, things on the Infernal spectrum had been slightly more bearable, partly due to the fact that the reinforcements sent by Rias' elder brother had handled all of the clean-up and political maneuvering, thus allowing the members of the Occult Research Club and Student Council to get some much-needed rest.

That being said, things weren't exactly a bed of roses, as evidenced by the lecture delivered to them by Greyfia-san herself the day immediately following the battle. While Sirzech could not, in good faith, condemn his beloved little sister for her actions, and indeed had praised her & Sona-Kaichou for acquitting themselves against a superior opponent, the fact the heiresses hadn't immediately contacted their elder siblings upon learning that Kokabiel was involved out of misplaced pride hadn't earned them any brownie points with the Lucifer.

Nor, it seemed, had it done anything to improve Grayfia's temper, a fact the 'Strongest Queen' made abundantly clear despite never raising her voice the entire debriefing. Sirzech-sama had apparently been in the middle of a highly important meeting when word reached him about the situation in Kuoh and it had taken the combined efforts of Grayfia and Ajuka Beelzebub to keep the Lucifer from going in guns blazing personally and instead send reinforcements to back them up.

In short, while Rias & Sona had acquitted themselves well given the situation, the fact remained that their stubborn, childish pride had made the whole affair far more complicated than it needed to be. Had they informed their respective siblings, or at the very least passed word along to Grayfia from the get go, Sirzechs could have put together a covert task force to assist Irina and Xenovia from behind the scenes whilst luring Kokabiel out into the open, thus putting the Church in their debt without risking the lives of the civilian populace or putting their own fledgling, inexperienced Peerages in harms way.

Such actions were not befitting of a 'King', never mind the respective heiresses to House Gremory and House Sitri. As the joint overseers of Kuoh City, both Sona and Rias had a duty to uphold the laws as laid down by the Four Satans, which included placing the overall safety of the human population above all else. If their failure to do so was a result of their inability to set aside their childish pride, then Sirzechs would have no choice but to strip them of their authority and call them both home.

Such harsh words from her normally supportive older brother had shaken Rias to her core, and from what little Issei had managed to get out of Saji, it was clear that while Sona hadn't been as personally hurt, the Lucifer's words had impacted her just as harshly, which only served to show how respected Sirzechs Lucifer was by the underworld community.

As bad as that all sounded, however, it wasn't all doom and gloom on the Kuoh front. For one thing, Kiba had been livelier than Issei had ever been before, the Damned Handsome actually smiling authentically instead of simply plastering on a fake smile for his fan-girls. He'd also begun to hang out with Issei and Saji more often, the three of them united by the common trend of being the only members of their respective Peerages to possess a Y-chromosome, and he even turned out to be pretty decent at karaoke so that was definitely a plus.

Another surprising upside was that, despite everything that had gone down since Spring-Term, the only faction that wasn't currently giving them a hard time were the Grigori. Setting aside Raynare's cell, who had apparently been acting on their own, even going so far as to disobey direct orders from Azazel and Shemhazai, you'd think the Fallen would be up in arms following the death of Kokabiel, but so far they hadn't sent so much as an angry postcard.

Actually, no, that wasn't strictly true, as Rias had apparently received a vintage anime-postcard, autographed by Go-Nagai himself, shortly after the battle from the Governor-General himself. From what little Issei had been able to make out, Azazel had apparently apologized for the whole affair and essentially reassured them that no attempts to avenge the Fallen Star of God would be authorized by him or Shemhazai.

As reassuring as the missive had been, the fact it had apparently been sent from within Kuoh City, and the fact he'd also assured them that Shirou was doing better, and would likely return to classes the following week, only served to solidify the fact that not only had the Governor-General of the Grigori been living right under their noses for a considerable amount of time, but that he apparently considered Shirou to be under his protection.

This, as you might imagine, presented a considerable problem. While Shirou had made it abundantly clear that he didn't view Rias & Sona's Peerages as enemies, the fact remained he was the first mortal in recorded history to actually slay a Fallen. While far from immortal, Fallen-Angels were still Divine Beings created by the Biblical God, so the odds of a mortal, Mage, Hero or what have you, actually managing to kill one was nigh impossible.

Add to the fact that Kokabiel was not only a veteran of the Great War, but one of the few beings capable of going toe-to-toe against the Super Devil Sirzechs Lucifer, and you could probably understand why Shirou's alignment with the Grigori was so worrisome. Things had been bad enough when the rumors of Divine Dividing's wielder allying with the Grigori were confirmed, that the Fallen had a Mage capable of slaying a Super Devil among them led to many a sleepless night for both heiresses.

Thankfully, as much as he'd like to alleviate his King's stress, preferably with a hot bath followed by a massage session, as a 'mere Pawn' Issei didn't have to worry about all that political stuff, or so Rias kept assuring him. And so, in order to keep from worrying her, he had thrown himself back into his old routine of accepting whatever requests he could in order to earn enough points to improve his ranking as a Devil.

It was slow going, primarily because he still couldn't use the damned teleportation circle without tagging along with someone else, but it certainly helped to take his mind off all that stressful shit…normally anyway.

"I see…that does sound worrisome." His client agreed, his eyes never leaving the screen before them, his posture decidedly calm even as he guided his digital racer around the track with practiced ease "And he hasn't contacted you?"

"Not so much as a text!" Issei seethed, cheering internally as he hit a new speed record for finishing the current lap "I mean, sure it's great he's alive and all but would it kill him to pick up the damned phone?"

His client merely chuckled, his eyes glinting with mirth as he casually directed his own racer to overtake the irate Pawn's, earning a squawk from Issei as he struggled to close the gap between them.

If Issei were forced to describe his most frequent customer in words, the first that would probably pop into his head was eccentric. Or at least that would be the case if he bothered to actually develop his vocabulary. As it were, the actual word he'd use to describe the man, if pressed to do so, would be 'weird'.

Oh, don't get him wrong, he was more than happy to accept the man's repeat patronage, every complete request counted towards his eventual dream of forming his own harem of beauties after all, but who in their right mind summons a devil simply because they wanted a drinking partner? Or to go fishing? Or to play outdated Famicom games for that matter?

Oh make no mistake he'd ended up playing loads of video games during his other requests, especially whenever he filled in for one of Koneko or Asia's, but those were typically because he couldn't really fulfill their client's original wishes, which strangely enough seemed to revolve mostly around cosplay (shudder) and so he'd been forced to settle for either marathoning anime series he normally wouldn't care for or playing video games until he could see the individual pixels in his sleep.

And just why was this Mid-20-something foreigner relying on a teenage Devil for company? Issei had absolutely no doubts as to his sexual preference but even he could tell that, unlike Kiba, who girls fawned over for his 'pretty boy' face and gentlemanly manner, his regular had the kind of 'rugged bad-boy' charm that could only be obtained from experience courting mature women. By all rights, if he wanted a drinking partner he could walk into any bar or hostess club and have his pick.

Oh well, it wasn't up to Issei to reason why. If the man valued his companionship that much then who was Issei to argue? Not only that, but the guy was apparently loaded to the gills despite never wearing anything other than a dusty old men's kimono, as evidenced by the fact he lived in one of the few actual western mansions in Kuoh City and often payed for Issei's services with expensive gifts in lieu of cash.

A prime example of this was the rare painting he received for his first job, which had ended with him keeping the man company as he drank. Rias had gotten the piece examined by a critic affiliated with her family in order to verify it's worth and ensure her 'precious subordinate' hadn't gotten shafted, so you could probably imagine the look on her face when it turned out he'd been paid with a missing masterpiece from the Louvre that had gone missing sometime during World War II.

To put it simply, the painting was worth more than Issei was likely to ever earn in his lifetime, both in terms of cash and in terms of value to the world of art, and the man had only continued to impress, his subsequent payments including rare jewels, precious tomes, and even gold nuggets! Seriously! How much wealth could one guy have that he just threw away lumps of pure gold like it was pocket change?!

As such, despite her earlier misgivings, Rias had officially encouraged her pawn to accept any and all requests from the man for the foreseeable future, especially given how he only ever seemed to request Issei, no matter which other members of her peerage were available. Hell, it had even gotten to the point where he'd requested Issei's phone number to bypass the summoning ritual altogether, though Rias had made certain that Issei got the man to stamp the satisfaction forms regardless.

Still, there was a limit to what even a high-value customer could get away with, and Issei swore if he had to go shopping for limited edition bread at the nearby store in the middle of the night again he was going to lodge a formal complaint. Low-ranked or not he was supposed to be a proud Devil, a member of Rias Gremory's Peerage, the current Red Dragon Emperor and the man who would become the undisputed Harem King! Not some God (OW!) Damned errand boy!

"I see, looks like you've had a rough time of things." His client mused, smiling enigmatically as his car proceeded to pass Issei's despite the pawn's attempts to cut him off "Well, that just means we've got to make up for the time we've missed, right?"

"You got it!" Issei grinned, the two of them sharing a laugh before turning their attention back to the race on screen "Still, I can't believe you called me out to play video games of all things."

"What can I say?" his client chuckled, his eyes never leaving the screen even as he somehow managed to manipulate his cart while stroking his goatee"Our trip to the arcade last session really got me hooked."

"I'll say…" Issei deadpanned, one eye roaming over the multitude of gaming consoles, both retro and cutting-edge, that took up the majority of the far wall. Hell, there was even a customized gaming computer off to the side, the tower looming over the rest of the room like a black obelisk "You don't do things by half, do you?"

"What can I say, I've always been something of an avid collector." The old man admitted with a wry smirk "Truth be told, I tend to get a bit fanatical whenever something catches my interest, it's actually a bad habit of mine."

'Huh…now that I think about it, didn't I hear something like that a while back?' Issei wondered, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he tried to place the memory 'Who were we talking about again…?"

"Ah, looks like I've got the gist of things now." His client mused, snapping the pawn out of his thoughts just long enough to see his racer passed by the older man's "You snooze you lose, Devil-Kun!"

"No way!" Issei yelped, the pawn's fingers a literal blur as he fought to reclaim the lead, only to slump in defeat as he watched his racer cross the finish line seconds behind his opponent's, his fledgling pride in his gaming skills plummeting as the words YOU ARE LOSE blazed across his half of the screen "My perfect win-streak…" he sobbed, "Dammit, how're you so good for a first-timer?"

"Don't take it too-hard, Devil-kun." The older man chuckled, patting the dispirited Pawn reassuringly on the back, his tone only half-teasing, as evident by the twinkle in his eyes "You can't win 'em all after all."

"Dammit! I demand a rematch!" Issei exclaimed, his pride as a gamer triggered by what he perceived as the older man's condescending tone. Client or no client, nobody looked down on the future Harem King and got away with it! "C'mon! Best two out of three!"

"You're a real sore loser, aren't you Devil-kun?" the man chuckled, clearly amused by the pawn's zeal "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, Vali was much the same way when I picked him up, and Lord only knows Shirou's too stubborn for his own good half the time…" his smile faded somewhat "or rather he would have known, if he'd lived long enough to meet him."

'He looks so sad…' Issei noted, the Gremory Pawn staring at his client in concern, his mind searching for something to say, only to screech to a halt as the older man's words fully registered in his brain 'Wait…what did he say just now?'

"Azazel-sama…" a familiar voice called out, snapping the teen out of his thoughts just in time for the door to open, his eyes bulging at the sight of a certain former exorcist in a French Maid outfit "Pardon the intrusion, but Shirou-sama has asked me to inform you that dinner is ready."

"X-Xenovia-san?!" Issei exclaimed, gaping at Irina's former partner in disbelief, and more than a little approval, for while it was hardly as revealing as her 'battle outfit', even a pervert like him could appreciate the charm of a Maid Uniform.

"Hmm? Ah, good evening, Hyoudo Issei-san." The former Battle Nun greeted politely, inclining her head in greeting with her hands clasped before her before turning her attention to his client "Will he be joining us for dinner, Azazel-sama?"

"Is it that late already?" his client mused, rolling up a sleeve on his kimono only to whistle at the time "I don't see why not, it's certainly late enough and I'm sure Shirou won't mind another mouth to fill." He smirked at the gaping pawn "What do you say, Red Dragon Emperor? Wanna join us for dinner?"

"You-I mean-she…what?!" Issei stammered, his brain, unable to process the sheer amount of information currently being dumped into it, slowly grinding to a halt even as his client rose to his feet with a dark chuckle.

"Oh, that reminds me, I never really introduced myself, did I?" he mused, chuckling at the Pawns look of alarm, which only intensified as twelve jet-black wings burst from his back, each individual feather like a bottomless abyss that seemed to draw in all the light around him "My name is Azazel, Governor General of the Grigori." He smirked cheekily "I know it's a lot to ask, but please make sure to keep an eye on Shirou-kun at school, would you?"


So yeah, not a lot of action this chapter, but hey, a slow start is better than no start.

As some of you might have noticed, I've left references to other series in this as both Easter-Eggs and to flesh some things out.

Reference 1: The Exorcist Castes from Blue Exorcist. I used these to flesh out Xenovia's backstory somewhat, though that doesn't necessarily mean characters from Blue Exorcist won't show up in some capacity later. Maybe. No Promises.

Reference 2:The Fist of God. This is a reference to the Dresden Files Character, Michael Carpenter, who is ironically enough not only the 'former' wielder of a 'True Holy Sword', his universe's equivalent to Excalibur no less, but also a direct descendant of King Charlemagne, who bestowed Durandal on Sir Roland.

Reference 3: Shirou's hair. This is a reference to his counterpart in Prisma-Illya, Miyu's older brother. While he currently lacks the brown patches of skin, he does have a shock of white in his hair now due to the backlash from Archer's Arm.

Reference 4: Urahara's Basement Training Room. I probably don't need to spell this one out, but for those of you who've never read or watched bleach, just imagine the room Kisuke trains Ichigo in, only without the ladder leading up to the ceiling because Magic (snort-snort).

As before, let me know what you think in a review!