The Last Dragon's royal audience hall was decorated once more with all the pomp and pride that could be summoned from all four corners of the supernatural realms. There were rich brass and silver ornaments from the underworld, wreaths and gold-wrapped candles from Heaven, rugs and chairs made from beasts that roamed the Nine Realms, priceless porcelain offered by the highest offices of the Celestial Court, sumptuous dishes and liquor from as far as Mesopotamia, Olympus, Egypt and Mesoamerica, and even some bizarre ornamentations from the isolated faerie courts and the shadow-gods of North America.
The Last Dragon sat at his throne, presently transformed into a humanoid form. He was no less imposing in this form. He wore a richly embroidered gown that glimmered like scales under the light. Wrapped around him like a thick coat was the sheer palpable presence of something alien and incomprehensible.
His bride sat near him at the couple's high table. She was also attired according to the present celebration—though underneath her robes and ornaments she seemed more like a tottering, top-heavy building about to fall over the edge than a blushing bride-to-be.
Neither the Last Dragon nor his bride had sent out invitations—the guests here practically invited themselves and their brethren to witness the ceremonies and feast heartily for a day. They would make merry and exchange gossip, catch up on old friends or spy on old enemies. And most of all, intrigue was ever afoot, and Akeno Himejima was well aware of the part she could have played here, had she not been married in the same way all those years ago.
She was her father's tool, and so by extension she was an agent of the Grigori—the organization composed of all the angels Fallen from grace. When her predecessor in the Dragon's harem had died, she was the perfect fit to replace her: a well-trained operative who could also be counted to be loyal to the cause. That last bit was important, as there were far too Fallen who'd struck out on some scheme or another, like the infamous Kokabiel. For Akeno, this would just be exchanging one mission for another, more long-term one.
Her current mission was still currently "on-hold": for neither had she been able to secure the title of leader of the harem, nor managed to entice the Last Dragon to be favorable solely to her. Yet given the open secret involving the fate of all who tried bearing the Dragon's children, she was secretly glad that her husband hadn't even looked at her once with lust.
Well, she was of two minds. She would have loved to be desired, and hopefully become the one to succeed where many failed. But death sounded quite troublesome, if she did fail.
Akeno spotted her father in the crowd, his large, muscled form silently following behind the boisterous leader of the Grigori, Azazel. She knew that such a display was a front—one would expect her father to be the adjutant that would secretly manage espionage while his superior mingled. But the opposite was true: Azazel was the one who directly engaged in sending and receiving coded messages from all he met, with Baraqiel mostly serving as "dumb muscle". That was not to say her father was dumb, but such high-level dealings were usually Lord Azazel's specialty.
They seemed to be heading her way. Akeno considered her options, then sipped her drink. Beside her, Rias Gremory, head of the Last Dragon's harem, was muttering nonstop under her breath.
"Unbelievable… To think they'd really stoop so low as to bring a human of all people…"
Rias was most likely referring to the new bride. She'd heard that this newest one was a genuine, 100% human. There was nothing strange about her heritage, strictly speaking.
Most of the magicians present in this hall were humans through and through, with only their magical might a testament to their inhuman qualities. And Akeno herself was a half-human, though her mother's line was intertwined enough with the supernatural that her human side was a small, insignificant sliver, barely to be mentioned. Really, the only objection Rias may truly have was the fact that there was yet another who had to endure the Last Dragon, someone else who would share this immense burden, to which she agreed wholeheartedly.
She said, "I wonder what sort of power she's got, that they would nominate her out of the blue."
There had already been quite a number of rumblings concerning the marriage before, mostly again centering on the surprise of the bride's mortal nature. Some rightly doubted that the woman could survive the strain of conception. Others balked simply at the mere prospect that a magic-less human, whose only notability was a mysterious ability, was ever considered as bride to the Last Dragon. In Akeno's opinion, she disliked most the notion of some poor dear joining them in their "slow death"—a notion coined by a fellow wife.
"Hmph." Rias' grunt was followed by, "It seems your leader's coming here to speak with you. I'll excuse myself for now, Akeno."
"My, you don't have to leave so soon, Rias," she said.
Her fellow wife shook her veiled head as she disappeared into the crowd. Just as she'd said, Azazel approached, arms wide, before taking her up in a hug. Ordinarily it was seen by others as just another one of the Fallen's odd quirks, but long-standing veterans knew nothing he ever did was not done without purpose.
"It is good to see you well, my dear," he greeted. The only thing she noticed was a faint touch at her back, near where bra clasp was. She made no outward reaction to it, and instead smiled brightly.
"Good day to you, sir Azazel. And to you, father."
"Akeno," her father said curtly, nodding.
"Why do you have to act so cold, man?" Azazel said, nudging the other Fallen in the ribs. "This is your daughter! You always said you missed her."
"Oh my, is that true, father? How sweet~" she said, with a chuckle.
A faint quirk of the lips told of her father's emotions. "Indeed. I have missed you, Akeno. Every day I pray for your continued safety."
"You know you can visit anytime, father," she said serenely. "You and anyone else. I asked my husband this, and he said he did not mind."
Her father coughed lightly. "Your husband is most generous. I will think of it. But then again, outside of today, we are quite busy." His and her eyes drifted to Azazel, who nodded to himself after watching the small interaction between father and daughter.
"I would invite you, but I know duty compels you, as wife, here. Perhaps we can talk later."
"I look forward to it," Akeno said, curtsying.
"Come, my friend," Azazel said, turning to her father. "Let us away and see if there are any untamed goddesses worth a tussle. If you will excuse us, my lady?"
"Do take care, my lords," Akeno said, seeing them off as they walked back into the feasting crowd.
She waited a few more moments, mingling with the crowd as she did so, before she had her maids excuse her to her rooms. After entering, she dismissed them, then sealed the room from all forms of entry and surveillance magics.
Then she took the slip of miniaturized clay that had been inserted into her bra strap and laid it on her palm. She examined it for a while, as a fit of nostalgia came over her. Such objects had been commonplace when she had been an agent of the Grigori. Slipping it into her bra was a very Azazel-thing to do, even though it was quite an old-fashioned method of transferring intel.
She swallowed the object, and closed her eyes.
"Nice to see your instincts haven't faded yet, Akeno." A virtual image bloomed before her, forming into the shape of her former boss, Azazel. The image had been superimposed upon her mind through the latent magic spell buried inside the object. When ingested, it triggered the recording buried within, like a video message beaming directly into her mind.
"I never thought I'd be receiving orders this late in the game," she responded. Even if it was a recording, Grigori spellmastery ensured that the recipient's queries could be answered without pause, leading to an unbroken flow of information, almost as if she were talking to the actual Azazel.
"You weren't, and we'd have honestly preferred it this way. But there are some things that are about to happen, and we thought it best to involve you. Mind, there was some debate about this, because you're already far too buried inside the Dragon's Palace. But I decided to trust you."
"You honor me…" Akeno said, cocking her head in confusion. "But if I may ask, what exactly do you mean?"
"Recently we have received certain intelligence that greatly concerns the compact that had been formed long ago around the Last Dragon. As the compact's representative from the Grigori, I naturally got wind of it sooner than others." Azazel's image sighed. "It's a big, hot mess, believe me. As it is, we're still trying to evaluate the situation without committing. And then I realized—well, we still had you on the inside. It's the same with some of the others: no doubt Rias Gremory's also received instructions from her family by now, on behalf of the Devils."
She didn't quite understand what Azazel was saying. But she could sense that he was being intentionally vague, as if he were expecting the recording to be intercepted.
"Then, what would you have me do?" Akeno asked.
"Let me ask you first," Azazel said. "What are the feelings you hold towards your husband?"
She blinked. Feelings? What sort of feelings were those? She held no love for the Last Dragon, nor did she hate him—or at least she only disliked having to be married in the first place. He had not abused her, nor done anything towards her; then again, he hadn't so much as acknowledged her in the first place—as if she and the others truly did not exist. The Last Dragon had been completely indifferent, and that had led to Akeno reciprocating in kind. It had gotten to the point that she had even succumbed to the depravity that marked nearly all the Fallen when that scandalous idea had circulated among the harem. And yet, despite her great sin, the Last Dragon didn't look at her any differently.
"Nothing." She answered after a while. "Nothing at all."
"That's… good, I think." Azazel looked sad. "My apologies for everything."
"I accepted my role with full awareness sir," Akeno said, huffing.
"Alright, alright, I appreciate that. Really, I do. We all do. Okay, so here's the gist of it:" Then he told her.
At the end of it, Akeno was hard-pressed to wipe the shocked, wide-eyed look from her face.
The revelries were to continue for at least a few more hours, but the Last Dragon and his new bride were set to retire to the royal chambers. Ostensibly, this was to allow husband and wife to consummate their marriage on the marital bed. As Akeno watched the harem attendants guide the newest wife down the halls toward the palace's central area, she couldn't help but think back on her own experience as the wife presumptive.
She had felt very much anxious then, as the attendants had led her down unfamiliar halls. The braziers on the walls had been of little comfort, as they seemed as foreboding in their illumination. She didn't know what lay beyond the doors to the royal chambers—she had yet to glean the truth about the situation. She had been very much a blushing maiden, fearful and innocent and unaware.
Whatever the mortal was feeling now, she could definitely sympathize. She would sound it out later, when the harem formally met the new wife. Well, that also depended on the outcome of tonight. Would the Last Dragon ignore the mortal, as he had done to a number of wives before? Or would this mortal finally be the one to break the drought?
And if so, would she even survive?
Irina Shidou, her fellow wife, sidled up to Akeno's side. She was Heaven's representative: a relatively young Angel newly ascended to the Great Host. "They tried to hide it, but I witnessed Astaroth talking to the mortal," she whispered. "I'd lay odds he's the one—or whatever group he's with—who pressed for this marriage."
"So it was the Devils who suggested it, you think?" Akeno murmured back, glancing towards Rias.
"More than likely. However, there're some anomalies." A long silence followed. Akeno turned her head, and saw that the Angel had abruptly left as she had arrived.
"My my, that was certainly rude." The Angel was relatively simple and straightforward to read, but Akeno nonetheless kept her guard up. Still, Rias seemed to rely on her as much as she did herself or Rossweisse, which meant that the harem leader trusted her somewhat. At the thought of Rias, Akeno's musings returned to the new wife, who may or may not have been forced here by Devil intrigue.
Rias had been most upset when the news had arrived, which meant that even her family had not informed her. Given the status afforded to the one whose family had offered a woman to the Last Dragon, Akeno suspected the Gremory clan might not have been aware either. And since the Gremory clan ostensibly had the Underworld's official backing, this suggested a separate faction.
This, combined with the news that Azazel had given her, now sent Akeno's mind in a whirling, confused mess. Things were slowly moving forward, and gaining speed.
"Oh dear, I can't keep track of all these facades…" she complained to herself quietly.
That decided it. She was definitely going to see Issei tonight.
The Palace's Central Spire was his and only refuge. Towering far above the rest of the palace structure, its winding steps were filled with treacherous traps and constructs that had been placed there by every supernatural court. He had been born at the very top of the spire, unfurling his wings and uttering his first roar as he woke to his presumptive cage.
When he could learn to shapeshift, another room was built next to it—the royal chambers where he was supposed to sleep with his wife or any woman he "fancied". A long time ago, there had been many who had shared his warmth there, but now…
In his draconic form he could navigate through the treacherous upward path with ease. His wives and any other special visitors had to use a special path that only he could reveal—an "elevator" of sorts that brought them straight to his smaller room.
He could sense his new bride already ascending within that path. She smelled so scared, unlike the others, which had instantly spoiled his mood, not that it had been pleasant at the start. He didn't know what the old ones were scheming, and he didn't much care. He just wished they would stop; for all their sakes, but as long as they held the keys, he had to do whatever they wanted.
Ordinarily he would have waited in the "bathroom", until his new wife arrived. She would have already been informed to prepare herself on the bed, like she were a new present ready for him to be unwrapped. His younger self had been intrigued by such a comparison—even viewing his earlier wives as such—ah, but there he went, dredging up painful memories. He shook his head.
No, she could wait on the bed for as long as she wished. He wouldn't care if she didn't even do that. He was sure the Gremory would see to educating her about this place, along with the rest of his harem.
He went out into his other, bigger chamber, large enough to fit his draconic frame. He would much prefer to slumber here, and dream.
For lately his dreams had been much more colorful and wonderful than his reality. The magician was a master of her craft. What use had he of this cage?
He closed his eyes.
Apocrypha version (mature content) below
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