Part 8

Luzrov Rulay.

Mikleo startled awake, twitching and curling deeper into whatever blanket he was under. His true name. Sorey had said his true name, reached out and they had…

Images flooded his head: endless darkness, the weight of silence, the heavy presence of someone being with him but not answering. Sorey's sleep with Phi, it had somehow flooded into his mind. The slow brightening of the space, Phi finally replying to him, the two of them sharing blurry stories. Mikleo held his head, trying to sort through it all, wondering if Sorey's morning headaches were always like this. He tried to curl into himself, but there was a body next to him, and even stuck in his head as he was he knew it was his partner, and he nuzzled in closer, finding the crook of a neck and pressing his forehead there. An arm slid over his hip and climbed up his back, reaching up to touch his hair. Sorey gave a soft, pained moan, and Mikleo's head throbbed in perfect unison. He moaned, too, but Sorey was warm, and that let him drift.

His next clear memory was looking at green eyes in dim light, Sorey watching him as he always seemed to do.

"... how did we do that?" his partner asked. "I'm a seraph now…"

Mikleo felt his cheeks color. "I think… I think it's because… Sorey, I never closed our contract."

Sorey's eyes widened, a hundred thoughts flooding through his face. "You didn't…?"

Mikleo shook his head, looking down at Sorey's collarbone. His scarf was missing. "I… I knew you would be back," he said. "I thought it would be as a human, so I never…"

It had been a part of him so long he had forgotten about it, forgotten about the small part of himself that drifted off to Sorey, the link of their contract. He had stopped noticing it, stopped tracing it and mourning that it was taking so long, that he missed his partner so much. What once had been a promise slowly soured to a source of shame, something he knew he was supposed to close but never able to actually do it. And, over time, as the years wore on and he finally started to heal, it was just… a part of him.

"Did you… did you see…?"

"Your memories? Yes. Did you?"

Sorey pulled him close, squeezing around his shoulders. Mikleo tried to pull away - they had already had this conversation, and already resolved and reaffirmed each other, but Sorey always loved giving reminders, and he nuzzled closer to Mikleo, hand somewhere running through his hair. In the end he gave in, always grateful for Sorey's tactile gestures. He shifted, giving himself enough height to press his forehead to Sorey's, and both of them sighed at the comfort of the contact. Mikleo traced the bond for the first time in years, centuries, feeling it trace out and connect to Sorey instead of empty space, and so many things in his very soul eased. He wondered if Sorey was doing the same, and was surprised to sense something reaching out to him.

"I guess we really are partners, now."

"In all things."

They smiled, and Mikleo wondered if this was something they could always do, or if it was specifically because Sorey was a seraph now.

"Hey, you two up now?"

The invasion of privacy set Mikleo's face on fire and he sputtered, pulling childishly at the blanket to pull over his head. He caught Sorey smile fondly before feeling him sit up as Mikleo struggled to get himself back together.

"... you don't have any malevolence, now."

Right, the hellion…!

Mikleo sat up as well, ignoring whatever his appearance might be to glare at Rangetsu Rokurou. The hellion.

"Nope," the hellion said smoothly. "No malevolence now, the fight's over. Great trick, by the way. Never saw two malakhim armatize - didn't even know that was possible. How long have you guys been able to do that?"

Sorey didn't say anything, and Mikleo refused to give this creature even an inch. How could Zaveid associate with a hellion? How could he even recommend a hellion as a means to free Phi's beloved friend Velvet? Mikleo kept his hand open, ready to summon his spear at any moment.

Sorey, perhaps of course, was by contrast perfectly neutral. "I want to understand," he said softly, gently. "Every hellion we've come across, they attack blindly. The few that haven't-"

"First off," the hellion said, tone relaxed but flat. "Don't insult me by calling me a hellion. I don't wanna brag but those babies are nothing compared to me. And you don't honestly expect me to believe that every single demon you came across had lost their minds to the very last."

"No," Sorey said, looking down. "Not all of them. But the ones who still knew who they were… they were so consumed by malevolence… by the time we purified them… there was nothing left. Like Heldaff…"

The hellion nodded in acknowledgement, leaning back and looking up. "Weaklings, then, the lot of them," he said. "Look, I'm not the brightest - you can ask Laphicet and he'll tell you - but I do know some things. I've come to think that malevolence itself isn't actually the thing that makes daemons like us."

"What?" Sorey balked, head snapping up. Mikleo shifted his weight, ready for some kind of lie or misdirect.

"Oh, don't get me wrong," the hellion said. "Malevolence is what turns us to daemons, but it's not the thing that makes us. See," he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Mikleo stiffened, expecting an attack, but none came. The hellion caught his eye for a moment but continued without comment. "Here's the thing - malevolence needs something to attach on to, right, a thing to eat in order to consume a guy like me. I wanted to kill my brother so bad I couldn't stand it, and even when I was given the order to kill him and he humiliated me for it, even when I tried to end myself, I still wanted to kill him. It was my desire to kill Shigure that fed the malevolence to turn me. You with me so far?"

"... yes," Sorey said, and Mikleo could tell his mind was open, willing to follow the thread of logic. That, and only that, kept Mikleo engaged.

"Malevolence feeds off of negative emotions - that's what every shepherd ever said. And, yeah, they're not wrong, but they're not right either. It's not the negative emotions that are the problem - because everyone has negative emotions. Everyone gets mad or sad or frustrated or jealous, everyone has envy or pride or wrath inside of them. So then how come everyone hasn't succumbed to the malevolence?"

"What are you suggesting?" Sorey asked.

"That it's not the malevolence that makes us daemons, it's our inability to deal with them."

Mikleo hadn't been expecting to hear such a sentence, and his eyes widened in perfect time with Sorey who did the same, their entire worldviews recontextualized in one simple sentence.

"My hatred of my brother died when I died," the hellion said, still talking. "I didn't bear him any ill will, even when I was killed. That wasn't what turned me, it was my intense desire to beat him one more time, to prove to him, to myself, to each other, that I was his equal. I couldn't let that go; I didn't want to let that go, and that's what made me turn. On the flip side, how many people have gone through hell and back, had their homes and lives destroyed, families ripped apart and been stepped on their entire lives?"

Sorey… Camlaan… Symmone…

Mikleo looked away, and so did his partner.

"But they don't succumb to malevolence. Why? Are they really any more pious than the next guy? Or do they know how to cope with and reconcile those feelings?"

"So then… what you're saying…" Sorey's voice was shaking with revelation, eyes downcast as he tried to process it, "is that hellions, daemons, they become what they are because they don't know how to handle negative emotions?"

"Yeah," the hellion said, nodding. His voice was remarkably soft, thoughtful. He reached over and poured himself a cup of that foul alcohol, downing it in one gulp before pouring another. "That's what I've come to believe."

Mikleo could see how affected Sorey was by the line of his shoulders and the angle of his head. He wanted to reach out and say something, but he didn't know what to say. If the hellion was right… He shook his head. This was a hellion, there was no way he was telling the truth. He lifted his glare, projecting his distrust, and the hellion looked at him again.

"Kid," the hellion said, matter of fact. "Unless you really want to go another round, you should probably stop your killing intent. It's tickling my daemon senses."

Mikleo stiffened, and quickly looked down. He had no interest in another fight…

Sorey spared him a glance, face full of compassion, before turning back to the hellion. "Rangetsu," he said, "How did you come to this conclusion?"

"Because Laphicet tried to purify me."

"What?"

The hellion nodded. "When we finally got back from Artorius' throne, he had ascended to a dragon and cast his domain, and a whole lot of daemons were purified of malevolence. I felt it. And you can tell me, Shepherd Malak, how does purification start?"

Sorey frowned. "I… I don't know what you mean. It was a blessing from Lailah and…"

"... it starts with empathy," Mikleo said, still looking down. "When the hellion is stunned or defeated, you offer it empathy, that creates a connection and then you can purify it."

"Wait, so then every hellion we ever faced, Lailah…"

"Not just Lailah," Mikleo said, meeting his partner's eyes. "You offered it, too. Especially you. Instinctually, naturally, without thought. And not just to hellions. To seraph. To humans. To everyone." Mikleo saw the memory of Sorey, calmly walking to a defeated lion, sword in hand, and offering solace. "Even to Heldaff."

"... oh…"

A natural pause drew out, Sorey's eyes wide as he realized something about himself that he never knew, something that came to him so naturally it never even occurred to him that others would have to work at it. Mikleo didn't want to do much with the hellion there, but he tried to convey his feelings through his eyes, to give Sorey what he needed. Sorey finally looked down, and Mikleo turned his gaze back to the hellion.

"You say Maotelus, Phi, tried to purify you?"

"Happened automatically when he cast his domain," he replied. "Felt all the empathy in the world, the same empathy that brought Velvet out of her spiral. But I told him no. I was happy with what I was. And he said okay."

"And… are you still happy with that decision?" Sorey asked. "To stay a daemon for so many centuries, to need malevolence, to…"

"Oh, it's not that bad," the hellion said, waving a hand with an easy smile. "I get to do what I want: train, test myself, enjoy a good fight once in a while, and be stronger as a fighter. I've got a great life," he said leaning back, putting his hands behind his head. "As for the malevolence, well, like I said. I was able to face and defeat my brother, my desires were met. All that's left is the trade off for being a yaksha."

"A… a what?"

"I don't think I've ever heard of that kind of hellion."

"Really? Huh." The hellion rubbed his chin. "Guess I'm one of a kind then!" he smiled, his grin always just a little feral, and he leaned forward. "A yaksha is a war daemon," he explained, "If therions are based on hunger and beasts are based on aggression and so on, yaksha are based on battle, war, the need for power. That's why when a good fight starts I can get a little carried away." He shrugged his shoulders. "Small price to pay for living my best life."

Silence fell over them again, Mikleo and Sorey with so many things to think about.

"Well, anyway," the hellio… Rangetsu said, "you two never did mention why you'd come here. All you said was that you had a request from Laphicet."

"Because you attacked us," Mikleo groused.

Rangetsu actually chuckled. "Yeah, that was kinda on me."

"I've been asleep with Phi," Sorey said, "For a long time. I let him use me as a vessel to purify him. To make that work I had to shut down all my senses, go into a kind of sleep. As Phi got better… we started to talk. We shared a lot of stories. When he finally released me, he had a request. 'It's past time Velvet was free,' he said. I was really groggy when I woke up. I had a lot of morning headaches, and even now I don't completely understand who Velvet is, but I know she's a dear friend, and that she sacrificed herself. I get the impression that now… Phi has an idea on how she can be freed."

Rangetsu stared at them for a long time, holding his cup of sake, face neutral, shrewd.

"... Rokurou," he said.

"Sorry?"

"Call me Rokurou," he repeated. "If Laphicet is okay with you calling him Phi, then you can call my Rokurou. No need for formalities here."

"Okay," Sorey said.

"Did Laphicet talk about Velvet?"

"... yes," Sorey said, frowning, "but… my time asleep, even now, it's a little… muddled. I know you all traveled together, and you all had different goals, but you stuck together in spite of everyone telling you you couldn't. And… Velvet was hurting for a long, long time. And there was someone who hurt…" he reached up and clutched his heart, under his white scarf, "someone who hurt a lot of people."

"That's the broad strokes," Rangetsu said. "There were six of us: me, Velvet, Laphicet, Eizen, Eleanor, and Magilou. And Bienfu, if you ever wanted to count the little normin. Velvet and I were daemons, Eizen and Laphicet were malakhim, Eleanor was an exorcist, and Magilou was a witch. We were all outcasts of some kind, but if we're talking about Velvet, well. Artorius had a special kind of relationship with her."

"Artorius…" Mikleo said. "We've heard that name before…"

"He was the very first Shepherd," Sorey replied.

"No," Rangetsu said, gold eye intense. "He's the first Shepherd of this modern era. There were Shepherds before him. He just aligned himself very publicly, experimented on malakhim, and caused a great deal of harm in his singular pursuit to control the world."

Sorey and Mikleo balked.

"But, but history books dating back hundreds of years!" Mikleo said. "He was the Shepherd that was so strong that the world could see both seraphim and hellions alike! He was the Shepherd who united Glenwood, who-"

"Who had a king to print whatever he said," Rangetsu cut him off. "He had enough charisma for people to follow him, enough political sense to know who to get on his side, enough knowledge of artes to force malakhim into armatization against their will, and a cold, calculating will to try and create his own god to subjugate the people."

"Innominat…" Sorey rubbed at his temples, forestalling a morning headache.

"Yes," Rangetsu said with a nod, downing his cup and pouring another. "His first try made malakhim and daemons visible to humans. It also made Velvet a therion. For three years she was kept in a prison, just like the one in those ruins back there. She and other therions were held there and forced to eat other daemons as seals to lock away malevolence. Then, when the time was right, all that stored up malevolence would be used to summon Innominat. Armatized with a god, Artorious would cast a domain that would eliminate all malevolence from all of humanity - and rob everyone of their free will in the process. That's the tale of the First Shepherd, that was what the goal of armatization was supposed to be."

Sorey was shaking, eyes wide and face flushed. Mikleo caught the signs just in time, reaching over and grabbing the ends of his scarf out of the way as his partner turned to the side and started coughing, hacking up an empty stomach as he realized just what the title of shepherd - something he wore so proudly - actually meant. He clutched his temples, trembling, and Mikleo wrapped an arm around his shoulders as the sickness overtook him. Rangetsu looked away, shifting and turning his back to give them some privacy.

Mikleo stayed quiet, letting his presence be enough, pressing his face into Sorey's shoulder, riding out the waves of sickness and the shudders of tears. When the storm had passed, when he sensed Sorey was maybe back to himself, Mikleo shifted, moving closer to his partner's ear: "It wasn't you. Whatever the role of the Shepherd started out as, you always decided to make it your own - none of us would have followed you otherwise. You can't take on the responsibility of someone from hundreds of years ago."

"I know…" Sorey said, his voice rough. "I know… but still… how many people, how many seraph - how many daemons suffered under a Shepherd like him?"

"... I'll give you some time to work through that," Rangetsu said, grunting as he stood. "I have to go out and apologize to the villagers anyway. Hey," he added, turning to give them his full gaze. "For what it's worth, it's pretty obvious you're no Artorius."

Rokurou gave his two visitors time to process. It was a lot to take in. It had been a lot to take in, the tragedy of Velvet, Laphicet, and Artorius. He still remembered being stuck within the belly of Innominat and watching as historia after historia was brought up to torture Velvet as she spiraled into insanity. He hadn't even explained Velvet's story yet, just what Artorius had planned and how he had created the armatus to do so. Those two malakhim were going to need a lot of sake to work through everything else.

Which was something he could provide. His last stores for the winter had arrived. If he was more sparing with it, he could probably help those two malakhim drink through the worst of what he'd likely have to explain.

The sun was up, though one had to peak over the mountains to see it this time of year. It was just cresting the ridge and would likely rise by the tiniest bit more before once more sinking into the long nights that winter would bring. Rokurou would normally spend his winters back in the ruins, checking on that malevolent cage where Medissa had been held and the echoing guilt she bore and the violent confrontation with Velvet's rage and the tiny little hellions it had produced. When he'd first come to Merchio almost twenty years ago, there was a decent hellion that was nearing a century old he'd fought. It had been a good exercise, and a precursor to some of the daemons that had been growing over the last few centuries since his last visit.

But that well was drying up for a challenge. Rokurou thought he'd spend one more winter here before heading out to another place of malevolence that had been left alone. A crucible, or maybe stop off at Hexen Isle to see if Silver still bore enough malevolence to spawn hellions. He'd planned to make his respects to the poor Malakhim who never even had the chance to live and grow.

Those two little malakhim, however…

Rokurou let a terrifying grin cross his face. His winter would have a lot of challenge.

But he let that go for now.

"Ah, Ichigo, is that you?" called out an old bent woman, one of the village elders Rokurou liked to visit. She reminded him of his own grandmother, if far more kind.

"Granny," he greeted. "How are the nets?"

"Quite full. My grandson is hauling them in now. Tell me, did you see the strange weather last night?"

Rokurou grimaced. "Ah, I may have had too much sake. Did something happen?"

"Oh, ho, nothing to worry about now, dearie, just that we had some thunder last night."

"Oh, really?"

"The damndest thing," she chuckled. "I hear that those southern continents love their thunder and I even visited Vortigem once. I never want to be where such sounds echo through a body like that again. No one here believed me when I told them about thunder. They all came running to me last night."

"I probably would have as well," Rokurou said. "Except I had too much to drink and then all that snow from the blizzard collapsed my roof."

"Oh dearie! We can't have that!"

"I know we're all prepping for winter, but are there any supplies? I need to reinforce what I have before the longnight arrives."

"Of course! Come along dearie. The children have been asking about you. They want more training."

Rokurou let himself be led through the village to get what he needed. Most of the villagers just knew him as the nut who lived on the outskirts and kept to himself. If he ever found good meat, he always made sure to bring it in and he just used the truth on why he was here. He was training himself. Most saw the swords on his back and didn't question it. He bothered no one and brought in for the community. Just another face that wandered in and out from the ice. The children, however, saw those swords and asked questions, and he would take them through some very beginner basics. Just enough to know how to take a hit and not get injured when falling.

"I'll make sure to stop by midwinter," he said as he loaded his supplies. "If you're running low on anything in particular, let me know and I'll go out hunting."

"That's unusual, dearie, you giving us a time to expect you."

"This is unusual, me needing supplies like this."

"Well, make sure you stop by my home first, and I'll cook you up something special for the solstice."

"Sure thing, Granny."

And Rokurou would. He had to apologize somehow for what had happened. And what might happen over the winter with those two here.

The supply run took a few hours to set it all up on the sleigh, and Rokurou dragged it himself, all part of his training. Unsurprisingly, it was dark when he set out and the stars were his guide as he walked across the ice fields to his home near the base of the mountains, a short walk from the ruins for when he trained. It had been an old lookout from when the smugglers tried to expand, and one that Rokurou found suited him and his loner tendencies. He could train more readily without prying eyes.

Of course, his impromptu challenge with those two malakhim had done damage that he would drag them into helping him fix.

Rokurou set his supplies by the door and walked in, climbing up the stairs to the topmost floor where he had left the two struggling malakhim.

Shepherd Malakhim was out, buried in a blanket, curled to his side, and looking more human than malak. The other malakhim was sitting by his side, staring at the destroyed roof, looking protective and writing in a journal.

"You're back," the sour one said softly.

"You two needed time."

"... Thank you." He set aside his journal. "We both have many questions."

"Ask away," Rokurou said, going to a collapsed cabinet and pulling out an unbroken jug of sake. "The people who hear what happened usually deny it. It's a nice change of pace to have someone actually want to know."

"We will. Once Sorey wakes up."

Rokurou tilted his head, offering more sake. The sour malakhim politely declined.

"Sorey. That's not the ancient tongue."

"It's his name. It's what he was known by when he was human."

"Hn. And your name again?"

The frown deepened into a pout and a barely contained growl of frustration. "Mikleo."

Rokurou nodded. "Well, Mikleo, what's your story?"

"My story?"

"Well, if we're going to wait for Shepherd Malak here-" Mikleo scowled at him, "-if we're going to wait for Sorey to wake up, might as well pass the time by sharing stories. What's yours?"

"Complicated," was the flat response. Then his shoulders sank. "I know you're needed to help free this Velvet person, but… Knowing you're a helli… daemon is just…"

"You're on edge."

A clenching of teeth and a ground out, "...yes."

Rokurou nodded, sipping his sake. "That makes sense. You were probably raised to say that we're natural enemies. That malakhim are offshoots of purity while daemons are corruption and sins."

"... something like that. Gramps…" Mikleo stared at the fire. "He said what was written isn't always accurate and that one needed to sometimes determine things for oneself. He… I thought he meant about humans. I thought he meant about… other things."

"Not things about your nature?"

"I studied so much. About humans, about seraph, about the Celestial Record, about water and my artes." He turned to glance at the Shepherd Malak. "I knew when Sorey left, that I would have to know as much as I could about humans. About how humans and seraphim worked. About how one could influence the other. I studied and studied and studied."

"Kinda throws you for a loop when you learn you were wrong." Rokurou looked to his sake, remembering Velvet, the historia, and the moment she realized what her brother had suggested and agreed to. "It hurts." He remembered when he learned his family had set out to kill him.

Mikleo took a breath, a hand still absently on the Shepherd's shoulder, lightly rubbing. "Misconceptions are a common aspect of society and history," he said. "We can study artifacts, temples, ruins, but everything we learn is still a guess and supposition based on what's in front of us. One can't understand something until one is willing to listen to what is. Humans who can hear seraph don't always understand what seraph are saying."

"Humans and malakhim are very different," Rokurou said quietly. "So are daemons. I remember being human, but I'm not really human anymore. I can't quite relate to humans the way I used to."

"And humans don't quite relate to seraphim… malakhim because they don't understand how long we live or how sensitive we are to malevolence."

There was quiet for a moment.

Mikleo continued. "True learning can be very painful. But confronting one's own ignorance is the only way one can improve. I…" He shook his head. "What you said matches up with what Zaveid has mentioned. About Exorcists and the start of the Age of Calamity. You were there. I can see no reason for you to lie. I…" His face scrunched before, finally, looking to Rokurou in the eye. "I will listen. I will learn this painful truth." Then he gave a short, bark of a laugh. "It won't be the first time I've been confronted with something that changes everything I've ever known."

"Hn." Rokurou set his cup down and leaned back. "Well, then you must be much stronger and more flexible than I thought. I've seen people break under the weight of their world shifting. I've seen them succumb to malevolence or watched their minds shatter. Most people who come looking for me, they're after pure strength. Strength isn't worth a damn thing without flexibility." He leaned forward. "I like you, Mikleo. You're not what I thought. It's going to be a pleasure to train you two."

Mikleo sputtered.

"Train us?"

Sorey was flat on his back on the ice, panting heavily, and utterly exhausted.

It had been a month. The yaksha daemon had stated, flat out, that they wouldn't be able to return to Glenwood until the spring broke up the ports and that if they were going to be stuck here for the longnight, they might as well get some training.

"No matter what Laphicet plans, we'll have to deal with Innominat, which means you two need to be at peak condition."

"We are at peak condition," Mikleo had grumbled.

"Not even close."

Groaning, Sorey slowly rolled over to his side and somehow got enough leverage to crawl into a seated position.

During the course of that month, Rokurou had insisted on fighting each of them individually, to get them up to standard, and then he had a little grin that just indicated that this was just a warmup to something worse.

Mikleo came over, gently placing a hand on Sorey's back, and cast his healing artes, which was good because Sorey didn't think he had enough in him to do something similar.

Also during that month, Rokurou answered all of their questions and it was a lot to process.

Innominat was the Fifth Empyrean, the one to balance the other Empyreans, and had been awakened by Shepherd Artorius. Specifically, had been awakened to feed off of human feelings to enforce a "peace" where there was no free will. A god that ate greed, hate, despair, lust, but also love, joy, and hope, all the positives that sometimes brought out the negatives. A world of "reason". But because both Velvet and Phi were technically a part of Innominat, Velvet had sealed Innominat away and Phi had taken Innominat's place.

Sorey stood shakily, and took a deep breath. Rokurou stood across the ice, not even looking the least bit winded.

In some ways the training was easier to deal with, because the hidden histories that Sorey and Mikleo were learning were horrifying. After everything Sorey had read in the Celestial Record, after all the research he'd done in the various libraries of every town and village they'd visited whenever he had the chance, Shepherds were meant to be… gentle. There was a reason they were called "Gentle Shepherd". Shepherds listened to the seraphim and passed on their words. The Shepherd found hellions who spread malevolence and purified them. But one Shepherd had apparently fallen off the deep end worse than Shepherd Michael and Sorey was still processing everything that had happened from that. It was all so much!

Sorey held up his sword, but his arms were still shaking.

"That's enough for today," Rokurou said, stepping over and lightly steadying Sorey's hands. "Your body can't take any more."

Well, Sorey didn't mind collapsing. Mikleo caught him.

"You're working him too hard," Mikleo grunted. "He hasn't even been a seraph for a year, and he already has a larger variety of artes that most seraphim do after a century."

Rokurou smiled pleasantly. "Oh, he's made progress. Fantastic progress." He crouched down, studying Sorey. "You can tell he was fighting constantly once he became the Shepherd, and his work with his malakhim was something he cared about. There's at least some instinct on connecting with different elemental artes. But he doesn't have that instinct for his own artes and that's only achieved through battle."

Mikleo scowled. Gel already out and being massaged into Sorey's shoulders. Ahhh, that felt good.

"No, connecting with artes is through being with them," Mikleo said firmly. "I started to improve with water once Gramps dumped me in our reservoir and wouldn't let me out of it until I could start doing artes. Sorey connects to lightning. There isn't lightning up here, just blizzards and ice."

Sorey rather felt he needed to say something in this conversation, but he could barely put his thoughts together.

"Hm." Rokurou was looking at Sorey thoughtfully. "But aren't all elements everywhere?"

"In different proportions. Being in a desert is difficult for me, and being on an ocean is hard for an earth seraphim." Mikleo pulled off Sorey's boots and started rubbing some of the gel into his feet. Oooh, he didn't realize how sore his feet were.

"Huh. I never thought about it that way."

Sorey grunted. "I think you only think of things in fights."

Rokurou chuckled. "Yeah, that's true. I'm most alive in fights and training. I find answers to questions in fights. I'm just a combative guy."

Sorey took a deep breath and steadied himself. "The fighting is helping, but I just can't smell the lightning here the way I could back on Glenwood."

Rokurou shrugged. "Well, Mikleo, it seems we're both right."

Mikleo glowered.

"Even if you can't quite reach the lightning up here, Sorey, your practice now will make it easier once we're back in Glenwood." Rokurou sood, offering a hand. Sorey stuffed his boots back on and took the help up. "Whatever Laphicet is planning, we're going to have to face Innominat. Velvet might be able to help, but I doubt she'll be able to give any kind of killing blow."

"Oh?" Sorey asked. Once on his feet, they started to cross the ice glacier to head back to Rokurou's home. "Is Velvet okay?"

"Oh. I haven't told you much about her have I?"

"No, just Innominat and getting strong enough and flexible enough to face him," Mikleo replied.

Rokurou's face, normally calm and peaceful when not in a fight, went serious. "Oh, that's a story. And it's another layer of cruelty from that bastard Artorius." Rokurou looked directly to Sorey. "Can you handle that Shepherd?"

Sorey paused. There had been many revelations over the past month. Things that had shifted their views of history, of what that title of "Shepherd" had meant. Of what a Shepherd could do, beyond even what Michael had done to Mikleo and Heldalff. It was a great deal to absorb. And process.

Crossing his arms, Sorey looked up to the stars and the perpetual night they were in for the next few months. "I've been thinking. A Shepherd is just a title. It's the person who determines what that title means. Other people may put burdens on a Shepherd, but it is the Shepherd who determines what to do with those burdens. A Shepherd who must navigate between seraphim and humanity." He looked to Mikleo. "History is littered with terrible figures, figures who did irreparable harm, figures who devastated and pillaged, and destroyed. Some of them may have been Shepherds. But… When we look at what Shepherds are now? What they culturally do?"

Sorey smiled, turning to Rokurou. "Shepherds are still people. But Shepherds now are not alone. Shepherds are a family across Glenwood. Across the world. A family of both humans and seraphim, so that they are no longer alone. Artorius left a legacy that was completely counter to what he wished. He wanted to subjugate, and instead we cooperate. He created the armatus to control, we use it to free ourselves and others. I can listen to what Artorius did and know that we no longer do that. That we no longer fall to such horrors. Because we have more support."

Sorey reached out and nudged Rokurou. "We cope."

The daemon tossed his head back and laughed. "Cope. Yeah, we all cope with our malevolence, our selfish desires and wishes. And you're going to have to cope with your world being twisted around again."

"All that being said," Sorey reached up to rub the back of his head. "Can we just, save it for tomorrow? I'm really beat."

Still chuckling, Rokurou nodded. "Yeah, you and Mikleo could use a break. We'll break your brains tomorrow instead."

Mikleo shuddered. Still, Sorey happily took the chance to just collapse when they got back.

Rokurou watched the two malakhim carefully as he explained Velvet's story. It wasn't a happy story. They already had some idea of Artorius's part of the story, as well as Innominat. But there were layers that he'd been avoiding because for these two idealists, it was a lot to take in. On occasion, over the centuries, Rokurou had been visited by Shepherds. Most just saw him as a hellion to quell, and he just sent them on their way. Twice a Shepherd had realized his age and asked questions of the past. Neither had stuck through it the way these two were.

Often, people didn't like having uncomfortable truths told to them. People enjoyed staying in their ignorance because they didn't have to question their own beliefs or actions. Hearing uncomfortable truths took openness, self-reflection, and a willingness to change.

These two…

They listened.

"So, Velvet and her brother lived with their sister Celica, who had married Artorius?"

"But, what's this Red Moon, I haven't seen one ever in centuries, and there hasn't been any records of one. Not in the Celestial Record, not in the libraries of Marlind, or Ladylake or Pendra."

"But not only was there a Red Moon, but several in rapid succession. This couldn't have been an actual astronomical effect, could it?"

"Too unpredictable. No, there must be another root cause."

They were also a pair of complete history geeks.

The level of detail the pair of them wanted wasn't anything that Rokurou could provide. His thing was always the fights. Learning what led up to them to better understand his opponent was one thing, but theorizing on why a moon went red? Nope. It was kinda amusing. Bizarre. But amusing.

He also suspected that by focusing on some of those smaller details, it allowed them to process the tragedy in smaller bits. Then,

"Her brother asked to be sacrificed?" Sorey shouted.

Mikleo was wide-eyed, color draining as the revelation played out in his brain. Then, without a word, he got up and left out into the blizzard.

"Mikleo!"

"Sorey," Rokurou halted the Shepherd Malak. "I've seen that sort of look before. He needs to be alone for a bit. He's a malakhim. He won't freeze in the blizzard, and he's a water malak on top of all that. There's no danger for him out there."

"But," Sorey pulled. "You don't understand. You don't know!"

"There's a lot I don't know, but that look? I know that look."

Sorey wrested his arm away, looking at Rokurou with real anger flashing in his eyes, enough that Rokurou blinked, surprised to see anything like it in such a gentle Shepherd. "You just spoke of a nephew being sacrificed!" Sorey shouted. "This is the last type of situation for Mikleo to be alone." And he chased after his partner into the blizzard.

Rokurou put a hand to his hip, and rubbed at his chin. "Huh. Sounds like they have a story as well."

Sorey's scarf whipped through the snow, the precipitation seemed to perpetually fall this far north, but Mikleo had left a perfect trail to follow, further up the foothills and closer to the volcano. He worried his bottom lip, wondering what his partner was feeling, going through. His thoughts drifted to the historia, the vision of what happened to Mikleo at Camlann: to be sacrificed by his own uncle to create a curse. And now to learn that Artorius had sacrificed his own nephew to summon a god… The cruelty of it swept over him, and he once again did not understand how Mikleo was still standing, still able to face the world so calmly.

"Mikleo!" he called out, catching a shadow over a crest of a hill. The wind cut through him again - he knew he should be freezing but his feet carried him effortlessly through the knee-deep snow to the closest person in the world to him.

Mikleo was pacing back and forth, the tails of his cloak winding this way and that. His arms pumped as he walked, back and forth, back and forth.

"You shouldn't have come Sorey," he said, "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Sorey countered, gesturing to his pacing.

"Yes, I am."

"Mikleo," Sorey said, and a part of him reached out to that tether between them, the open contract that had somehow let them armatize as a pair of seraph. He felt something akin to anxiety on the other side, muddled and hard to read, but it wasn't positive and that made him step closer. "At least talk to me."

"I would if I knew what to say," Mikleo countered, still pacing. He reached up and rubbed his temple before covering his mouth with a hand. "I don't… I haven't figured out how I feel about all this yet. I need time… I need…" He looked up, violet eyes intense. "Why would he do that?" he asked, voice pitched and pained. "Why would he volunteer to sacrifice himself like that? If he actually had a choice why would he…?"

Mikleo had finally stopped moving, and pain was etched across his features.

"He'd never know," he said. "He'd never know! He'd never know what it was like to grow up with his family, he'd never know what he would have done living as a human, he'd never know what kind of friends he would have or what kind adventures he would have. He had a choice! Why would he choose that?"

Sorey looked down at the string of questions. "... I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know the answers to those questions. But… I know something about sacrificing yourself."

He saw Mikleo stiffen in front of him, but he kept his gaze low, slowly losing himself in his own thoughts. "I know how desperate a decision like that is," he confessed. "I know how cornered you have to feel, and how much you want to do literally anything else. I know what it's like to try and find another solution, another way, but always come up empty. And I know how badly it hurts the people around you - especially family." He looked up then, catching Mikleo's wide eyes. "I know how hard that decision is, and how long it takes, and how hard it is to live with yourself when you finally make the decision, and how hard it is to tell the people closest to you."

"Sorey…"

He shook his head. "Mikleo, I don't know why Velvet's brother decided to volunteer to summon Innominate, but I know it had to be a hard, desperate decision that he didn't make lightly. And maybe it's stupid to say any of that, maybe it doesn't make a decision like that easier - and I know it doesn't make the results easier to live with but… but still… There has to be a good reason, even if the reason only makes sense to Velvet's brother and only Velvet's brother."

A single tear slid down Mikleo's cheek, freezing in the icy air as the snow finally stopped, clouds breaking and the night sky bathing them in weak moonlight. Mikleo always looked his most ethereal in this light, and Sorey's eyes drank in the sight even as his heart broke to see all the pain on his partner's face. He reached up, cupping a cheek.

"Please," he said softly. "You don't have to be okay with it. You don't have to forgive it. But I think Velvet deserves us to understand it."

"... you're so unfair sometimes," Mikleo muttered, his voice watery, and Sorey pulled him into a tight hug, Mikleo responding in kind.

Sorey greedily ran a hand through Mikleo's hair, needing the softness to keep him grounded as he thought about his decision to sleep with Phi for centuries, cutting himself off from everything in order to do what was right. Velvet's brother, whatever his name was, he had to think he was doing the right thing, he had to think something good would come out of it. Sorey wasn't sure if he could accept it if it wasn't, and it was selfish to bring this thought to Mikleo, but the idea of self-sacrifice like that, knowing exactly what Innominat was going to do… it hurt Sorey in a similar way. All he could think of was Shepherd Michael, all the suffering he went through, and then all the pain his suffering brought - and the people he hurt the most were the people closest to him.

… The person Sorey had hurt most was closest to him.

He was enough of a ruin geek to know that history repeated itself, and he would have been an idiot if he didn't see the similarities between Shepherd Michael and Shepherd Artorius, between Mikleo and Velvet's brother. He wanted to change it, fix it, make Mikleo even that much different than Velvet's brother, that much happier after Shepherd Michael's decision. He squeezed harder, uncertain what else to do other than be there. Be supportive and loving, to give Mikleo everything he needed, everything he wanted, to make him happy and healthy and able to face this story.

Rokurou found them later, Sorey could sense his approach from a distance, and he nuzzled Mikleo, giving his partner a chance to compose himself.

"Come on," the daemon said. "I want to show you something."

They moved further up the mountain, slowly entering a cave that opened up to the volcano inside. Stalactites and Stalagmites littered the caverns, ancient lava pools either long cooled or still active, casting rich orange and gold light. Rokurou seemed to move through it easily, and he had his two giant broadswords on his back. One hand was tucked into his sash while the other carried a jug of sake. He was in his sensitive space again, face thoughtful.

Sorey kept close to Mikleo, his partner still painfully quiet. What they needed was time, Sorey understood that, and he wished he could hug the water seraph openly in front of others without making Mikleo's intense privacy trigger.

"Hey! Shigure! It's been a while!"

Rokurou lifted a hand up with a jaunty wave, exiting out to a massive cavern of active magma. In the middle of the chamber was a grave marker. Oh…

"Got your favorite!" Rokurou said, "Yozokura anmitsu, also some sake - it's nice and warm now because of the magma. Also, I remember Morgrim telling me you hated being alone, so I brought some friends. I know, I know, since when do I have friends, but miracles happen, am I right?" The daemon set down the sake and a box wrapped in printed cloth before artfully drawing both broadswords. "Stormhowl and Stormquell say hi," he said brightly, driving both of them into the cooled obsidian as if it were nothing. "It's been a couple hundred years, hope you don't mind. I have some fights to share with you, but we'll get there." He sat down lazily, but his back was perfectly straight and he bowed to the marker, taking the jug of sake and pouring some of it over the marker. "Come on," he said, turning to the seraph. "Sit and eat."

Sorey sat down, very sensitive to where they were, and Mikleo sat formally on his knees as Rokurou unwrapped his parcel, spreading out foods Sorey didn't immediately recognize as the daemon made shares and handed them out.

"... why are we here?" he asked quietly.

"We're in the area," Rokurou said brightly, taking a gulp of his sake. "Seemed like a good idea. This is Shigure, my brother. We fought here, and I finally beat him after one thousand and thirteen matches."

One thou… Sorey blinked at the number.

"A lot of people were worried about the fight," Rokurou said, gesturing for the pair to eat. "Eleanor literally cried when it was over, upset to see two brothers fighting so hard. But it was and will probably always be the greatest fight of my life. Neither of us held back, we were equals on the field of our choosing, and there were no regrets."

"I… see…" Sorey said, cautiously eating - was this bean paste? Mikleo followed suit, but he was glaring over his plate, meaning he was still in a bad mood. Sorey shifted his seat, edging a little closer.

"Laphicet and I talked about it afterwards," Rokurou said. "When I was human? I wanted everything Shigure had: the title Shigure, the leadership of the clan, Stormhowl. I wanted it so bad, so I spread some lies that he was plotting to betray the clan - anything to justify me going after him." He snorted. "He figured it out a long time ago, of course, but he didn't care, because he knew: More than anything else, more than all the trappings of being Shigure, what I wanted most was a chance to fight him again. Was it selfish to spread the lies? Sure. But did it matter? No.

"That's the thing. Humans, daemons, malakhim, deep down we're all selfish. We all want something, and we want it so bad we'll do anything to get it. I wanted to face my brother, Velvet wanted her revenge on Artorius, Eizen wanted to live life his way even if he turned into a dragon as a result. Velvet's brother? He wanted to live, he wanted to survive the twelve year sickness with all his might and go on an adventure. Was it selfish? Sure. But did it matter? No. Not to him."

Silence spread between the three of them, Rokurou eating his food, Sorey slowly following suit while Mikleo just moved it around on his plate.

"You wanted to stop Heldalf, right?" Rokurou asked. "That's what you wanted more than anything else."

"No," Sorey said, looking down. "It's more complicated than that."

"But what you wanted put you to sleep for almost six hundred years, right?"

"Yes…"

"Then it was a selfish desire. But did it matter? No."

"No," Sorey said, shaking his head. "It did matter. It hurt the people around me, they had to grieve for me, they had to…"

"So?"

"So?" Sorey repeated, head snapping up, upset. "What do you mean 'so'!?"

"I mean, you still did it," Rokurou said. "Shigure still sided with Artorius, I still lied behind his back, Velvet's brother still decided to volunteer himself as sacrifice for Innominat. That selfishness, that's what makes us who we are. That's what defines us. That's why we'll never be rid of malevolence. You two have been selfish, right?"

Sorey shook his head. "Not Mikleo," he said. "Never."

"... that's not true," his partner said, and Sorey turned to see he had finally looked up, violet gaze steady. "I chose to be your Sub Lord."

"No, Mikleo, that was me, I didn't realize-"

"It was just as much me," Mikleo said, voice soft, tired. "I wanted to be by your side, no matter what you said. I was stubborn."

"You were right, I never would have gotten as far as I did without you."

Mikleo gave a weak echo of a smile. "You're right about that," he said, almost teasing but too tired to muster it properly.

"And there you go," Rokurou said, fingering his chin with a lazy grin. "We're all a bunch of sinners. Even when our decisions are made for the benefit of everyone around us, they're still a decision of self-interest, because it furthers something we want. Velvet's brother chose Innominat, chose to cancel out the emotions of the entire world, for the benefit of himself. He was so sick and tired of being sick and tired, and this was the answer he came to."

"The answer…" Sorey said, eyes widening as he finally saw what Rokurou was reaching for. "That was the answer he reached."

"Yep," the daemon said, lifting up another drink.

… and that was the point wasn't it. All of them struggled to come to their own answer, their own way to reconcile facing Heldalf, their own way to prove to themselves that they could beat the Lord of Calamity. Their answer needed conviction, to prove themselves to Mayvin and each other. The seraph were willing to become ammunition, Sorey was willing to sleep for as long as it took. All of them were willing to give up their lives for their goal. Velvet's brother was no different. Something clicked in the back of Sorey's head, and he turned and saw Mikleo looking down, pensive.

"... Thank you," Sorey said, bowing his head. "You're doing a lot for us and… thank you."

Rokurou bowed back, returning the respect, but when he straightened his lazy, slightly feral grin was back on his face. "All part of the training," he said brightly. "It's not just your bodies that need work, it's also your spirits. You two are absolute messes."

"Tch. You're no help," Mikleo retorted. The usual bite wasn't there, but the fact that he was being cantankerous relaxed a muscle in Sorey's back. He smiled at his partner, who only nodded in turn. Time would work out the rest, and Sorey would be there for all of it.

"Don't say that just yet," Rokurou said with an easy shrug. "I still haven't explained how Velvet and the rest of us earned the title Lord of Calamity."

… "What?"

Author's Notes: Aaaaah, Rokurou is fun to write. We've said that before but it's worth repeating. There's something about his laidback air in combination with his high emotional intelligence... He also has the added benefit of getting a rise out of Mikleo. And shattering Sorey's worldview. And putting them though hell. The all bounce off each other really well, is what we're saying. :)

He also serves as a mouthpiece for us to make an observation we had while playing both games back to back: how did Mikleo and Sorey et all not succumb to the malevolence after everything that happened to them. There's also a lot of background info dumping for Berseria, because Sorey and Mikleo at least are new to all of this.

We also finally explain the tether that Sorey has been following on and off through the fic: a sensation of the Sub Lord contract. More on that later. We plan on doing a thing.

Next chapter: We'll call it a midwinter date.