Arson stood alone, a light breeze blowing at his body, caressing his face. He stared fixedly ahead as the wind suddenly stopped. He was aware of the wind, but he could feel no cold. He closed his eyes as the wind picked up again, blowing his hair out of his face. A single tear streaked down the side of his face, but yet he made no sound. He knew not why for this sudden empty feeling, this terrible sadness.
He slowly sat down, hugging his knees to his chest, his thoughts on his father. He wondered what he would have done in this situation, whether he would have given up, or whether he would have carried on regardless of the danger. No more tears fell. Arson felt the side of his face, and looked down at his hand. The liquid shimmered but yet he could not feel it. What was this feeling? One could see and feel, but yet, couldn't feel.
The sun slowly began to rise in the East, where snow capped mountains lay. The light fell across the boy, bathing him in its golden glow. Arson didn't flinch from the sudden light that dazzled him momentarily, but instead allowed its warmth to seep through into his own body. That, at least, was the one thing he could feel.
Where was he? In the place where he had come from, light was now a rarity. The sun rose no longer; his world had become like a dark abyss. But here, the warm, golden, pure sun ruled all. He watched, not really understanding his own thoughts. He felt as though he were drifting, as though he were no longer real. The sky began to turn pink, but in Arson's eyes it was blood red in colour. He didn't belong here. This was place was not meant for him. But he didn't want to go either. He did belong here.
He looked up as he sensed someone behind him. He turned his head, first taking in the hand that lay on his shoulder. But yet, he had not felt it, even though he felt as though he had been expecting something like this to happen. The golden orb in the sky continued to rise, continued to grow in heat. Arson turned his head again, to look ahead of him.
He was sitting on a hill, and below him, the rest of the land seemed to fold out like a patchwork quilt. There was nothing to be seen for miles. Just something like a grey mist, which sometimes swirled about him, threatening to pull him under its folds. At last, Arson spoke.
'I was asleep.' He looked startled as he heard his own voice. It sounded so near but yet so far, as though he wasn't speaking but someone outside was, almost breathless, empty. He paused and then looked towards the mountains steadily. 'There was no light there…and there was no warmth. Where am I?' A voice spoke inside his head, but he sensed it belonged to the person who stood behind him.
You are neither here…nor there. You are one of us, but yet you are not.
'I'm dead aren't I?' replied Arson. For some reason, he felt no remorse. It was a feeling of peaceful ease that pervaded his senses.
No. Arson continued to look towards the mountains, fascinated by the sight. Somehow, he still didn't feel shocked, or scared. He found that he could accept everything that was being said. He wouldn't question it. What was the point? It all made complete sense, but yet no sense at all. He was happy, and that seemed to be all that mattered. He didn't want this peaceful feeling to end.
Your soul is still burning strongly. You don't belong with us. Not yet. The snow was powdered lightly over the rock of the mountains, that seemed to stand sentinel over this land, protecting it from harm. The snow seemed to shimmer and sparkle against the rosy hint of the sky. Arson slowly stood up again, without even realising it. He wanted to point towards them, but yet he couldn't. He didn't feel in control of his own movement. He forced himself to raise his arm, to show what it was he wanted.
'I want to go there. I want to know what it's like.'
The cold? The voice sounded amused. Arson nodded silently. After another pause, he spoke again.
'I want to go there…but then come away from it without feeling pain.'
But what you want is something you can never have, Arson. You will never experience the cold without pain. Agony will follow you where there is water. You may as well face it, Arson. You're not normal. You won't ever be. So lower your hand. Don't fight your destiny any longer. Don't hold yourself back because of your false dreams. Once you accept who you are, you'll be able to carve your own path. You'll be able to carve your own destiny.
Arson kept his eyes fixed on the mountain.
Your soul still burns on brightly. You still desire. You don't belong here. Not yet.
Arson turned to find himself staring into a pair of deep chocolate brown eyes. They seemed somewhat familiar. He took a step back and gasped as he found that he was staring at himself. His own voice sounded in his head again, causing a burst of pain to blind his vision. Go now. You know the way.
Cypher padded easily along the corridor, Dante following behind. Cypher had finally learnt not to let his fear of the Devil Hunter conquer him. He held some control after all. Dante needed him. Knowing this seemed to make him feel a lot safer in the silver haired man's presence. Dante suddenly shivered.
'You better know what you're doing.' Cypher said nothing but blinked up at him.
'You must take me for a complete idiot. This place is my home. I know where I'm going.' Dante said nothing but looked around, feeling uneasy. Not that he'd ever let it show. Not to a punk like Cypher anyway. He suddenly tensed up. Cypher groaned.
'Shit!'
'What is it?'
'There's a large group of Demorins in front of us. We'll have no choice but to fight.' Dante shrugged easily.
'No problem.'
'You don't even have a clue, do you? You don't get it! Not even the most experienced Hunter has ever faced these demons before. Have they? There is nothing in any of your books about any of these demons I have mentioned so far, is there?' Dante was forced to agree. He felt as though he were a rookie yet again. He hated the feeling. He had prided himself on working his way to the top of his career. But now, he had fallen down the ladder and felt as though he was just taking his first ever job.
'What's their weakness?' Cypher closed his eyes as though struggling to remember. Dante folded his arms impatiently and watched him steadily.
'I think…they wear a lot of armour to protect them against any attack. Both magical and physical. The only option we have is to wear them down and get rid of their armour bit by bit. We have to keep that up until their bodies are exposed.' Dante shrugged.
'Doesn't sound that bad to me. Just sounds like a newer version of Blades.' Cypher shook his head
'In that respect, they are similar. But that's where it ends. They're more agile and they're a lot more…'
'Do you just like to talk all day or what? Come on, if we don't keep moving, we're probably going to get caught!' Before Cypher had a chance to reply, Dante had already brushed past him and straight into the fray. Cypher cursed and ran after him. He cried out in pain as a heavy weight collided with his head, knocking him out completely.
Dante heard Cypher cry out in pain but thought nothing of it. Besides he had bigger things to think about. Like saving his butt for one thing. He hissed in pain as he felt sharp claws tear at his back, ripping him open. He staggered backwards, straight into the path of another. Before the demon could attack, Dante rolled out of the way. Instead of hitting the Hunter, the Demorin struck one of its comrades. A fierce battle ensued, during which one was killed after the other had bitten a chunk out of its throat. While it continued to feast, others started to attack Dante again. Dante bulled his way into the middle of the group and tried the same tactic again, thinking that they were probably too stupid to learn from their mistake. He was wrong. One altered its course at the last moment. Dante felt teeth close around his already torn back, sending him flying into a wall.
Dante snarled with pain and took in the Demorins' appearance quickly. When Cypher had told him about them, he had imagined them to be in the same type of form, reptiles. He had been proven wrong on that aspect too. The Demorins took on the shape of a tiger, agile and strong and with claws and teeth that were proving themselves more than useful in battle. If they hadn't been the size of him and his sword combined, Dante wouldn't have been as troubled by them. However, when compared to them, he felt like a dwarf. Blood continued to leak out of his back. Dante tried desperately to focus his mind on his wound, and on healing but nothing happened. He cursed under his breath. It seemed as though his healing process had still been neutralised. And if that had happened, then the chances that he could transform were most probably nil.
He shakily got up, one hand to his back. He quickly looked at his hand and noted the dark red liquid on it.
'Shit,' he whispered. He readied his blade again, wondering how much longer he could cope. He suddenly threw it and started dodging immediately as they sprang at him in unison. Sparda tore into the Demorins eagerly, spilling blood and shedding armour. Demons shrieked in pain but it only served to infuriate them more. Dante found himself getting backed into a wall. He felt panic grip at him for the first time in his life but then he sighed with relief as his sword came whirring back towards him again, dealing out more damage. Three fell, leaving only one left. Dante cart-wheeled to one side, causing the Demorin to crash into the wall. It shook its head dazedly and then charged at him again. Unluckily, it was at that precise moment that his body decided to fail him. He fell to the ground, his back throbbing. He winced and rolled onto his side and tried to get up. He felt claws pin him down on either side.
'Maybe next time!' The Demorin was blasted back by a hail of bullets. Cypher ran to Dante's side, shooting at the demon as fast as he could. The Demorin snarled and then ran towards them, angered by the bullets that bounced off its armour. Cypher lowered his gun, shock robbing him of all sense. Just as it was about to lunge at them, it suddenly collapsed, dead.
Dante couldn't resist a grin as Cypher retrieved Sparda for him.
'Round Trip…perhaps one of the best moves I ever picked up. Useful in a bad situation.' Dante slowly stood up, staggered slightly and then steadied himself. Cypher risked a smile at him.
'That didn't go too badly. If we can find your guns, then getting Trish will be a lot easier.'
'Oh really?' Dante and Cypher both spun around to see Orissa. She giggled impishly and walked over to Dante, running her hands through his hair. 'Looking for me?' Dante held back an insult and froze, his eyes narrowed, ready to kill. Orissa saw the hate and rage in his eyes and laughed softly to herself.
'I wouldn't think of it if I were you, Dante. I hold all the cards in this little game.' Cypher glared at his sister, loathing in his eyes. Orissa smiled at her brother sweetly. 'Father isn't going to be too happy to hear about this, brother,' she said, her voice as smooth as velvet. 'Most probably you'll be fed to his soldiers. I wonder who…' her voice trailed off as she began circling Dante again. Dante went for his sword but the smile that was Orissa's face stopped him.
'I wouldn't try that either if I were you. You still can't heal because of me. Those injections I've been giving you weren't just drugs to make you sleep. And everyone here is at my disposal. I could order hundreds of soldiers to rip you both to shreds. I'm sure they'd enjoy it. But yet, my father has plans for you. And so do I.' She looked in Cypher's direction and giggled again.
'I can't say the same for you, brother. You'll be lucky if Father decides to give you a slow painful death.' Dante was about to give a caustic reply when he suddenly staggered forward, a senseless heap. Cypher watched in shocked silence as a pool of blood began to spread around the fallen Hunter. At last he smiled.
'Looks like your plan won't work, Orissa. Dante's going to die. You said it yourself. He can't heal anymore. You will be the undoing of Mundus' plans!' Cypher started laughing hysterically. Orissa snarled with ill concealed anger and snatched up his gun from where he had dropped it.
'Shut up!' There was a deafening shot and then Cypher fell, a smile on his frozen face. Orissa dropped the gun, a look of disgust on her face. 'And so you die, brother. And so you die.'
The next chapter may take some time coming! To be completely honest with you, I'm just making the whole thing as I go along! Anyway it still stays the same; everything that you have heard of in the Devil May Cry series belongs to Capcom and not me. However everything else belongs to me because I'm greedy like that.
If you take pity on a poor little human with exams coming up next month, please read this and review. Thanks.