The Fight: Blessed and Cursed, The Sons of Sparda
In the far off distance, one could see the glitter of stars, fading in the horizon. The once magnificent sun taking a long dip into that line of where darkness and light come together, and the expectation of two immortals come mutually takes place. She was witness to it and whether she is part of the plan or not, it mattered not. Their desires and focus were only for each other, taking complete domination over which was better than the other. At a camera angle, there seemed to be a moving gradation of a stroking yellow light that shimmied over the abandoned, decrepitude buildings. It touched the broken stones, rotted wood, and mossy grown hidden crevices with a slight stroke.
A Jester, on the other side of the gothic buildings; reaching high above the other dilapidated edifices-appeared to kiss the sky, and he walked in a chaotic sort of dance that made other demons disregard him. His face, full of laughter, as if he could keep laughing at his own poor jokes, shook his body in that trance-like-dance that could only be described as ludicrous, but if one gets close, it could mean their life.
Flying in a formation in a playground, the fire flies glided around the discarded bodies of demons and debris; their beady eyes flashed in and out, like those glittering on the verge of needing a new bulb. But they never flickered out. They can never flicker away when they're in the darkness. Deadly though they are, their stings could mean more than just blood sucking and electricity. They floated above the city's crumbling walls, the few of them, hovered in a school. They see the half devil from above, their beady eyes in multiple scores watched him greedily;-the man dressed in a red leather jacket, his chest exposed and toned from the exercise, coming at a fast paced, but instead of honing in on their delicious victim, they stopped still.
What made them prevent their rapacious nature, begs the issue of Vergil's own powers of exploitation and how far he had gone, if he had actually the influence to carry out mind manipulations. One could never really control demons, unless there were rules and normally, demons never follow rules. Unless, perhaps, there is something in it for them.
Above, among the ruins, the other brother in question, dressed in the blue colored garment that matched his soul, ice cold, but his blood burned with the guarantee of an excellent clash of strength and power. If there's one thing he's never disappointed about, it's the battle between him and his brother. Although he won't admit it to himself or to him, by feeding the fires of his brothers ego, it would be just as well that he'd rather tell him how much more skilled his own style was in comparison. It was not far from the truth. His own selfish agendas revolved around Dante, two opposites, so alike and so apart. But unlike his sibling, he was focused, more obsessive about his course. What did Dante have? His love for rock metal music, guns, drums and electric guitar, and oh yes, let's not forget, pretty girls, were in conclusion, a little pathetic to him. If the same blood ran in his veins, then why is it that he could forget all that that humanity is weak towards? While the other can indulge into the precarious indulgence of these senses that only serve to divert the attentions of what is really important?
His sword, which he gripped in the strength of his hand, had a leather wrapping, and at the end of the sword, sharp, pointed, carried with it the hidden power of the man wielding it. Emblazoned with different hues of blues, Vergil wore his satin-esque jacket over his broad shoulders, and the strength of the man under it apprehensive with a controlled tension. The snake like designs along side the lapels depict his own nature; smooth, twisted, and unpredictable. The facial expression he wore appeared masked, contemplative, and decisive.
The labyrinth behind the two figures above the mass destruction of defiled structures; waited with an impatient, controlled, bearing. Of the half empty gothic architecture, spiraling high above and below, the air tight and constricting around them, beckoned a kind of dark temptation that was not ignored by the young lady in the half shadows. She couldn't believe that her impetuous nature led her to agree on a preposterous arrangement. Sure, she believed naturally, that he would lose, right? The query was begging her to wonder why wouldn't he win? Why would he lose? And what was the deal with the saving the damsel scenario anyway? Her mind raced to the beginning, where she hunted Vergil down. It wasn't as if she found him by chance, it was by mere accident, or so she thought. If anything, there could be the question that he orchestrated the whole thing. It was something that she was awed about.
His genius at strategy and manipulation.
Where the other half devil, his more unnatural ability to be less controllable, yet honed, to a more finer sense of creative fighting style. As she had witness to see beforehand by viewing his methods, taking on a few demonic predators coming at Dante from her perch above the vestibule of chaotic maze. She didn't realize that Vergil watched her reaction as easily as he observed the way his brother had obviously taken on single handedly an array of demons. Did he even think those demons had a chance? In numbers, they thought by taking on the half devil, he'd let his guard down, and by the massive amount of numbers that grew, that came at him, it would wear him down.
It didn't.
This only enraged the young half devil. What only made the young woman even less sure about her feelings, was that, even as the labyrinth behind her had a feeling of absolute menacing power, it was there that perhaps the fight could take place. She wondered at that and her curious nature, ever so troublesome, took another glance behind her. What she saw was what everyone else who had the good eye to see: Standing high, a dark looming architectural monster, that faded in and out, invisible and transparent, one could see that unlike a maze, has no dead ends. It breathed like a person, and the wind itself is its air, its life and blood. There is only a single course, and while it does have bends and snakelike hoops, they say a person can get misplaced. And that you can't disappear, but she felt if unknowledgeable to its end, you can fade away. With a labyrinth you don't have to think, or scrutinize, or unravel a predicament.
This is something that she's been aware of. But otherwise, a more inexperienced individual would find that they would be intimidated at its height and depth. Usually, with a labyrinth you just have the conviction that the trail will direct you to where you need to be. Behind the labyrinth, as it faded in and out, there is barren wasteland that would deceptively show an individual a dead end.
"VERGIL!"
Dante's voice carried high from below, sending waves of his hatred and emotional turmoil towards the object of his desire, his fallen sibling. Vergil's eyes glittered and in answer came back to his brother,
"About time you got here. I was beginning to worry."
Dante ignored the lack of sentiment and couldn't make out his brother from his distance and without preamble, took a quick run up the steps, avoiding the broken, crumbling stones that would delay the outcome of their battle. It was only when he was able to get more than half way that he saw his brother walk slowly backwards, into the circle that they would eventually stand on.
Upon standing the last step to his destination, Dante held up this sword, pointing towards his opponent, his laughing voice carried in an echo, mocking his brother.
"I know you've been waiting for this all your life, Vergil. It is the only thing that you live for."
Vergil made a derisive snort, "You got that right. But I got to wonder why, since I know exactly how you fight."
They faced each other squarely, and then did their slow perusal of each other; both measuring the other even when they've probably done this a hundred times before. And only when they took a few steps that they stood still, holding their weapon at their sides, and Dante couldn't resist glancing at the other's only weapon. His mouth running a little faster than his wit could hold, "I guess I shouldn't expect a choose your weapon kind of deal, huh."
The half devil in blue chuckled darkly, his satire smile mocked him back with a retort, "Do you need to ask? Why bother with mechanical weapons that need no skill to hone?" his body language relaxed, even as beneath the strength he was excited at the prospect of the fight. There was a sense of adrenaline that pumped through his veins and ignited the brilliance of his mind. Changing his mood as quickly as his unpredictable nature, stopping Dante with another glare,
"Wait. You believe I can't manage a mere weapon? Like those you have on you?" and lifted a silver brow at him.
"Did I say that?" Dante said, with his head cocked to one side, as if he were talking to a small child. Vergil never took that bait and held his strong chin with his free hand, then with a quick agility, turned to take the woman half hidden in the shadows, the girl; becoming painfully aware in the harsh neon night of their surroundings, came face to face with the red clad enemy.
"I'll indulge, this time, Dante, for you." His brother whispered behind the girl.
Dante drew his brows together, noted the way Vergil held her, his hand over her waist, held there in a kind of possessive grip. His brother pushed her without warning towards the other young man,
"There's your prince charming, little girl. If you want to go to him, you only need to do so. But not without a fight and he implies that I can't do it without those weapons you both use." Then laughed, "Why don't you choose for me? From your own collection, naturally."
She was wondering at what game Vergil was playing at but if his teasing of this damsel deal already irked her more feminist thoughts, then she would refuse anything. But from her own violation, she willingly handed him two guns, the one that looked similar to Dantes. A heavy weapon that looked like a magnum 45, except it packs a whollop and the bullets are faster, intensely modified. A modernized version of its distant cousin. Although the girl's weapons were mainly handguns and a large rocket launcher, they were ignored.
Before she could step back to allow them to fight, a voice that sounded concerned, Dante called to her, "You alright?"
Why wouldn't she be? The rebellious thought struck her first and though confused, she nodded her head slowly, her eyes and his locked together in a kind of unspoken battle.
"Yes. But…"
"Well I hate to break up this little heart-to-heart, but I believe this has been way overdue."
Vergil wasn't fooling anyone, even with the slight irritation in his voice. It almost seemed as if he were jealous. It's not uncommon that brothers would be jealous, but from Vergil, the jealousy that centered around this girl was something very out of the ordinary. And Dante was quick to notice.
"Too bad you're not so popular with the ladies…..bro. Maybe you need an attitude adjustment."
"On the contrary…"
Vergil slightly sneered, then without warning, he shot out, and the whip lash speed he possessed created a flash, and a more trained eye would see that he had pushed the girl away so as she wouldn't get hurt in the fray. But still, after sending a zing of bullets in the direction of his younger brother, Dante managed to grab hold of his own reflexes; moving away from the bullets, avoiding the whiz of shells passed through, enabling noises that sounded like a small new year's party. These shots rang out, ricocheting on the stony ground they hit, impacting, taking out chunks of debris, flying up in the air.
They hit the half devil with out pain, bouncing off their jackets. Dante took out his ice nun chucks and swung it over to his brother, who avoided the weapon. The speed in which Dante used the nun chucks whipped so fast they made an intense noise. The viewer could naturally see the formation of a butterfly and they flew at Vergil. Ice particles, like tiny blades swung in schools, sharp and fast, they created a silent noise. Instead of hitting his brother, Vergil struck the cemented, hard ground with style, smoothly rolling over, only to pick up his sword off the floor with one swift move. Abandoning the guns to pick up his blade; it didn't take long for Vergil to use up the bullets while Dante managed to avoid them with rapid impulse. Avoiding the bullets were not a problem for these two. It was getting close together that would make the more difficult termination.
It wasn't long.
It was Dante who made the first move, rushing into his brother with a vengeance, the long blade in his hand, and while Vergil held his ground; positioned up his own weapon to use block. The sound of swords clashing in that swirling atmosphere stung the girl's ears. She watched in avid fascination; a sort of excitement made her bite her lower lip. What the hell is wrong with these two? They fought with such a fierceness, which made her eyes sting. Her breath caught in a pause, and didn't even know she was holding her breath for so long till she watched them push at each other, their swords scraping loudly, like a blacksmith at the blade; sparks of red shower flew out from the weapons. It hardly made a dent into their swords.
The vigor of their strength, so equally matched, held, CLANG! And held, until Vergil chuckled, his visage sparkled plainly in the mirror of the linear sword. "Do you really want her that bad?"
With another quick movement, Dante swung the sword away, ZWINNGG! Then, promptly, in a downwards position, then up, SWOOSH! While Vergil blocked each pressure and with the self same agility, came back with the same force. Breathing from the intensity of their self hate, the younger grated out with false sincerity, "Not really. I missed my brother."
Vergil's next move, with his strength scraped the others blade upwards, swinging high and turning, their jackets creating a blazing cape in the wind, red and blue banners, flew up and down, with their silver smooth movements. The sound of thunder began to make their entrance from above and the girl made one quick look above at the creation of nature's dark energy in this place. Their blades met again, WHOOSH! CLANG! Vergil's voice rang out, melding with the thunder's voice, "Good, I thought for a moment you'd abandon me over her."
Dante gritted his teeth and with force, pushed with his might at his brother's side, while the other, avoiding the thrust, received a tear of his immaculate blue jacket.
Next chapter: Conclusion!