The Reaper

Part Seven

As Vergil strode between the trees, the event that had conspired began to sink in. He was a devil. Vergil recalled the stories his mother had told him when he was very young, how his father had been a legendary, demonic knight, who had banished evil away and became the world's saviour. Vergil had always thought they were fairytales, to keep his spirits up over the father he never knew. Could it really have been true?

This had great implications. All through his life- whether he was conscious of it or not- Vergil had always wanted power. He always took the dominant role over his brother, and trained hard with his blade, aiming to become an unrivalled swordsman. With the powers of a devil, and his newfound heritage, his ambitions could reach places he had never dreamed of. Surprisingly, Vergil was hardly fazed by this news. Well, I've always been able to keep my cool, in any situation, he considered. To reach the level of blade master, Vergil had had to become a calm, collected warrior.

Vergil emerged into a clearing, and there, slumped on the ground, was an unconscious Dante. He was in his human form again as well, and must have fallen the entire height. He would live, Vergil knew, as his brother could survive pretty much anything. Now he knew why.

Vergil shook his brother's shoulder, and he started to come to. AsDante turned over, Vergil saw a rock by his head, and a bloody gash running down his temple.

"Errugh, what happened?" Dante asked groggily. "I remember that scythe spinning so fast…into my chest…then there's blackness." Vergil considered him.

"You…don't remember what happened?" That must be quite a head wound.

"The Reaper…what happened to him?" Dante asked, now alert.

Vergil stared at his brother for a long moment. He then gave his answer.

"He's gone. You were knocked unconscious, and I finished him off." Vergil decided there were some things that would be more useful to him left unsaid.

Dante got shakingly to his feet.

"Ive got the worst headache" He put a hand to his head, then removed it quickly, staring in surprise a the blood on his fingers.

"Do you need a cloth for that?" Vergil inquired.

"Nah- it'll heal up fine," Dante replied with a grin.

All along the way back, Dante asked Vergil how he had done it, to which Vergil always gave the same reply.

"I'm just a better swordsman than you." Dante wouldn't buy it.

"Well, that's another job well done" Dante said as they arrived back at the village gates. "Let's have a celebratory Golshbriek." He strode inside like a triumphant hero. Sighing, Vergil followed.

The End