Note: Sorry it took so long. It's been a busy week. I've also had writer's block and lack of sleep. But the new chapter is finally up. No replies this time. I'll reply in the next chapter. Please enjoy and review. You should probably remember that you can also e-mail me if you have any questions that might become spoilers.
Virgil slowly walked through the city streets, his mind pondering all possible reasons as to why Rona had gone back and what he was going to do now. He wanted to take Rona from Dante but couldn't see how that could be done. Not unless Rona chose to go with him.
A young couple walked past him, hands entwined. The woman's head was leaned against the man's shoulder. They seemed to be so happy.
Virgil looked away in disgust. What did he care? Within a week it would all be over. The full moon was approaching. He could feel its power and it's effect on Rona. What would she become? He wondered.
His mind wondered to the dream. What had she forgiven him for, for wanting to kill her? Or was it something that would be in the future? Would there be something he would need her forgiveness for?
Dante led Rona into the streets. "You already know how to play that guitar. What else do you need me to teach you?"
"I don't know how to use a scythe." She answered simply. "And I won't know until you teach me."
Dante smiled. "You remember everything, don't you?"
"I remember almost everything. And you can teach me now."
Walking slowly, Dante moved behind her and moved her hands to the right positions on what was now a scythe. "Hold it like this," he instructed, "you'll have less of a chance of losing it."
Rona nodded and moved with Dante. Together they swung the scythe, moving as one. Soon breathing as one. Rona closed her eyes and let Dante lead her in what was beginning to feel like a dance. But it was a dance that could either save her or put her in danger; danger she knew would be unavoidable. She could faintly feel Dante move away from her but kept moving. The scythe seemed to demand that she not stop.
Dante stood back and watched Rona move. She swung the scythe as smoothly as he had. Her arms seeming to almost become a part of the weapon itself. He stood, fascinated with the slight feeling of her training being a ceremony for her. But what the ceremony was to symbolize, he didn't know. His eyes slowly drifted along her body, making him realize her movements still seemed to be guided. But there was no one guiding her, or was there? He quickly went into Devil May Cry to get Force Edge. This would prove to him whether or not Rona was still working alone.
After going back to her, he saw she had stopped and now seemed to be speaking to the scythe. It seemed natural for her and yet bizarre.
Before his thoughts could take over him, he lunged at Rona's back. He wasn't at all disappointed when she deflected his attack with the scythe but was amazed to find she was fighting with her eyes closed. He tried to make her lose her weapon by swinging his sword upwards, hitting the scythe's blade. The impact should have been enough to throw it out of her hands but only caused her to flip back and come back at him with a calmness that seemed to be from something else. He sidestepped in time to avoid being impaled. But Rona had expected the move and quickly whacked his chest with the handle of the scythe.
Her eyes opened and she realized whom she was fighting. "What happened?" She asked.
"You hit me." Dante answered with his hand against his stinging chest. "You hit me hard. Why did you have your eyes closed?"
Rona blushed. "I just felt like I should." She turned away and leaned the scythe against her forehead. "I think she told me to."
"She?" Dante suddenly remembered the sorceress that had become the guitar/scythe. "How is she able to talk to you?"
"I don't know. I only know that she's trying to help me."
Cautiously, Dante approached Rona and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "What did she ask for?"
Rona looked into his eyes with a fear that gave Dante the chills. It wasn't a fear of Nevan betraying her but a fear of Nevan keeping her promise. But what had caused this fear? He could tell that Rona wanted to tell him but couldn't. What was holding her back? He wondered.
With a dark light in her eyes, Rona smiled and said, "Come on. We've hardly done anything. There's still a lot of the day left. Lets use it." She moved into a fighting position, scythe held in both hands and ready to either block or strike.
She wasn't going to tell her secret, Dante had figured that much out. Would he have the chance to find out without her cooperation?
Banith watched from above, a satisfied smile creeping over his lips. She had done as he had hoped. But he hadn't expected her to decide to use Nevan for her weapon. Was something being planned that he hadn't foreseen? He couldn't tell the future but could predict humans well, until now. Rona's choice in using an old devil arms weapon was something he hadn't expected. Its maturing power was enough to worry him but what worried him most was that she had become something he couldn't predict. It gave her a power he didn't want her to have.
"It matters little, pretty human. You will die soon." He turned to leave when he was met by what had seemed to be a black figure until his eyes adjusted to the black splotch before him.
"You seem confident." Virgil said as he stood a few feet from Banith. "But I wonder, is it the confidence of a fool or a champion?"
Banith took a step forward. "It is the confidence of a demon who has never lost."
Virgil smirked. "Do not underestimate her. She is… special. On the full moon, what she truly is will be revealed. Until then, she is hardly an enemy."
"And your brother?" Banith cautiously moved to the left, planning to circle Virgil.
With a flash of metal, Virgil was holding the cold blade of his sword against Banith's chest. "He will act if he sees she is in danger. He always did want to be the hero."
"What about you?" Banith stood still, motionless. "Will you try to save her?"
Drawing the blade slowly against Banith's chest, Virgil watched as the blade cut deep into his flesh and a stain of blood bloomed around the long wound. "That has yet to be known." Virgil sheathed his sword and turned away. "Until we meet again." He whispered.