Blessed And Cursed
Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters = © Capcom. I don't make any profit from this story.
A/N: Lots of flashbacks, lots of background story, lots of switching POVs and lots of OCs. I hope it's not too confusing...
Replies:
Blue-Moons169 – Thank you very much! *-* Yes, a lot of stuff will happen in this chapter...
Thanks for reviewing! :D
Not-Completely-Insane – I think a tentacle tongue would be interesting, haha xD I'm glad you like Sayume though, she's one of my favorite OCs :D
Ah, the flowers. Well, you'll see where they will take Nero... ^.^
Thanks for the review!
bitbyboth – Yes, poor Nero – he always gets molested... xD I'm happy you liked the chapter ^.^
Thanks for reviewing! :D
SirenaLoreley – Yup, Verroth is a meanie. And this chapter speaks for itself...
Thanks for the review! ^.^
Syafeeqah Keita – We'll just have to see about that ;) Thanks for reviewing! :D
WARNING: This chapter contains torture and abuse and I feel horrible about that D:
Chapter 9 – A Foreboding Sky
It felt weird to travel through the spheres. When I had walked through the sphere to get to Sayume, it was like stepping through water. A strange feeling but nothing compared to this. I was falling freely, my body was spinning around and there were so many colors everywhere. It felt like a trip through both heaven and hell and I had the strange feeling of disconnecting from my own body, the vision that I was floating away... I closed my eyes, feeling the free fall but I wasn't afraid.
I felt light, as if I didn't really exist – maybe my spirit detached itself from my body, I didn't even know. Maybe I was even dying, I couldn't tell.
I wasn't myself anymore, just a soul that floated around, spun around in circles, watched memories that weren't my own play out before me...
–
"Pheolae, where did you get these wounds from?"
"Yulija, I –"
"You and Verroth had a fight again, hadn't you?"
"No! We didn't –"
"You don't need to lie to me. It's his poison." Yulija crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I can smell it."
The wounds were already healing but she was still concerned. The poison had burned through Pheolae's snake-like scaled skin – it was a dangerous acid.
Pheolae smiled softly in response. "You are worth all the fights, all the pain."
"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about." It was frustrating to know that she couldn't help her in any way, to know that she was powerless.
"Yulichka, I know – believe me", Pheolae said, gently placing her hands on Yulija's shoulders, softly kneading them.
Yulija sighed quietly. "This is spinning out of control. You two are acting like crazed animals."
"Verroth doesn't get that we're already mates. He wants to take you from me, doesn't want me to be happy", Pheolae mumbled, rubbing Yulija's arms.
She's so beautiful, she thought. Yulija was such a divine creature – her skin was bronze, a golden shimmer adorning it. She had a peacock-like tail with golden and orange feathers that glowed brightly, making it seem as if little flames were dancing beneath her feet. Her oval face had almost symmetrical features – smooth and high cheekbones, big golden eyes and full, crimson lips. But the thing Pheolae loved the most about her was her beautiful voice.
Yulija was a firebird – a demon that had become very rare in the underworld. They had been hunted by humans the last few years – humans that had abused the power given to them by those birds, humans that got too greedy. Humans and demons alike were after them because of their feathers which were light enough to illuminate a whole room in total darkness and because of their singing voices. Legend said the firebird's singing could cure every disease, make blind people see again. Whenever Yulija sang, pearls would erupt from those magical feathers – beautiful white pearls.
"Pheolae, I'm serious", Yulija's voice interrupted her train of thoughts, "Put an end to this. Make peace. Verroth will understand."
Pheolae shook her head. "He won't. He's unable to cope with … this."
"This?" Yulija raised a slender brow. "What exactly?"
"Emotions. He's jealous because all he can do is command and lead – fight and destroy. He fears emotions – even the happiness whenever he wins a battle."
Yulija bit her lip. "I'm sorry I can't help you."
Pheolae leaned in and gently placed a kiss on her lips. "Don't be. We just need to make sure that you will be safe." She sat up on the bed they had been lying on, pulling Yulija with her. "Yulichka, I have a surprise for you."
Yulija laughed heartily and Pheolae closed her eyes, savoring the sound.
"What is it?", she asked curiously but Pheolae cockily shook her head, pulling her out of the room, leading her to the surprise. When they arrived at their destination, Yulija simply stared at the painted wall. "It's so beautiful", she whispered in awe, "Did you make it?"
Pheolae nodded slowly. "Why don't you enter it?"
"It's a portal?"
"Yes."
"Where does it lead to?"
"You'll see, my Queen."
Yulija accepted Pheolae's offered hand and let herself be led through the portal. There, she stared at the trees and the lake in awe.
"It almost looks like … home." The only thing that was different were the trees. Instead of the usual birch trees she was used to, there was only one single tree. It was huge with a thick trunk, fancy flowers Yulija had never seen twining around it in red vines.
Pheolae's had growled at the word "home". It was Verroth's fault that Yulija had lost everything that once meant so much to her, it was his fault she had to suffer. And she hated him even more because now he tried to take Yulija away from her.
"Those flowers...", Yulija said quietly, "They seem so... unusual."
Pheolae chuckled quietly. "Do you like them? I cast a spell on them – they will always take you to me."
They were quiet for a while and Yulija looked around in the sphere, noticing the cranes that trudged through the shallow lake, one of them croaking loudly. Yulija tried to imitate the shrieking sound and laughed again, throwing her head back.
"I will be able to protect you here", Pheolae said softly and Yuliya frowned lightly.
"I can take care of myself", she said stubbornly, making Pheolae chuckle in response. Then, she took Pheolae's hands in hers, taking a closer look at the scars. "I don't want you to be in pain because of me."
"You're worth it."
Yulija smiled in response. It was a sad smile though. She didn't want her lover to be in pain or having to fight her own brother because of her. She appreciated the gesture – this sphere that resembled her home – but she felt as if she was trapped in a golden cage. She had ended up just like all of her ancestors. "How did he manage to hurt you so badly? He has never been that cruel."
"No, he hadn't been...", Pheolae said slowly, pressing her lips together. "Pain changes people, most of the time not for the better."
Yulija gave her a questioning look.
"Father punished him when he showed mercy once. When he did it again, he continued to punish him. He said he's disappointed Verroth showed human traces..."
"Emotions are not limited to humans", Yulija remarked quietly.
"Both of them don't understand", Pheolae said. "Anyway, Verroth stole one of my journals."
Yulija stared at her, waiting for her to continue.
Pheolae sighed silently. "He has one of my spells now."
"What does that mean?"
"You're in danger because I wasn't careful."
"Why?"
"Don't worry about it", Pheolae said quickly, "It's just a spell. Verroth maybe found out how to make poison but he will never be able to use –"
"Pheolae, don't lie to me", Yulija said sharply, "I know you. It's not 'just a spell'. What are you hiding from me?"
Pheolae shook her head. "It's nothing. Just plan B."
"Plan B?"
"An alternative plan in case I won't be able to save you. A spell that breaks spheres, nothing special."
Yulija knew it wasn't the whole truth but she decided to let it slip for now. "Let me cure your wounds." And then, she opened her mouth, notes spilling from her throat. A beautiful, lullaby-like melody – soft, flowing like a river. Her voice was a full soprano, almost angelic, hauntingly beautiful.
"Quondam vixit ava pulchra
Ad eius aspectu astra evanuerunt.
Ea sol erat, alii luna, atro alboque
Damnati sunt alter alteri destruere.
Aurum est color nostri horas,
Sed nos erimus favillis,
Quia memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna.
Memora, numquam tanguntur sol et luna..."
Pheolae watched as golden mist erupted from Yulija's feathers, slowly creeping towards her hands. The mist shrouded the wounds her brother had inflicted to her, closing them and left behind perfectly healed scales.
Yulija continued to sing for a long time after she healed her lover because she knew how much Pheolae loved it when she sang for her. Still, Pheolae noticed the sad lyrics of Yulija's song – both of them had known from the beginning that it would be hard because they were so different from each other. While Yulija was the bright one, the child of the sun as Pheolae sometimes called her, she herself was the dark one of them – the one that was able to play with sinister shadows and practiced black magic. Complete opposites – the reason for their demise.
They spend their time in the haven Pheolae had created, losing themselves in an illusion, forgot about time and their problems, both of them ignoring the impending doom that would inevitably end their union.
–
The Void was an empty sphere. Here, nothing had a true form – live didn't exist here, couldn't exist.
Night and day weren't present in the classical sense – time was an illusion here. The sky was a pure white, no clouds, no sun or moon. The ground contrasted sharply, tinted in a pure black.
Bright green eyes gleamed through the darkness, focusing on the person on the other end of the giant hall. The castle's walls wafted nonstop, making one feel as if the whole structure could collapse any minute. The pillars that supported the high ceiling constantly changed their shape while the floor seemed to be made out of water – the surface warped all the time. Still, it wasn't water, supporting both of the people standing there.
His back was turned to the woman who was watching him while he calmly stared outside into the empty white sky. He was an interesting sight: a long silken cloak covered his body – one half colored black, the other white – and a hood was shadowing his face. A Venetian half-mask covered his features – it was a beautiful mask, the right side was decorated with swirls that reached up to his forehead and resembled feathers although they seemed to be made of a fine metal, while the left side was blank and void of any decorations. Beneath the mask, only his bi-colored lips were visible: the upper lip was black, the lower white. Delicate hands with long fingers played with two small objects that glimmered in the light the sky was casting, one hand pale, white and chalk-like, while the other had the color of ebony. Unequal lips split into a grin. "I guess you're going to ask me for a favor now."
She was still staring at him, slowly inching closer but cautiously keeping some distance. Just as him, she decided to cover herself up, facial features hidden beneath a black cloak, the only thing that was visible were her green eyes. A faint rattling resounded every time she took a step forward. At the same time, she knew her disguise was useless. He knew who she was and he knew what she wanted.
"Is there a reason for your visit?", he continued when she didn't respond. "Other than breaking my chains, of course." Still, he didn't turn around, continuing to stare out of the window.
"I need some power", she finally said and he raised a brow. Power – how typical.
He chuckled quietly. "Isn't it enough that Daevus has already shared his power with you?"
She froze. How did he know?
"He is my creation, did you forget that?", he answered her unspoken question, chuckling lightly. The objects he had played with crumpled in his hand. "I will make sure to punish him for helping you. It's your fault he has to suffer, remember that."
She gritted her teeth in frustration. Not because of the consequences of her actions for Daevus...
Oh, Daevus. A fool for trusting her, for falling for her. Yet, she used him unashamedly to her own advantage. No, she was frustrated because she forgot he would know about her little bond with his minion.
"I freed you", she reminded the man on the other side of the room who was still turning his back to her.
"After your creator put me in chains to conquer the world", he retorted mockingly, apparently amused by the thought and blew the dust off his palm. It flew through the air for several moments before it swirled back, the objects reforming and he retreated to play with them just like before.
"My father never wanted –", she started but he cut her off, noticing that she had corrected the term "creator" with "father".
"Your creator threw things off balance", he said, "He was put into his proper place and will stay there. He won't be granted death."
She bowed her head in defeat. She wasn't here because of her father and he knew it.
"Granting your wish won't bring your lover back, Pheolae."
Yes, he knew the reason for her visit, knew why she had taken pain to come and free him. He knew she was mourning because of her loss, because of her own incapability to protect what she loved.
A hiss tore through the silence and her eyes gleamed with anger. "My father gave me the power of creating and forming. Daevus gave me his blood – the key to you. Now, I am asking you for the power of raising the dead."
So that's what she was aiming for.
"Is this why you showed me these?", he asked, finally turning around and opening his palm. Two pearls lay there, one white, the other black.
"It's the last thing I have left of... her", she whispered in response, not daring to say her name. It would make things even more painful, would make her death sound so … final. A sob made its way through her throat and she bit her lip in anger at being weak. Damn her father for making her like this, for creating her in the first place.
"You don't seem to be aware of how dangerous this is", his voice cut off her train of thoughts.
"I am", she retorted firmly, making him shake his head in response.
"Your emotions make you blind. What have you taken upon yourself? You left your brother behind, left your place."
"My place is not next to him", she said stubbornly, feeling insulted. "Verroth despises our father for what he did to us, is convinced that our ability to feel emotions is a flaw."
He kept quiet. Their creator had been convinced that his so-called "children" would carry on his legacy. Apparently, he didn't expect them to cut ties.
"He will be fine", she continued, referring to her brother, and bit her lip. "Lost an eye during the battles Sparda triggered but still, he'll be fine."
"He's holding a grudge against Sparda now, doesn't he?"
She nodded in response, getting impatient.
He sensed this. "There's a reason both of you have been created."
She didn't miss where he put the emphasis. In hell, where she had been created, she and her brother were classified as bastards by those few who knew of their existence. They were nothing but a back-up plan and both of them were aware of it. While it didn't really bother her, her brother was devastated about it, thinking of their whole existence as lie. By now, the inhabitants of the underworld knew about them, her careless brother giving it away when he took off to fight anyone who came his way. She frowned in annoyance. Verroth, that idiot. He always acted without thinking.
"I know", she said then, forcing herself to be calm, "Nonetheless, you would still be enchained if it wasn't for me."
"Fine", he replied, slowly approaching her. She needed to be rewarded for her help after all. "I will grant you your wish. And I will show you your destiny."
That was more than she had hoped for. But her longing made her blind. She didn't see the glimmer in his eyes that flickered through the dark and neither did she notice his smirk. She got what she wished for but didn't think of the consequences.
But he wasn't cruel. He was only doing his job, so to speak, he only did what he was created for.
"Is there a reason you and Verroth parted?", he asked, slicing open her wrist with his long, claw-like fingernails.
She hissed in pain – his nails went straight through her scaled skin, cutting in like a knife through butter. "He was jealous."
So he killed her lover... And now she seemed to be seeking revenge.
"Did he want her too?", he continued to ask, collecting her blood in a bowl he seemed to have summoned out of nowhere.
"Yes", she said, hissing again, "And I didn't want to share." Of course, that wasn't the whole story – she knew her brother couldn't stand to see her happy, that he wanted to destroy everything that meant something to her.
"You became so bitter, Pheolae", he said with a small chuckle.
She frowned again, choosing to keep the comments to herself. If she angered him now, she would leave empty-handed.
"So he just killed her?"
"He said nobody was allowed to have her when he couldn't possess her. But it's not only my brother I want to get at."
He pressed his lips together tightly. Their master should have expected things like these. But he knew both children would meet their fate eventually.
When he had collected enough blood, he stopped digging into her skin and she sighed in relief.
"Now tell me", he said cockily, "What about those beautiful pearls you gave me?"
"My idea of creation", she replied, rubbing the closed wound. "Everything will emerge from these pure pearls."
What an interesting concept. Still, he knew that whatever she planned had nothing to do with purity. She and her brother had been made to destroy, not to create. The things she was able to create and form were weapons of destruction.
But he just shrugged in response, now slicing his own palm open and mixing their blood. The bowl gleamed brightly, lighting up the whole room for a moment. Lightning struck, making her flinch slightly in surprise as the sky flickered red for a moment.
"Your new power will cost you a sacrifice", he told her, holding the bowl, "After drinking this, there is no way back."
She seemed determined though, reaching out for the blood. She drank it eagerly, emptying the bowl in one go, licking her lips afterwards. Instantly, she felt power surging through her and couldn't help but laugh in delight.
He had observed her the whole time meanwhile, just standing there calmly. It was a pathetic sight, he thought. Seeing her getting power-high. She ignored his words, his warning. Their master thought of them as last resort – in case he shouldn't succeed, they were supposed to complete his task. But he had had no idea that both of them lacked rational thinking. Dividing their paths was the most stupid thing to do – it would lead to their failure.
"Thank you", she said and turned to leave.
"Pheolae", he called her back, "This will cost you a sacrifice. Don't forget that."
She nodded again but still, the warning fell on deaf ears. Her heart pumped furiously, she was excited, the sorrow she had felt for the last few weeks was gone.
He knew about her plans but at the same time, all he could do was sit and watch. He was the neutral zone, only allowed to act when things got out of hand. At the moment, he didn't have the power to stop her.
She had left the great hall by now, murmuring words of a long forgotten ancient language. Light pulsed around her and she broke a hole through the closest wall. The surface bubbled up for several seconds before it turned smooth as glass. Without hesitation, she stepped through the portal, back into hell.
There, someone grabbed her shoulder, smashing her into a wall. She hissed in surprise and anger, punching the attacker in the gut. He stumbled back, sputtering insults. "Bastard, you tricked me."
"Aw, why so angry?", she cooed, rubbing her shoulder and staring at the male demon. "Daevus."
Emerald green eyes met jet black orbs. His eyes were completely black, spreading from the iris to the sclera of his eye. He sniffed the air, staring at her in suspicion. "He gave you his blood."
"Yes."
"You freed him."
"Yes."
He raised his arm, attempting to punch her again but she dodged quickly, smirking evilly.
"Why did he agree to this?"
"I can be very persuasive", she said, the grin never leaving her face. By now, the hood of her cloak had slipped down, revealing her beautifully chiseled facial features and her yellowish, scaled skin. Long, snake-like teeth protruded over her lower lip and a split tongue darted out every time she spoke. "You know how persuasive I can be."
"I'd rather call that manipulative, you bastard."
"Call me what you want, Daevus. You won't be around for long anyway."
"Bitch, you betrayed me!", he yelled furiously and she started laughing, a cold and hard laugh.
"And you didn't see it coming?", she asked, angering him further.
"So, what have you gained, Pheolae?", he asked her mockingly. "My death? Your brother's anger? Another enemy? None of that will free your creator or bring Yulija back."
"Shut up", she hissed, slapping him. Her long, claw-like nails left scratches on his cheek. He gingerly touched the already healing cuts, staring at his blood as it dripped down his fingers.
"I have plans", she said quietly, "Suffering. Carnage. Death. The Golden Age Sparda so desperately tried to maintain will end by my hand. Sparda... the one that betrayed his own kind for a human."
But Daevus knew that she didn't want to follow the path of her creator, didn't aim for the throne. No, she was driven by hate and sorrow, searching for something to vent her frustration. He knew her, knew that she didn't really care about politics.
"This has nothing to do with Sparda or his love for that human", Daevus retorted. "You're a sad, sick woman, Pheolae. Selfish. His betrayal means nothing to you, you just want revenge for the things taken away from you."
"If Sparda hadn't started the rebellion, things would have turned out differently", she hissed in response. "He is the first on my list. That's what I owe my father, the last thing I will do for him before we cut ties. And my brother – he can do whatever he wants to. I don't care."
He chuckled quietly. "Things are going to change, huh?"
"Yes. Maybe you will even live long enough to find out what is going to change."
"How will I know?"
"There will be a warning." She raised her hand into the air and black smoke ascended from her palm. Music started to play from somewhere. A celesta played a melody, the bell-like sounds filling the air. A lullaby...? He chuckled again, shaking his head. Angelic music? In hell? She lost her mind. "What is this?"
"The start", she said, "My signal. Memorize it, Daevus. It will announce a new beginning. A phoenix raising from the ashes."
A phoenix, huh? Seemed like she misinterpreted some things... She might be crazy, but she was determined. A dangerous combination.
But Daevus wasn't afraid of Pheolae or her brother – or their master. No, he was more afraid of the punishment that awaited him now inevitably since she had freed the one he helped to enchain... And that one had been his master.
He watched as she danced around to the melody the celesta continued to play, watched how her facial features twisted in sick joy and excitement. She had said that things were going to change. Sparda's rebellion had already changed things. Anarchy reigned hell now. Lower class demons spoke up for themselves, refusing to submit to the elders. Slaves and minions turned on their masters. Daevus still wasn't sure whether this was an improvement or a mistake.
Meanwhile, Pheolae was oblivious to his train of thoughts, still singing along to the melody. The song ended abruptly and one moment later, he realized why.
"You will be put to sleep for two thousand years, Daevus."
Blackness surrounded him. The Void, his home.
"Why?"
"You disobeyed. You are the cause for imbalance. Two thousand years. Be grateful that I decided against destroying you."
Lies, Daevus thought while sinking into blackness. You lied to me, Pheolae.
The words she had whispered to him, every of her touches, every promise. Lies. He would get his revenge. But not now. Darkness had already started to lull him in, putting him to sleep.
–
There was a beautiful mansion on top of a hill. Decorated pillars supported the heavy upper two stories and there was a small tower that rose above the pointed roof. On one side, there was a pretty balcony, and a terrace which lead to a huge garden. Many rose bushes grew there and there was a huge oak tree where a swing was swaying in the faint breeze. Birds were chirping in the spring air and two teenagers were running around in the garden. Both had light hair that was reflected by the sun. They came to a halt at one of the rose bushes, kneeling down in front of it.
"Don't touch it, idiot", one of the boys said, slapping the other's hand away that had reached out for a small object between the branches and flowers.
"Ow, Verge!", the other whined. He was clad in red, contrasting to the other who was wearing blue clothes. "I'm just curious –"
"And stupid", the first one added.
"We should show this thing to mum and dad", the red-clad boy said, "I bet dad knows what it is."
"Still, you shouldn't touch it with your bare hands", the other said and reached out for the object with his hands that were covered with light-brown leather gloves. It was a small white pearl, perfectly round and glistening in the sunlight.
"It's a pearl", the boy in red said, stating the obvious. The one in blue shot him a 'you don't say'-look.
"We should ask dad about this", he said, getting up and pulling the other with him.
The boy in red was still smiling, even though the other frowned, lost in thoughts.
"Vergil, we're turning sixteen in two days", the red-clad boy said in a light sing-song voice, "Dad told me that I will finally get my own guns."
Vergil huffed in response. "Guns are loud and imprecise, Dante", he said, "Why do you want to fight with them?"
"They're great long range weapons!", Dante retorted. Both of them continued to argue as they made their way to the mansion. As soon as they made it inside, the red-clad boy called for their father, receiving a light slap from his brother.
"Quiet, brother", Vergil said with a scowl, "You're acting like a child. We're turning sixteen soon, act like that."
Dante stuck out his tongue in response, receiving another slap. "Knock it off, Verge."
"You're not fighting again, are you?", a soft voice resounded and a woman came down the stairs. She was dressed in a white summer dress with thin straps, her long blonde hair spilling over her round shoulders.
The boys blinked in response. "No, we're not fighting", Vergil said finally.
"Where's dad?", Dante asked, "We found this in the garden –" He gestured to his brother to show their mother the pearl. Vergil opened his palm and she gasped silently, looking both surprised and suspicious.
"Mum?", Dante asked, his voice laced with worry at the look on his mother's face.
"Wait here", she told the boys, and went upstairs again.
The boys exchanged a confused look. Moments later, both their parents came down again. Sparda took the pearl from Vergil, careful not to let it touch his bare skin. The jewel rolled around in his palm and he regarded with suspicion, his facial expression not giving away what he was thinking about.
"Where did you find this?", he asked the twins.
"In the garden", Dante replied, "Dad, why are you –"
"Something is going on in the demon world", Sparda said slowly, "I have to go."
The twins didn't understand why such a small object could cause so much panic, didn't understand why their father suddenly wanted to leave.
Eva meanwhile had a hard time pulling herself together. Sparda had warned her that something like this would happen, that one day he might have to return to the demon world. Even though she was prepared for it, she felt herself falling apart.
Sparda kissed his wife goodbye. Both of them were aware that this could be the last time they saw each other. But Eva had sworn to herself to be strong. She had to protect her boys, had to make sure they weren't afraid. She knew she could overcome anything life threw into her way. She would make it.
Sparda leaned closer to her, whispering something into her ear that the twins couldn't hear and she nodded in response, hugging her husband and blinked away the tears that threatened to roll down from the corners of her eyes. "You will come back. You will."
Maybe it was wishful thinking but Eva still had hope that her husband would return from the underworld even when he was assuming the worst.
Sparda turned to his sons then, suddenly crushing both of them in a tight hug, confusing the twins further.
"Father –", Vergil started but Sparda cut him off.
"Watch over your mother", he said, his voice steady even though there was a faint glimmer in his eyes. Tears...? "I will return soon... hopefully."
He kissed every twin on the forehead before smashing the small white pearl to the floor, crushing it with his boot.
"Father?", Vergil asked yet again, "Explain."
"There's no time to explain", Sparda said and turned to leave.
The family stared at the closed door for several minutes.
"Where did dad go?", Dante asked their mother but Eva just shook her head in response. She only had a faint idea of what could happen now and hoped she was wrong...
–
A loud creaking sound resounded from somewhere, followed by a sharp snap.
"Great, I broke a string."
"No problem. Wait, let me replace it."
The violin was given back to her owner and she twisted the tuning peg, pulling out the broken string.
"I told you I'm not made to play it. How can you play that thing? It's uncomfortable as hell." The boy sounded disgruntled and he rubbed his chin gingerly, crossing his arms in front of his chest afterwards.
"Oh please, Nero", the girl retorted, chuckling quietly, and replaced the string, adjusting the peg again. "When you play the piano, you carry the melody in two hands, that's much more complicated. Now, give me a G."
Nero settled down onto the piano bench and pressed down the key. She tuned the violin meanwhile.
"Kyrie, I should be at the quarters already", he said after some minutes, glancing at the old-fashioned grandfather clock in the corner of the living room.
"You still have time", she said. "In case Credo asks, tell him I held you up."
Nero rolled his eyes. "I just started the training and all of them already hate me. Arriving late would only make it worse."
"Ignore them", Kyrie said with a frown, "They're jealous, Nero. They know you can defeat them with ease, even though you just started the training. You're better than them and they can't handle it. You are the youngest knight in training the Order has ever accepted – at least that's what Credo said yesterday."
"Thanks, Kyrie." Nero's voice was practically dripping with sarcasm.
"I'm serious!"
"Yeah..."
"Nero!", she exclaimed, smacking her bow onto the top cover of the piano, making him jump in surprise, "I don't know what they said to you yesterday and no matter how bad it was – don't let that get you down."
She grabbed the bow again. "We don't get to play together anymore since you started the training", she mumbled silently, sounding sad.
"I'm sorry...", Nero sighed, staring at the notes on the music stand.
"Don't be", Kyrie said soothingly, "I understand that you're busy."
Nero chose to change the topic. "What do you want to play?", he asked, grabbing a songbook.
"Improvise."
"Improvise?", he repeated, sounding surprised.
"Yes", she confirmed, "I already heard you doing it. You like that more than playing music at sight, don't you?"
"Yeah, but –"
"Just do it", she said encouragingly, "I try to keep up with you."
Nero placed the song book back onto top of the piano, settling down in front of the keyboard, and just stared at it. He didn't know how Kyrie knew that he loved to improvise – he also didn't know she heard him when he did it. He usually improvised at night when the rest of the family was sleeping, a little afraid of being judged.
Here in Fortuna, they were quite strict about art in any forms. It was a place that seemed to be stuck in the 18th century where modern art and music were not accepted. The concepts of modern art were something that differed too much from their norms. Fortunians didn't like artists that questioned their religion or their view on the world. Music that was slightly atonal or not melodious was frowned upon, every picture that contained mostly dark colors or was slightly surreal had no chance of being exhibited.
Nero stared at the keyboard for another minute. Then, he started to play a sequence of notes, starting in the bass section, climbing up the keys slowly. The melody was a little timid at first, but soon the music filled the whole room. Kyrie followed with the violin, following the sequence of notes.
She missed this – making music together with her brother. It was something different to play with Nero at home than playing with the entire orchestra or singing with the choir at the church. Making music together had always brought them closer. Nero was entirely relaxed when he played, forgot about the townspeople and their stares and malicious whispers.
He slammed down the keys suddenly, a shrill chord piercing the soft melody. Kyrie flinched, her fingers slipped from the neck of the violin, and the bow scratched the strings sharply, making the notes sound distorted.
Nero threw his head back, laughing heartily. "You should've seen your face", he managed to choke out between laughs.
"You startled me!", she exclaimed angrily, setting the violin down and huffing disapprovingly. "It sounded so beautiful! Why did you destroy it?"
"Beautiful is boring", Nero replied, closing the lid of the piano and grabbing his training bag. "And I have to get going now. We'll see us later tonight." With that, he scrambled out of the room, colliding with a woman that was on her way to the living room.
"Nero!", she exclaimed in surprise, "Watch out where you're running."
"Sorry mom", he said awkwardly, biting his lip.
"Shouldn't you be at the headquarters already?", she asked, raising a brow and Nero grinned sheepishly. "Get going now, Credo left half an hour ago."
"Alright." He continued to run into the direction of the front door. "Bye mom!"
Aurelia shook her head, lips curling into a faint smile. Then, she entered the living room where Kyrie was putting away her violin.
"It's great to hear you two play together", she said, taking a seat on the piano bench, watching as her daughter collected music sheets and song books to take with her to practice.
Kyrie shrugged in response. "I wished Nero didn't have to go to the headquarters every single day." She scratched her head when she couldn't find the first page of a song, raising the cushions of the couch and found the music sheet there, smoothing it carefully.
"You should be proud of him", Aurelia said, "He's only twelve and was already accepted as a knight in training. Of course, Credo recommended him but the elders were in awe. I only wished that Nero's grades were as good as his sword fighting..."
"His grades are lacking because he spends all his time training", Kyrie hissed harshly, making her mother raise a brow.
"Watch your tone", she said a little sharply but quickly returned to her gentle demeanor. "What's the problem, Kyrie?"
"Nothing. We'll see us after band practice." She grabbed the violin bag and stuffed the sheets there, not caring that they were crumpling under her rough treatment.
While she went to the church where she was practicing with the orchestra, she thought about the things her mother just said. Credo suggested the Order to test Nero's abilities, to invite him to join the Order two years earlier than usual. The knight training usually started at the age of fourteen and took four years.
Kyrie knew that Credo now regretted suggesting Nero to the Order. Not because Nero was a bad fighter – far from it. It was a different reason: Credo was jealous.
They weren't biologically related, Nero was adopted into their family but at the moment, their parents have turned all of their attention to him. Credo didn't know how to cope with it. It was the same with Nero's musical talent. His piano teacher soon discovered his potential and in a matter of time, Nero was considered as one of the best piano players in town. Of course, Kyrie knew that most of Nero's talent came from hard training and discipline. He loved challenges, gave his all to it and his hard work paid off apparently.
The only ones who didn't seem to register that were the townspeople of Fortuna. Nero was always judged before he could even open his mouth – because of his unusual appearance. It made Kyrie furious. People knew nothing about him and treated him like an intruder.
Kyrie tried to calm herself down. Inhale, exhale. Everyone in their family accepted Nero, even Credo even though he was quite jealous of him at the moment. They always had each other. Always...
It was dark. Very fucking dark. The colors I had seen during my fall were gone, there was nothing I could make out in the blackness I was kept in.
I tried to remember the things I just had seen but it was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands – impossible. Most of the memories didn't mean anything to me – I didn't understand what I have just seen or why.
I tried to feel my way forward but there was nothing to touch around me. My brows furrowed and I lifted my bringer, hoping its light would help me to orientate myself. It cast a little blueish light but not enough to help me discern anything here. Where was I?
The next thing I realized was that I had trouble moving. And everything hurt – Sayume had warned me that the flowers would drain a bit of my energy but I didn't know it was that much. I was tired and breathing was really hard. I slumped to the ground and closed my eyes. It felt soft, like grass. Where was I?
Something resounded in the distance... music? It sounded so familiar to me but I couldn't recall where I've heard it before... The sound was light and soft. I knew the melody but from where...?
"You are in the Void, pawn."
My eyes shot open again and I tried to sit up but failed at that. "Who are you?"
The voice was female, mellow, smooth and mysterious. "Does it really matter?", she asked cockily, "The only thing that should concern you now is to get out of here alive."
"What?" I didn't get it and the pain that was numbing my mind didn't help. "What's it to you anyway? So what if I died?"
"You are still needed, so don't you dare to die on me", she hissed suddenly and the darkness faded suddenly. The light blinded me and I screwed my eyes shut again, staying on the soft ground.
"Quick, pawn – the longer you stay here, the more life will be sucked out of you."
"Why am I even here?", I asked, getting angry. I tried to stand up again slowly, every bone of my body protesting.
"Because I wanted you to be here."
This voice annoyed me. Where was the logic in that? "So, what do you want?"
"Getting to know you", was her reply.
"What?", I huffed, "Getting to know me? Who are you?"
"You'll find out when the time is right. You are only a pawn in the game anyway."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" My rage helped me to clear my mind. I shot to my feet, blinded by the now bright light. "Come on, show your face."
"I'd rather not", she said bluntly. "Just make sure you don't die, pawn. I've put much effort into you so don't disappoint me."
"I don't even know what you're talking about!" I was seething now.
"I am disappointed", she cooed, "Now I've done so much for you and how are you thanking me?" What? "Only a pawn in the game, yet so important. You will be sacrificed in the end – remember that, darling. A pawn that needs to be sacrificed for the Queen."
"Why are you calling me a pawn?", I asked angrily, "Who are you? And who is that Queen? What're you even talking about?"
"You know the Queen", was her answer, "You know her very well but not as good as you had expected."
"What?" I was getting tired of that bullshit.
"The self-proclaimed King will die today", she said, "He interfered with my plans and now he will pay for this."
"Are we playing chess here or what? What does everything of that have to do with the Queen?", I asked.
She chuckled at that. "We're not playing chess here, pawn", she replied, "Our game has more than two kings, more colors than black and white. Besides, the King is actually the weakest in the whole game. He takes one step at a time. What's the use of protecting him? The Bishop will bring about his downfall."
"The Bishop?", I echoed, getting angrier by the minute.
"The Bishop will defeat the King", she confirmed and I could practically see her smirk.
"Why am I only a pawn?", I asked.
"Because you have protected the Queen for so long", the voice replied, "Even though it almost went wrong in the end."
I had no idea what she wanted from me. "Who are you in that game?"
Before she could answer though, there was a loud bang and the ground beneath me began to shake. "What was that?"
The white light around me started to fade to a bright crimson.
"A sign that this King's reign has come to an end", she replied, "And another reign will begin. But it really doesn't matter to you. You have to go anyway. Goodbye, little pawn. And make sure those beasts don't eat you."
And suddenly, burning liquid cascaded down on me and I lost my footing, desperately searching for something to get a grip on – it was to no avail though. I was drowning in something that seemed to be lava. And once again I swirled through the spheres, through a vortex of colors.
The landing was brutal. I slammed to the ground and groaned in pain.
A loud growl resounded next to me and I scrambled onto my feet again, even though every muscle in my body protested, and searched for the source. Bright yellow eyes and a huge jaw, filled with sharp teeth greeted me. I dodged the monster as it snapped forward and tried to bite off my head, everything inside me aching with every move I made. The pollen of the flowers seemed to have blocked my ability to heal. Fucking great! Now of all times!
All my mind registered was that three of those monsters jumped at me and I was assaulted by even more pain. My demonic instincts made me fight back even though all of my strength was drained.
Something animalistic tried to claw its way out but I kept fighting it back – it was my trigger, demanding power once again.
I hauled out with my bringer, hitting something hard and winced in pain. The thing let go of me and I quickly summoned Yamato and slashed through the enemy closest to me. It stumbled backwards, colliding with the other and I turned around and ran. It was the smartest thing to do – I couldn't fight them in my current status.
The corridor looked dark and there were cages on both sides, all of them containing monsters. Thank god the doors were looked, otherwise I'd be dead meat by now.
I continued to run, not even knowing where to, but I had to get out of here. My lungs burned and everything fucking hurt.
I stumbled and fell when something twined around my ankle and I tried to find purchase on the slick stone floor. The thing drew me closer and I realized it was the same kind of demon that Dante and I had fought earlier. More ropes were wound around me and I lashed about, trying to kick my captor but it was to no avail.
"Now look what the cat dragged in", a voice said and foot steps approached me.
Someone knelt down next to me, turning my face to the side. All I could make out were bright green eyes with red snake-like slits. "Seems like you have escaped your cell. You need to be punished for that, filthy half-breed."
I was lifted and carried and I tried to claw at my captors skin but failed. The grip of the demon was too strong and the ropes it had wound around me restrained me effectively.
Without any warning, I was brutally slammed down onto an examination table. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs and I groaned in pain. Someone strapped me onto the table before I could react. I tried to defend myself but I didn't have any energy left. Oh fuck... The lamp above my head was turned on, the bright artificial light blinding me.
"Interesting...", the voice said and inched closer. Due to the light I couldn't make anything out. I felt clawed hands run down my bringer and tried to get away but the grip was too strong.
Why do I always end up like this? This was the second mad scientist that captured me because of my damn demon arm. First Agnus and now that Verroth-guy... Life always fucks me over and I was getting tired of it. Maybe he would end my misery...?
At first, his fingers simply slid across the hide, seeming to examine the limb but suddenly something sharp dug into it, making me scream as pain rocketed through my body. It seemed as if he had injected venom into my arm. The pain spread quickly and I threw myself at the belts of the table, desperately trying to find a way out.
"Shut up!" A fist collided with my face and I growled in reply, gritting my teeth. I felt blood drip down the side of my face.
"I don't understand why she wanted me to keep you", the voice sighed, "You are a nuisance. 'Oh look how exotic he looks! I bet he's so much fun to play with!' You're indeed pretty, but annoying."
Scalpels dug into my skin and made me scream again. They seemed to be drenched in venom as well. I whimpered in pain and tried to inch away but the clawed hands grabbed me again.
"You should have stayed there, half-breed."
Something pierced the skin on my face and dug itself in. Again, I groaned in pain, closing my eyes in defeat, waiting for unconsciousness to finally set in... but it didn't.
Static noise filled my head and I almost drifted off into blackness but an electric shock brought me back to the edge of consciousness, making me scream over and over again. I was going to die here.
The electric jolts faded as fast as they had struck, making me slump back against the examination table, breathing hard, panting air into my lungs.
I had experienced a lot of pain in my life – I had been sliced open, stabbed and whipped by different demons, I had almost killed myself and had almost gotten killed by breaking my neck, but this time I was going to die for sure. This maniac was going to kill me, I knew it.
"Dante...", I whispered quietly and felt sick. I would never see him again.
This voice was in my head again, the same voice that had demanded for power during the savior incident. "Let me out."
I pushed it back, repressed the demonic nature that I so desperately tried to ignore. The voice continued to yell at me inside my head and I felt numb, barely registering that my skin was pierced again by sharp blades.
"Do you want to die?"
I don't care anymore.
"Let me out, I can save us!"
I don't want to be saved. None of that should exist – me or you.
I was talking to myself in my head... Great. Not only was I dying, I was also losing my mind.
The scalpel dug into the junction between my shoulder and arm, where my bringer was attached and the voice that belonged to my devil side took over. There was a flash of blue and I was free of my restrictions. Quickly, I jumped off the table, trying to ignore the scorching hot spike of pain that rippled through my body.
My devil side was wrong – it didn't save us. The pain got even worse. I doubled over, screaming in agony. My demonic blood didn't seem to clean the poison – it was spreading it. Fast.
Nonetheless, I summoned Yamato again, tried to ignore the pain that seemed to sear my insides.
"Fight it", the voice growled, "You can make it."
I could hear the enemies approaching but my vision was too blurry to make anything out. More static noise filled my head. Growls were coming from everywhere. I was hit by the enemies and I couldn't see anything – my vision was completely swimming by now and I had trouble keeping conscious.
You're wrong... I thought. I can't make it.
Yamato slashed aimlessly and I felt my knees colliding with the floor. My trigger was drained out and I fell down, hoping that I finally passed out or died. Anything for the pain to stop... anything.
"See?", the master's voice resounded from somewhere close to me. "You are a failure, half-breed. You shouldn't be alive."
He was right. Even my devil side couldn't save me this time, that was proof enough that I shouldn't exist, that no part of me should exist. I didn't know what he planned to do to me, didn't understand why he even bothered with torturing me. I deserved it probably...
The townspeople of Fortuna had been right. Kyrie had been right. All of those who said I shouldn't be living were fucking right.
But there was also Dante... he had always said the opposite. But Dante wasn't here. Maybe he had abandoned me. That's what everyone does in the end anyway, so why did I think it would be different this time? Pathetic.
I heard him laugh evilly as pain enveloped me again.
A/N: I feel so horrible because of the torture part D:
Also, a short side note to the firebird-thing: I got the idea from Russian mythology. Basically, the firebird is the Slavic version of a phoenix.
Actually, there was a faint trace of Slavic mythology in DMC 4. Does anyone remember the rusalkas in Fortuna castle? "Rusalka" is the Russian word for mermaid and they are known to mesmerize men with their singing and lead them into traps... So they're a mix of sirens and nymphs (yes, Ciale from the last chapter is a rusalka – I made the part with the tentacle tongue up though, haha xD).
And again, I'm not sure whether the Latin part is 100 % correct.