Chapter Three
The Shadow Lands, House Kimaris
In the millennia since Lucifer first shaped Cedric and the 66th Legion, he has only ever been struck into silence once.
Lucifer was keen on creating a pillar dedicated to patrolling the shadows of the Underworld and preserving their species from the darkness.
Creating such a House necessitated crafting a Devil who did not blink in the face of its own mortality nor wither under the gaze of more powerful beings. This vigor and resiliency needed to be exemplified in its Legion, and Cedric Kimaris ensured that the 66th would never fail in any task handed to them.
While he would become one of the most vicious and formidable Legates under Lucifer's command, he and his Legion were not untouched by
The death of God was supposed to be a triumph for all devils, but in reality, it was little more than a pyrrhic victory.
Witnessing his fall at the hands of his once-favored son sent a psychic backlash that ravaged the minds of all who once bore his touch.
There was not an angel, Heavenly and Fallen, who did not openly weep at their father's fall outside the gates of Heaven.
Despite all the madness, fury, and brutality that all three sides willingly orchestrated during the Great War, no set of eyes was without tears.
These feelings were compacted when the psychic blast utterly annihilated Lucifer and the other Satans. In that moment of anguish, the forces of Heaven and Hell were at the complete mercy of the Fallen.
It is only because Azazel lost his taste for war that the surviving Legates organized a withdrawal from the steps of Heaven, ensuring Devikind didn't cease to exist on that terrible night.
In the century since the conclusion of that brutal conflict, House Kimaris has maintained a passive role in Devil politics. Cedric lost his appetite for war without end and directed his Legion to defend their ancestral home until their blades were needed.
House Kimaris has outlasted dozens of other prestigious pillars by sheer willpower and the superiority of their warriors. The Black Guards of Kimaris are second to none of the surviving legions in discipline and viciousness.
They do not flag or fail their duty to the Shadow Lands or the Underworld.
The 66th has only known one commander, but Cedric vied for an heir to take the mantle.
Jade only desired the role of clan head, Devil politics were her foray, and she cared little for leading a Legion into battle. Ghislaine's half-breed nature made the possibility of her ascension impossible for the other Pillars to stomach.
The twins and Ashara could not take up the mantle because Arwen was his second wife.
Cedric was prepared to mold his untrained and undisciplined son into the perfect Lord of Shadows.
However, it seemed destiny had chosen to gift Cedric a son that was no stranger to the night.
No stranger to war.
The Lord of Shadows, accompanied by his first wife, navigated the extensive collection of detailed memories trapped in their son's deteriorating mind. Cyrus's emotions were overloading his psyche, and he was little more than a boy running on wrath alone.
But that fury was driven not just by the sight of Cedric in his demonic form but by unbreakable willpower driven by a hatred for a single name that reverberated throughout Cyrus's mind.
Covenant.
The word tasted like ash in his mouth, and Elerin's vice-like grip on his hand only intensified the dire circumstances. Memories of a past life haunted their son, and as they walked through the halls of his mind, they found themselves lost in a storm of rage and fear.
Cedric knew that countless deities quietly observed their underlings residing on numerous celestial bodies outside their realm.
All divine powers drew strength from their followers and places of worship, creating a territory that belonged to them in the stars.
He wondered if the gods these Covenant worshipped basked in the glory of this humanity's genocide in their name or hid in shame for the crimes their congregations wrought.
Elerin's silent tears openly wept as she watched her son survive the decadent human streets of a metropolis, the scale of which he had only seen in the avenues of Lucifaad.
Cedric had to keep the indignation in his heart from leaking out. Adding more negative feelings into Cyrus's psyche would only hamper their progress further.
Reluctantly he wiped Elerin's tear-stricken cheeks clean, drawing her attention away from the heart-wrenching sight. "Now is not the time for sorrow, my love. Our son needs us, and we must pull him from the abyss."
"How?" The concerns of a mother should never be ignored, only extinguished.
"Somewhere in this void is Cyrus." Cedric nodded towards a flickering red light in the distance. "He is consumed by wrath and fear. If we are to free him from his shackled mind, it must be with direct confrontation."
"You mean to fight him," Elerin stated, seeing past his choice words.
"I mean to free him." Cedric's words did not appease his wife. "At this moment, he believes his actions are the only ones available to his frightened mind."
Cedric took a deep calming breath. He could taste his son's fear even in this airless void. "While I confront Cyrus, you will remain here. Once I have bested him, he will return to the center of his mind, and you must be there to catch him. If you don't, he will be overwhelmed by his recollections, and his mind will be lost to us forever."
"I don't care how you do it. Just bring me back my son, Cedric." If he failed tonight, the fire in her eyes promised pain upon more than just his physical self.
Valefor Mothers did not take kindly to losing a child, no matter the wounds their offspring inflicted upon them. Cedric had little doubt that Arwen would be just as furious if he failed tonight.
"I will, Elerin." Cedric placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I promise."
He did not waste any more words on his sorrow-filled wife, turning on his heel and marching further into the void. His path was filled with scattered memories, each with its own story.
Cedric felt like a voyeur, and despite the relative necessity of his action, it did little to appease him. Despite being a Devil of the underworld, he still possessed some 'reasonable' traits.
They weren't all utterly malevolent in some respects.
Cyrus still regarded himself as human, whether it was through shame or ignorance. Humanity is a phenomenon when it comes to handling emotions.
Devils are the culmination of every prominent feeling imaginable and are often hypocrites in their own right.
It is not odd to meet a devil who abhors senseless violence and moments later indulge in their lust for combat by slaughtering those in their path during a simple sparring session.
Devils are creatures of sin, and their actions are often influenced by such when they fail to appease their needs accordingly.
Humans reject, suppress, or redirect sins that they feel are uncontrollable because they are easily corrupted.
A devil is only tainted when they fail to promptly placate their sins, and all devils thirst for several cardinal sins throughout their lives.
Failure to appease a sin can drastically affect a Devil's psyche.
Sloth makes Devils lose focus and become neglectful of their duties.
Greed turns Devils into avatars of excess, leading to a thirst for materials or consumption that is often unavailable to them.
The sins that dictate the carnal desires of House Kimaris are two of the most polarizing and debilitating to a devil.
Wrath and Lust.
This knowledge was gathered from the innumerable recollections that dotted Cedric's path. Cyrus was accustomed to suppressing and redirecting all of his wrath against the Covenant, the genocidal zealots on a one-track mission to annihilate his former species.
Now that they were no longer within reach of his fury, Cyrus turned into the docile creature they were used to handling. It was little wonder why he was so effortless to handle during his newborn stage.
He waited for his next prey to show itself.
Cyrus hadn't realized that the enemy he longed for shared the same blood as him.
For all his ability to casually dismiss their family's love and affection, Cyrus was shaken by the truth that the people he had spent five years quietly examining were biblical Devils.
Humanity is not ready to face the reality that they do not walk this land alone. Their minds are too fresh, too feeble to properly understand that their creation was genuinely due to the labor of an all-powerful being.
But his son is different.
When Cyrus looked upon his true form, it wasn't dread at the realization a demon could masquerade as a human. It was the real fear that Devils actively preyed upon humanity like meat, driving them to a butcher like lambs to the slaughter.
In every memory, Cyrus acted with an unnerving calm, never overextending himself into a reckless decision, but that was when he was a member of humanity and not a devil.
His newfound existence and the rush of emotion he was used to curtailing overwhelmed his ill-prepared mind and turned him into a rampaging beast.
It was little wonder why Cyrus had chosen to throw caution to the wind and attempt to assassinate Cedric without caring for his own life.
"DEMON!" A creature lunged at Cedric from his blind spot, and it was only through his martial prowess that he avoided a gruesome bisection of his left shoulder.
"YOU WILL NOT ENDANGER THE GREAT JOURNEY!" Cedric's right arm formed into a sharpened blade that barely halted a follow-up downward strike. The azure-clad alien's two-pronged blade sweltered with plasma, its blistering properties scratching into his sword.
Cedric gripped the creature's right forearm, pulling it close and planting his legs against its torso. He launched the alien away from him with extraordinary power, sending the Xeno sailing clean across the void and into another of its ilk.
The Shadow Lord stood on his heels, glancing in every direction as the 'Elites' encircled his position. They were Cyrus's foremost adversary, and his son's opponent took great pleasure in massacring humans to a man.
"Suppose I need to kill all of you to get to my boy." Cedric mused to himself. The barest of smiles graced his handsome features before his demonic form consumed his skin. "I'd be more than happy to oblige."
These particular aliens were Covenant Zealots, elite advance teams Cyrus had encountered during his service to humanity. He may have been a nightmare to these creatures, but Cedric was more Demon than his son could ever be.
And if Cyrus could butcher these insects without issues, so could Cedric.
With a bellowing roar, the closest Zealot charged with reckless abandon locking swords with Cedric and pushing against the Devil's indomitable strength. Cedric reoriented his balance as the alien broke off their deadly embrace, leaving him open to a stab at his abdomen.
He morphed his free hand into a massive jagged blade, bisecting the alien in one fell swoop. His comrades only snarled in a fury, and the single combat Zealots were accustomed to fell into an uncoordinated melee.
The Shadow Lord had gotten used to the sour taste of blood, and within mere moments, he basked in the blue essence of ten Elite Zealots. The creatures were arrogant and undisciplined, more than likely a causality of Cyrus's warped recollections.
His mind was rapidly deteriorating, and Cedric had no time to waste on petty creatures.
Cedric dashed through dozens of recollections, ignoring the memories that gnawed at his curiosity. The red light blinking in the distance grew in size, and it wasn't long before he found himself staring at a gargantuan gate reaching into the void.
Hundreds of armored beings stood at ramrod attention before the gate, all of whom stood at an incredible height that stretched just above five inches of Cedric's stature.
The Demon could rightly describe these beings' finely crafted armor as efficient and deadly at a glance. Their helms possessed visors that shone a brilliant golden color and compacted their heightened forms in segmented armor that fit their mechanical appearance.
A white eagle emblazoned on its visage stared back at Cedric, and an uncharacteristic shiver crawled down his spine.
'As per Naval Code 45812, you have volunteered for UNSC Special Project, codenamed SPARTAN III. You have been called upon to serve. You will be the sword of Earth and all her colonies. We begin tomorrow.' An ethereal, feminine voice boomed in the abyss, and the gates gradually swung open.
'You will become the best that we can make you.'
'This duty will become your life.'The armored beings disappeared into the void, and their numbers dwindled until there was little more than a handful.
'This life will become your tomb.'
As the gates rolled fully open, Cedric bore witness to the memory that continued to haunt Cyrus.
A beautiful emerald orb encompassed an orbital view of a machination beyond his wildest dreams. The distance between the ship and the celestial body was considerable but not enough to mar its sea-washed sunset oceans and plains of pure pastures.
It was an Elysium but not one of God's making, as far as Cedric could comprehend. Its majesty alone made him want to protect its image if only to bear witness to it once more in his natural life.
And the Covenant burned it to the ground.
Cedric snarled in outrage as their gargantuan craft marred its cherished surface, and for what seemed like hours, he sat in stunned silence as the creatures burned its surface until only glass remained.
"I wish I knew this planet's name so I may visit it someday." The Demon did not expect a voice to answer his inquiry.
"Minab." The word resonated in Cedric's mind, but it felt like a ghostly whisper uttered into his ear.
The sight of a Covenant glassing captivated him so utterly that he did not realize only one armored entity remained barely a few feet behind him.
This one was different from the rest of his kin.
Where their armor was regimented, his was customized and possessed far more protection at a more thorough glance. A contraption spewing a bright blue color was strapped to his left wrist, and his shoulders were protected by separate shielding pieces that differed in size.
However, it was the helmet and its blackened visor that caught Cedric's full attention. Its color was so darkened he felt as though he would fall into a bottomless pit staring into it, and for the first time in centuries, he felt small under its whithering gaze.
This 'Spartan' was a being made for a single purpose.
War.
Much like Cedric was crafted for.
"Like, father like son." The Demon murmured to himself quietly, but Cyrus heard every word.
And he vehemently disagreed.
Cedric was ill-prepared for the calculated strike to his throat, followed by a vicious overhead kick to the temple. He was slingshotted across the void, scraping against an invisible floor before smashing against the gargantuan gate.
Guess they were doing this the hard way.
"I am not your son." Cedric pushed off the ground, slowly turning his right arm into its enormous jagged blade.
"You are, Cyrus." The Spartan growled with disgust. "You may have the memories of a past life, but through your veins is my blood and your mother's."
"Takes more than that to be a parent." Now it was Cedric's turn to snort in amusement. "I know what you are."
"Oh, and what am I, Cyrus?" Cedric stepped to his right, mimicked by his son, who matched his gait.
"A threat to my people. I've seen past your honeyed words and faux truths." Cyrus drew a single combat knife from his chest piece, holding it in a natural reverse grip. "You mean to enslave my race until we are but cattle to feed off of."
"We are not the Covenant, Cyrus." Cedric's eyes pleaded with his stubborn son. "We do not want to butcher the human race or enslave them to our wills. We mean only to survive in the current climate as much as your people."
It was a lie, plain and simple. The human attendants that comprised nearly half of the castle's staff were descendants of Christian hostages that his Legion had taken as slaves during the Great War.
Slaves are integral to Devil society, but this way of thinking was amended after the Great War. The three factions made the surface of Earth neutral ground with only select territories governed by the biblical powers.
These slaves would be an even more critical part of their society if Ajuka's machinations were fully realized. Cedric's people had taken too many casualties during the Great War, and the civil war was grinding their race toward extinction.
The Astorath Clan Head was devising a system to imbue demonic energy in mortals, turning them into devils that could save their race. It was a radical idea but a necessary outcome to prevent their extinction.
To fully realize this dream, however, the old guard must be deposed, and the rebels must claim victory for the future of their race.
If they don't, then it could mean the end of everything.
"If you were to kill me, you'd do nothing but murder a single head of a singular Devil household. It is futile to even consider." In hindsight, that was the wrong thing to say to a boy who had spent his entire life combating the inevitable.
"Didn't stop me from fighting the Covenant." Cyrus strengthened the grip on his knife and turned his hips outward. "And it won't stop me from killing you."
"You don't mean that." Cedric tried once more to appeal to Cyrus. "I am your father. I love you. Your sisters cherish you. Your mother adores you with all her heart. In the five years you have been with us, you can't stand there and tell me you don't care."
"It doesn't matter. I have a duty to uphold. If you die here, I put a prestigious household to a treacherous people into chaos."
"That's the wrath in you, Cyrus. It's overriding your logic and turning into the unfeeling beast Ackerson always wanted." The visibly Spartan flinched at the reminder before schooling his features.
"How do you know that name?" Cyrus growled out with a tone of pure indignation.
"I know more than you could possibly imagine," Cedric answered.
"You've seen my memories." The Spartan spoke it more as a statement than a question. "I've killed for less."
"You've already tried." Cedric retorted, stepping towards his wayward son. "Or did you forget you failed assassination attempt? Did you forget hurting Ashara and slashing at Arwen in your wanton rampage?"
"That….." Cyrus paused as the memory hit him like a freight train. "Was a mistake I will not make twice."
Cedric stopped himself from smirking. Barring Ghislaine, Ashara spent the most amount of time around him, earning a bond with the Kimaris Heir that affected Cyrus deeper than he initially realized.
There was a chink in the armor that Cedric could exploit, and he wasn't about to let it go so easily.
"Say you did kill me," the Demon began. "You would have died not moments after. How would Ghislaine, Jade, or Ashara feel when that happens? What about your mother or the twins and Arwen? Have you ever thought for a second what would happen to them?"
Cyrus's grip on his knife loosened as the emotional toll he inflicted upon his family weighed heavily on him.
The rage consuming his soul waned with each passing word.
Cedric saw his opportunity to strike and prevent a bloody encounter.
He stepped forward. "What if I hadn't hesitated? What would have happened to you?"
He hated every second of their conversation, trying to convince his son of the fallacies of his suicidal and needless mission. There was no logic even with his hatred consuming him, and for the barest of seconds, Cedric thought he had made a breakthrough.
But the words spoken next shattered this belief.
"I would have found death."
Cedric froze.
The crux of the issue that he had overlooked returned tenfold.
Cyrus yearned for an ending to the pain and suffering he had endured over a decade of war and neglect.
He was still a young man by human standards, not even allowed to drink in some cultures, yet he had endured more than any of his race could imagine.
'Only the dead have seen the end of war.' An archaic statement with more truth than most realized the first time they heard it.
Cyrus craved an ending, but Cedric had one final card to play.
"Cyrus," Cedric's demonic carapace peeled away, revealing crimson eyes that burned with fondness. "Death only has meaning when there is a life to live, but you haven't experienced one. For years you have placed others' needs before your own and endured more than most could ever dream of in their nightmares."
"Let us give you what you haven't had in decades. A family." The Lord of Shadow's tone was pleading with sorrow, and he mustered all he could into one word.
"Please."
Cedric would never get a response, for the wrath that had been momentarily abated returned with a vengeance consuming his son whole, warping his body into a demonic beast.
"NEVER!"
Cyrus's armor cracked under the demonic influence, transforming the inside of his helmet into a burning skull as flames coated his entire being. His sin had consumed him whole, exploiting the emotional toll that Cedric had inseminated earlier.
With a narrowed gaze, the demon lord's carapace reformed, and his determination hardened as he glared at the pale imitation of his son in open contempt.
"I will save you." The demonized Spartan shot at Cedric like a cannonball smashing into the Shadow lord with the momentum of a falling meteor.
Cedric found himself pinned to the ground and weathering several strikes to the temple before wrapping his left arm around Cyrus's. A five-inch blade formed from the shadows surrounding his right arm, and Cedric jabbed at the burning skull.
Cyrus retaliated by jamming his knife into Cedric's shoulder, piercing his armor, and forcing him to kick out from underneath the Spartan's massive weight. The Shadow Lord concentrated demonic energy around his left index finger before firing a blast directly into Cyrus's sternum.
The Spartan went sailing backward, reorientating his balance and landing feet first. Cedric wasted no time pressing his advantage, unleashing a devastating strike to Cyrus's torso that chipped pieces of his armor off.
If Cedric were to spare his son's mind from the madness, he had to kill him before it fully consumed him.
"Elerin's gonna kill me after this."
Cedric narrowly avoided a reckless jab at his cheek and inserted a shadow blade directly below Cyrus's right ribs.
"ARGHH!" The Spartan was forced back when a heavy blow impacted his temple, followed by a brutal assault on his shoulder, separating bone from muscle.
The Shadow Lord unleashed a flurry of strikes that cracked the Spartan's armor. Pieces began to fall off, revealing the corruption hidden underneath.
Cyrus's flesh was replaced by complete darkness with no natural pigmentation, and Cedric could see the bones underneath.
His son's mass and muscle withered away until there was nothing but pure demonic corruption.
"Lucifer, guide me." Cedric charged forward with renewed purpose.
He would win this fight and save Cyrus's soul.
Or die trying.
l==l
Elerin stood amongst the shadows in silent concern, Cedric would no doubt do everything he could, but there was little chance that her son wouldn't walk away without injury.
That's how her husband was; if Cyrus were anything like his father, he'd struggle to the end.
She and Cedric explored their son's memories before his departure. Many were of a people that didn't exist yet, fighting wars that she hoped would never come to pass.
The Great War left its scars on everyone, and even with its conclusion over a hundred years ago, its effects reverberated around the planet. Humans, Devils, and Angels equally suffered during its most deadly hours, and its climactic ending at the gates of Heaven only exasperated the issues at hand.
Elerin's maternal instincts and innate curiosity led her to explore Cyrus's memories further. Her son was plagued by a life that, from its onset, was tarnished by his family's passing when he was little more than a child.
It was a tragic accident that took the lives of many unfortunates and left Cyrus with nothing but the debts his family incurred and the clothes on his back. There was little wonder how he ended up on those forsaken streets alone.
That would not happen to him.
Elerin wouldn't allow it.
Her eyes wandered until she came across the last memory in the sequence. The details of Cyrus's final deployment to another planet would forever be lost to her.
Still, there is a reverence for this memory that captivated Elerin more than any other because it was his final thought before death welcomed him with open arms.
As her mind worked through the recollection, she found a blurred-out image of three women. One was so small that Elerin could clutch in her hands, yet she exuded an intelligence that rivaled Ajuka and Falbium combined.
The name Chamber repeated in her mind.
The final image that flashed to the front of Cyrus's mind was of two women clad in the same bulky armor as her son.
They were young.
Elerin could see the youth in their cheekbones and eyes despite their augmentations. If she had to guess, they were little more than twenty years old, no more, no less. The exact same age many of the devil youths were when they were sent off to fight in the Great War.
Two names came to her mind as she analyzed their blurring features.
Eliza and Casey.
Elerin softly exhaled. The more time passed, the more these precious memories faded under his deteriorating mindset. While this piece of Cyrus seemed to bring him pain, she understood that there were some memories he would not want to replace so easily.
"Hurry, Cedric." She muttered, clutching her left arm as a cold shiver crawled on her skin. "We don't have much time."
As though fate would have it, an implosion resonated throughout the void, and Cedric's voice touched her mind.
"CATCH HIM!"
Elerin stuttered in confusion. "What?"
"Above! CATCH HIM, ELERIN!" The Matriarch's eyes shot to the black sky and found a small object approaching at incredible speeds.
Her eyes recognized it as her wayward son, and she sprang into the air, arms outstretched. She barely shielded his tiny form by wrapping her limbs around him in a protective cocoon.
Elerin pulled Cyrus into her chest as his mindscape shattered around them. There was little she could do but hold onto him tightly as they fell into the abyss.
"Mother?" The word came out as a whisper, but Elerins keen ears picked up the foreign word as it fell from his tiny lips.
Cyrus, the petulant child that he was, never called her mother. Instead, referring to Elerin as Ma'am at every social interaction should have broadcasted how odd of a child he truly was, but she didn't care.
Not now, not ever.
"I'm here, child." Her hands brushed against his raven hair, placing a chaste kiss on his weary forehead. "And I will never leave you."
Cyrus said nothing, his palms wrapped around her midsection as he allowed her to pull him closer. Elerin would be crying and cheering in adulation if the circumstances were different, but that would have to wait.
A pair of stern arms snatched her waist, and a familiar chest was pressed against her back. Her husband, ever the savior and dramatic gentleman, unfurled his wings and carried them both in his arms.
"Thank you, love." Elerin placed a lingering kiss against his cheek, calming the growing storm in both.
"Was there ever any doubt?" She had not the heart to scold him for his ignorance. "Let's go home."
Cedric carried them into the overhead light, unlike an angel ascending heaven.
There was much left to be done to calm the hearts of their worried family, but for now, everything was right in the world.
l==l
The Shadow Lands, House Kimaris
Two days later
Cyrus awoke with a start, pulse elevating and eyes blinking away the crust ladened between his eyelids.
A cursory glance at his surroundings informed Cyrus that he was in the safe confines of his room. A realism that he did not expect after his previous actions.
The haze of fury disappeared into the void.
Cyrus had never lost control of his emotions before in his life. The very idea that he was why Ashara and Arwen were wounded gnawed at his heart. He didn't have the best understanding of the emotion known as guilt, but he understood that hurting those two brought an unquestionable amount of negative emotion to him.
"Cyrus." A warm hand grasped his left shoulder, and those damaging sentiments washed away like water on stone. "You really gotta learn how to control yourself, pumpkin."
That insufferable tone and nickname could only mean someone had infiltrated his quarters without his knowledge or awareness.
"Ghislaine," Cyrus said with exasperation. "Even wounded and exhausted, you still somehow find a way to distract me with your annoying antics."
The exquisite Nekoshu slid against him, planting her right arm just above his head and precariously looming over him.
"Come onnnn," Ghislaine poked at his nose with a giggle. "You know you like it."
"I prefer silence." His sister pressed her sizeable chest further into him. "And personal space along with it."
"I bet you do." Cyrus rolled his eyes and turned away from his vexing older sister. "But it just so happens I lost my favorite sibling to an unfortunate circumstance that I am chalking up to puberty."
"I am your favorite because I have yet to say yes to anything you want."
Ghislaine had a knack for manipulation through honeyed words or the physical assets god or satan had blessed upon her magnificent figure. Devil women were unnaturally exquisite beauties, and even his martial mindset took notice.
His eyes trailed her form, and Cyrus wasn't surprised to find her wearing as little as possible around him. Unless there was a formal meeting that required more refined tastes in clothing, Ghilsaine's go-to apparel left her sleek and toned abdomen exposed for the world to see, along with cutoff slacks that ended just above mid-thigh.
He wasn't surprised at the natural reaction to bask in her physical qualities, but most didn't realize the slight discoloring where her belly button resided. They were far too distracted, but Cyrus never was.
The first time he brought it up, she looked at him like he had grown another head before the purest grin graced her lips. Ghislaine had a habit of smiling at someone without reason. Most mistook it as them earning her attention when it was just her natural reaction.
Unfortunately, those who were not family were unaware that her grins were disingenuous. The curled lips directed at Cyrus differed from the rest, glowing with genuine delight.
Ghislaine has dubbed him "her favorite little pumpkin" and has spent considerable time in his presence.
While Ghislaine gazed inexplicably into his eyes, her expression and movements sharpened. She leaned over Cyrus, allowing her white mane to pool around him in a protective shroud.
She grasped his chin and gently turned it to the left, searching for something amiss in his eyes.
"How do you feel?" Her tone was neutral, yet that told Cyrus all he needed to know about how his actions had affected her.
Cedric…..his Father, was right.
His wanton rampage accomplished nothing except damaging the integrity of this family and worrying those few that, at the very least, earned a spot in his consciousness.
"That depends," Cyrus began slowly. "How are Ashara and Arwen."
The door to his room swung open, and both turned their heads on instinct, finding their sister Jade in a simple green tunic that only enriched her splendor.
"Better than you are." The green-eyed woman stormed over to his bed, shoving a visibly annoyed Ghislaine to the side. Jade gave Cyrus a once over, seemingly confirming her worries, before sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Arwen's already recovered, and Ashara is inching to punch you in the face. Demonic and Sin overload or not, I doubt she'd ever let you get one in for free."
"Overload?" Cyrus questioned in confusion, and Ghislaine mistook this as a sign of his lack of memory.
"Yes. Your firsthand exposure to our ancestral power became a catalyst for your rampage. You lost control of yourself in a desire to test it against a superior foe. It's not the weirdest way to unlock your clan's power, but hey, Devils are anything but normal."
Cyrus sat in stunned silence. His father hadn't said a word about the true nature of his rampage, leaving him both ashamed and confused.
What was the old man playing at?
"Weird is an understatement regarding this house," Jade retorted. "I mean, look at you, he's barely had it two days, and you're already grooming him."
To the uninitiated, Jade's words would have been taken as scolding or demeaning, but Cyrus was not a novice to their conversations.
"Tch, tch, tch." Ghislaine tsked at her elder sister. "Careful now. I may sleep in here tonight if you keep that up."
"You wouldn't dare," Jade remarked with little confidence as Ghislaine turned her head and leaned against him, hand playing with his raven locks while a Cheshire grin split her face.
"Wouldn't I?"
Jade and Ghislaine had a…less than reputable relationship by human standards. Cyrus constantly reminded himself that Devils are very…open-minded to one another, even to family members.
Now obviously, there were limits to these liberties.
Most humans and other species can't stomach the thought of a parent sleeping with their child, but as Cyrus would learn later, when a Devil's sin of lust kicked in, there weren't many things they wouldn't do to satisfy it.
In most situations, so long as your partner met your basic desire, such as gender and age, you could satiate it.
And in Ghislaine's own words.
'When the lust gets going, the tough get fucking.'
Cyrus really hated her quips, and he most definitely disliked being used as a chew toy for their next tryst. Lord knows these two aren't exactly subtle about their amorous adventures in their rooms, which, unfortunately, we're right across from his.
He had to get used to the loud banging and shrieks of…pleasure.
Cyrus noticed Jade's lingering eyes going from Ghislaine's chest to her delectable thighs, and she was no better. The manner in which Jade sat against the headboard gave Cyrus and Ghislaine a generous view of her exquisite legs, which did wonders for the sister curled up to him.
"How's everyone else doing?" He inquired out loud, hoping to curtail their lust before they started going from eye banging to actually banging each other.
"They could be better," Jade admitted, eyes turning away from Ghislaine and standing on her feet. "We're having a meeting downstairs, I'll tell them your awake, and we'll all come to your room."
"No." Cyrus's retort froze the hand curled in his hair.
"No?" Jade repeated uncertainly.
"No," Cyrus leaned forward, prompting Ghislaine to follow him. "I'll be down in a moment."
Jade was ready to tear into him with all the fury of a concerned sibling, but a cutting glance from their sister stopped her in her tracks.
"I got him, "Ghislaine vehemently started as Cyrus extracted himself from her protective clutches. "Just tell them we're on our way."
"Are you sure?" Emerald eyes burrowed into his back as he slowly removed his sleepwear.
"Yes, now go." Ghislaine's tone left little room for doubt, and Jade quietly exited his room, leaving her two siblings in private.
Cyrus stared at his childish form in bemusement. He may have been a little over five years old, but devils matured faster than humans, and when they unlock their clan's ancestral powers, it accelerates the process.
Two days ago, Cyrus at least looked similar to his age. Now he stood just above five feet tall with a somewhat athletic build.
At least now he had an idea of why Ashara and the twins, who sat at 12 and 9 years old, didn't look anywhere near their actual age and were more like middle-aged teenagers, albeit far more beautiful and physically mature than their human counterparts.
Cyrus struggled to put on a clean black tunic. He nearly cursed in indignation before a warm hand grasped his tunic for him.
"Arms still sore?" Thankfully Ghislaine had tabled her sarcastic and troublesome personality for the compassionate sister person she rarely brought out.
He wished she had kept it more. At least then, she wouldn't be nearly as irritating.
"It's still numb." Cyrus supplied pointedly.
Ghislaine shook her head in amusement. "Well, dad did take it clean off while fighting the corrupted part of you. I imagine there are innumerable side effects to that."
"So I've noticed."
With Ghislaine's assistance, Cyrus finally finished putting on fresh clothes before exiting his room, hand in hand with his sister. She dragged him through House Kimaris's fortress monastery, passing by numerous attendants and guards along their path.
The human attendants shied away from him.
He had never felt more worthless in his life.
The echoes of his outburst still crawled into their minds, and Cyrus had to work hard to appease their worries.
But first, he needed to placate his family.
As the pair approached the dining room, Cyrus prepared for every scenario he could think of. Rejection, fear, or anger was his primary assumption of their initial greetings.
That's not exactly what he got.
"Cyrus!" Two torpedos slammed into his sternum, and he had to fight off their grabby hands before he fell flat on his back.
Evidently, the twins had missed him.
Dearly, if the flowing tears were anything to go by.
Rose had seen fit to bury her face into the crook of his neck while Sapphire mirrored her sister's position. Cyrus looked past his tear-stricken siblings and found the rest of the family sitting at their dinner table.
At its head sat Cedric, and seated on either side of him were the matriarchs of House Kimaris. Ghislaine ruffled his hair and joined the rest of their family at the dining table, sliding herself into an empty slot next to Jade.
Arwen observed the teary-eyed reunion with a collected figure, but Cyrus did not miss her hand tightly clutching Cedric's. He couldn't blame her for dreading his reaction, he didn't exactly have the best relationship with Arwen, and that was before he stabbed her.
Cyrus had his work cut out for him, and as he extracted himself from the twin's vice-like grip, Ashara's shrewd eyes stared into his soul. A pair of grey orbs promised retribution for his actions, and he knew what she wanted from him.
Cyrus politely declined Ashara's invitation to teach him how to handle a dagger alongside her, forcing her to look elsewhere for a potential sparring partner.
Now there was no politeness in her eyes, and Cyrus would pay for his actions on the training mat he had pointedly avoided.
"Girls." Cedric's voice ricocheted throughout the chamber. "Take a seat. You can speak to your brother later in private."
"Yes, father." Arwen shuddered in relief when her children finally let him free, and he felt himself wince as Elerin quietly prevented Jade from making a scene in his defense.
Damn it, Cyrus could already see the battle lines being drawn and the divide growing between the family. Ghislaine, Jade, and Elerin made up the camp that would inevitably come to his defense, while Arwen and Ashara didn't precisely favor him at the present moment.
His actions or lack thereof, along with Cedric's mediation, would dictate if House Kimaris fractured or prospered into the future.
"It's good to see you awake, Cyrus." Cedric's smile put his son at ease. "Fortunately, this meeting isn't about recent events but an upcoming issue."
Cedric stood on his toes and began circling the table in deep thought. Eventually, he stopped next to Jade, handing her a parchment sealed by the insignia of the Renegades.
A crimson Eagle with the insignias of the four great houses was carved out and replaced by the Latin phrase.
Ad inferos per aspera.
Through adversity, into hell.
"Read it."
Jade followed her father's directive and tore open the parchment. Cyrus strained to conspicuously read the missive, picking out the words Primarch and Cedric before the document slipped from Jade's hand in disbelief.
A foreboding sensation crawled up every member of House Kimaris, barring Cedric, who sought refuge admiring the landscape of his homeland.
"Well," Ghislaine was the first to break the silence. "What is it."
"Primarch Azuraki is dead."
The words sent a reverberating shock through the elder of House Kimaris; Ghislaine cursed to herself while the Matriarchs sat in stunned silence.
"Whose Azuraki?" Cyrus inquired.
"Azuraki was the appointed military commandant to the Renegade faction." Ghislaine supplied bitterly. "A faction our house is aligned with in spirit, but we have yet to declare for them openly nor deploy our Legion in support."
"Not that Rizevim and his lackeys have thought otherwise." Jade spat out furiously. "They sent a dozen raiding parties into our territories before they got the idea to fuck off."
"Rizevim has little interest in government or military affairs." Elerin supplied. "Bashalun Beelzebub is the commander in chief in his stead, and he has a hard-line approach that has forced our hand."
"It is one of many reasons we have finally taken up the call to arms." Cedric boldly stated. "If the loyalists win this conflict, they will reopen hostilities with Heaven and the Grigori. That cannot happen."
"Weren't we close to deploying our Legion to Lucifaad alongside the rebels?" Cyrus spoke diligently.
"We were," Arwen murmured. "But recent events delayed the Legions deployment."
It wasn't lost on Cyrus as to what the Matriarch was referring to, but Elerin silently disapproved, and her daughters even less so. Cedric sensed the boiling indignation of Jade and Ghislaine and intervened before tempers flared.
"What happened in the past," Cedric's cutting gaze bore into all parties. "Stays in the past. I will not have my family at odds at a time like this."
Everyone backed down under the Patriarch's weighted stare, silence reigned across the room, and Sapphire quietly shuffled in her seat in discomfort. Cyrus watched Rose place a calming hand on her twin's shoulder, followed by a reassuring wink that placated her nerves.
He could practically taste the tension in the room, and Cedric was unwilling to break it for what felt like an eternity. A mute conversation between himself and his wives seemed to appease Arwens silent anger, if only for a moment.
"With Azuraki dead," Cedric began promptly. "The political dynamic in the Renegade faction is at a crossroads, and Zekram does not have the authority to take command."
"What about Sirzechs or one of the other Tribunes?" Cedric shook his head at Arwen's inquiry.
"They do not have the experience or support of the houses to take the mantle of Primarch."
"Then who does?" Ghislaine's question cut deep into Cedric, and Cyrus eyed him with curiosity before realization hit him.
"They asked you, didn't they?" His sister's eyes crinkled in confusion before she reached over and snatched the parchment from the table.
Ghislaine's eyes diligently scanned the document, zeroing in on the declaration on behalf of Zekram Bael, the surviving Tribunes, and every Prefect in their armed forces. The support for Cedric Kimaris to take up the mantle of Primarch was unquestionable.
"They have, and I am accepting the responsibility of Primarch effective immediately." Cedric returned to the head on the table, pushing aside his chair. "Tomorrow, I depart for Lucifaad to meet the commanding Tribunes with our Legion…."
Cedric's gaze swept over Arwen and his siblings. "….As discussed, Arwen will remain here to look after the children and the territory as head Matriarch. Elerin, Ghislaine, and Jade will accompany me to Acheron."
Acheron is the foremost territory held by the rebellion, acting as their forward operating base for coordinated assaults aimed at the loyalist capital, Lucifaad.
The fighting inside those territories was some of the fiercest in the war. Towns and provinces were changing hands daily, and the casualties were skyrocketing on both sides.
Cyrus's musing was interrupted by Ghislaine's sudden declaration.
"We should take Cyrus with us." Her statement drew a raised eyebrow from Cyrus. She disregarded the incensed grimace from Ashara and Arwen. Both had different reasons to protest Ghislaines suggestion, but Cedric was the only one she had to convince.
"And why should I bring a child to the frontlines of a civil war, Ghislaine?"
"Because he just unlocked our ancestral power, and as recent events have shown, Cyrus needs a teacher."
"The twins or Ashara, alongside Arwen, can handle his education." Cedric's retort was well-founded, so she attempted a different approach.
"That is true, but we are the only ones who can handle him if he goes off the rails." Cedric paused in thought, barring Arwen, the twins and Ashara froze under Cyrus's potent demonic energy.
Arwen would have her hands full containing him if he lost his composure during training. A furtive glance towards Elerin earned him a sharp nod from his first wife.
The relationship between Arwen and Cyrus had taken a tremendous turn for the worst, and his wife did not trust his safety to anyone here.
Not even her sister.
"Fine." Cedric exhaled through his nose. "We'll bring him along, but while we are there, Cyrus is your responsibility Ghislaine."
Ashara's snort of outrage drew Cedric's attention.
She pushed off her seat and placed both hands on the table with barely concealed resentment. She had been pushing for weeks to join her father but was denied every opportunity.
"May I be excused?" It didn't take a genius to realize why she was furious, but Ashara was not blinded by rage to foolishly challenge her father.
"You may." She wasted little time exiting the chamber, ignoring the half-a-dozen eyes glued to her back in concern. "Arwen?"
"Come along, you two." The Matriarch received the unspoken demand and dragged the twins off to bed, shooting Cyrus a missive glance before following in her irate daughter's footsteps.
This did not go as expected.
l==l
Hours later, Cyrus found himself pacing anxiously inside his room while Ghilsaine watched in mild amusement.
Their father quickly dismissed them before Cyrus could speak to him regarding their…..situation. Jade had enough of Ghislaine and her antics for the night, retreating to her room and leaving Cyrus to contend with their vexing sibling.
"Cyrus," Ghislaine wistfully curled into his bed. "Come to bed already, your making too much noise right now."
He shot an annoyed glance at his overtly erotic half-sibling.
Ghislaine's Nekoshou traits covered most of her bare skin, but there were still patches exposed enough to inform Cyrus that she was, in fact, naked.
Damn devils and their severe disregard for tact.
If she wasn't warming Jade's bed or vice versa, she would pull a poor servant or guardsman to spend the night with her. Most of the time, it was little more than a spooning session with rare occurrences of carnal pursuit.
Ghislaine's lust was her most potent sin and was second only to Jade's. Cyrus didn't even want to entertain the major sin of his younger siblings entering his brain. He would rather be left ignorant of that knowledge for as long as possible.
"If you desire silence that much, I'm sure Jade would be more than willing to open her door to you." Ghislaine rolled her eyes at Cyrus's callous retort.
"Don't wanna." Her pettiness earned her a groan of frustration. "Now, come to bed already. I can taste your uncertainty, and sleep can do you well."
"I just came off a two-day coma, Ghislaine." Cyrus shot back harshly. "I don't exactly need more sleep."
What he needed was to resolve this tension coursing through his body, and the only possible way to do that was by exerting his frustrations in the training room. Ashara was undoubtedly still destroying everything in her path, and right now, Cyrus figured she could use a living outlet rather than a fake one.
Besides, he still needed to mend their relationship, and resolving their issues sooner rather than later was better for everyone.
Cyrus took no more than two steps towards the door before a warm hand snatched his shoulder. Ghislaine slithered her way from his bed and nicked him off his feet, sending him flying backward onto his bed.
A weight settled on his lower stomach, and a pair of well-built corded thighs trapped his arms against his side. Cyrus briefly struggled against Ghislaine's anaconda grip before relenting with a muted curse.
His unaugmented body and the severe lack of physical training left him at his sister's mercy. Cyrus didn't particularly enjoy this conclusion, but Ghislaine's cheshire grin left little doubt that she did.
"Trust me, pumpkin." Her silky voice brushed against his right ear as she pressed her sizable chest against him. "She doesn't want to see you right now."
"And you know this how?" Cyrus countered with an edge to his voice.
"Are you serious right now?" Ghislaine leaned back with a bemused expression. "I'm an empath who can feel her fury whenever she thinks of you. Along with a tidge of lust."
Cyrus didn't quite catch the last part of her sentence, but he didn't care. He was devising a strategy to free himself of this very uncomfortable position.
Ghislaine took notice of his less-than-pleased expression and the rising increase in wrath. Cyrus was a devil whose anger could devour whole cities if left unchecked, so she steadfastly disagreed with any notion of leaving him behind.
Ghislaine is the only one capable of forcibly calming him down.
The Nekoshu focused a share of her life energy directly into her palms. The essence spread to each of her fingers, exhuming a light blue substance filled with her inner tranquility.
Ghislaine pushed her aura into Cyrus's body with practiced ease, snuffing out his wrath with a tidal wave of harmony.
The tension in his nerves gradually dissipated, and Cyrus felt a calming sensation overtake him. This feeling was quickly replaced by shame, and Ghislaine felt his whirling emotions change hands again.
Her brother was an…..oddity, but this revelation was not new because of her mastery of senjutsu.
Senjutsu is the power to control the very flow of life energy and ki in sentient beings. Utilizing it can strengthen an operator's internal and external bodies or cause vegetation around them to bloom or wither.
It also allowed Ghislaine to sense the auras of other living creatures without excessive effort, and Cyrus's ambiance was damn near foreign to her senses.
His very existence was an enormous oddity that piqued Ghislaine's inquisitive nature because Cyrus's soul was older than it should be. And as she stared into his diligent crimson orbs, she found the same level of intelligence that made her curious and momentarily petrified Jade.
The question regarding Cyrus's foreign nature was tabled due to his otherwise subdued personality.
She made up her own excuses in time, but with his sudden outburst and her father's severe distaste for the truth.
Ghislaine knew how to uncover the silent truth.
She hoped that Cyrus wouldn't hate her for it.
The hybrid's lithe hands settled on his shoulders, and Cyrus's eyes twinkled in confusion.
"What are you doing?" Confusion momentarily replaced fear as Ghislaine gradually leaned forward again, molding her full body weight against him.
"You'll find out soon enough." She stated promptly without worry, completely contrasting with Cyrus's rising heartbeat.
The apprehension coursing through his veins was quickly consumed by bewilderment as Ghislaine's near-permanent sultry lips embraced his own set. An involuntary gasp allowed her to explore his inner cavity, but this carnal moment had its purpose.
Her senjutsu intertwined their auras, linking the siblings as one beating heart. Distant memories from another life flashed at the front of Ghislaine's mind.
The Nekoshu's exploration of Cyrus's soul felt eerily like an invasive surgery, and as his sister approached a cherished memory, the Spartan inside him lashed out.
Ghislaine was ill-prepared for his retribution. Cyrus snaked his arm free of her ensnarement and pulled the back of her white mane hair.
Cyrus flexed his hips and rolled her over. A shriek of fear fell from her lips as his hand snatched the dagger hidden beneath his bed.
The Headhunter placed the blade just below her chin, and for the barest moment, Ghislaine felt dread overtake her.
The fury in Cyrus's crimson orbs wasn't the same madness she had experienced two days earlier. In that incensed gaze was the same cold, calculating persona she had seen when they welcomed a new member to House Kimaris.
Demon.
This was the only time Ghislaine experienced real unadulterated fear over her centuries-spanning lifetime.
Cyrus was not a Devil to be trifled with.
Because buried beneath that persona of tolerance and unending patience is an uncompromising killer whose iron-clad resolve is second to none.
On that night, the Headhunter awoke from his self-imposed slumber, and if Ghislaine wasn't careful, she would be the first of many to feel the extent of his fury.