Review Time:
Thank you all for your collective appreciation and compliments for the series!
RandomName41: Francesco and Zepar (and Francesco's mother) are one of my more well loved fan-made OC's out there; also due to the notion we get to see more Goetians in their natural habitat ha-ha!
Harry Potter: Goetian Beginnings
Chapter 2: Duties and Responsibilities
Stolas's Study, Goetian Palace
July 26, 1990
In the quiet solitude of his study, Stolas considered the future. There, among ancient texts and scrolls, he prepared for what lay ahead. His daughter Octavia, ever the diligent daughter, would also be a part of this journey. He knew that she was capable and would rise to the challenge if need be. If anything were to happen to him, if he were to meet an untimely end, Octavia would be there to take her place in the family as Princess and guide Octavius to understanding his roles as she did.
The room now was a bibliophile's paradise, filled from floor to ceiling with countless books of every possible genre and subject. Tonight, his focus was on one particular subject — Divination. A wooden table in the middle of the room was already laden with several tomes, their spines worn from years of use and their pages filled with valuable insights and predictions. Some of the books were ancient, their pages yellowed with age, while others were newer, their spines barely cracked.
Stolas moved around the room with a purpose, his eyes scanning the bookshelves as he selected the books for his children. His hand hovered over one book, then another, his touch gentle as if handling a precious artifact. He selected each book with care, considering its content and relevance to the lessons he planned to impart.
Gazing at the collection of books, many penned by the great King Solomon himself, he knew that they held the key to a world of knowledge, not just for Octavia, but for Octavius as well. Stolas had always shared a special bond with his little Starfires, bonds that was based on mutual respect and love for knowledge. Stolas held these books in high regard. To him, they were not merely collections of words, but vessels of wisdom, carrying the profound insights of a man who had once been renowned for his intelligence and discernment. These were the books that he hoped would inspire Octavius and Octavia, guiding them towards a deeper understanding of the Goetic world and their roles within it.
The text within these books was dense, filled with cryptic symbols and complex diagrams. Each page held a wealth of knowledge, chronicling Solomon's observations on everything from the movement of the stars to the intricate workings of the human mind. His words were a testament to his wisdom, offering glimpses into his understanding of the universe.
Stolas knew that these books would not be easy for his children to comprehend. The concepts within them were complex, and the language was archaic. But he also knew that his children were capable. They had his blood running through their veins, and with it, a thirst for knowledge and a desire to understand the universe surrounding them.
His lessons for Octavia and Octavius were expansive and rigorous, covering an impressive array of subjects. His approach was methodical, taking nothing for granted, and ensuring that his children were equipped with the knowledge they would need to navigate their world. He was a renowned scholar of the arcane arts, and he ensured that his children were well versed in these esoteric disciplines. Lessons were interactive and hands-on. They learned not just to cast spells, but to understand the theory and principles behind each incantation, the essence of magic itself. Stolas taught them the importance of intent and focus, how to channel their energies, and the significance of each incantation movement. They learned the art of non-verbal and item-casting magic, advanced skills that required complete control and absolute concentration.
As a botanical expert, Stolas imparted his vast knowledge of magical and mundane plants to his children. They learned about the unique properties of various flora, how to care for them, and how to utilize them in potions and other magical concoctions. Octavia and Octavius were taught to respect the power and potential that lay in the natural world; which related to their respect for magical creatures in the same right.
In due part to his role in the family, Stolas was a celestial scholar, his knowledge of the cosmos unparalleled. He guided Octavia and Octavius through the vast expanses of the universe, teaching them to navigate by the stars, and understand the movements of celestial bodies. Lessons in Astronomy were not just about knowledge, but about perspective, understanding their place in the cosmos and in the family that coursed through them.
Even in a world of magic, Stolas valued the lessons of the hard sciences. He believed that a true scholar must be well-rounded, understanding not just the mystical, but the scientific as well. Physics, chemistry, and biology became staples of their education. They learned about the fundamental laws that governed their world, both magical and non-magical. This knowledge, Stolas taught, was not separate from magic, but intertwined with it, two sides of the same coin.
However, Stolas still considered how Octavius would be able to handle the discovery of his true origins... a thought that crossed him even as he stacked books together. Yet, there was more than just the potential of their minds at stake. His transformation of the infant into Octavius had altered the course of their lives, and his own, in a way. He had made a bold decision, one that might not be understood, or even accepted, by his father or others in their society.
But Stolas was unafraid. He knew the depth of the Goetian blood that now coursed through Octavius' veins, binding him to their lineage, and he was prepared to stand by his decision, to defend it against any who might oppose. He had ensured that Octavius was his son, not just in name, but in blood and spirit.
As he reflected on the path that lay ahead, his thoughts turned to Octavia. She had always been his comet, his constant in an ever-changing world. He knew that she would be there for Octavius, just as he would be there for her. And he found comfort in this thought.
It was then that stepped back from the table, Stolas couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It was not just the satisfaction of a task well done, but also the anticipation of seeing his children grow and evolve, guided by the knowledge contained within these books. His heart swelled with paternal pride, and he knew then that Via and Oct were ready for the next phase of their education.
Teashop, Imp City
July 26, 1990
The teashop nestled within the bustling Imp City was a symphony of warmth, laughter, and clinking teacups. Octavius, Octavia, Dusk, Noctus, and Gylfie had already gathered there, each bringing a unique character to the eclectic mix.
Dusk lounged comfortably, his sly wit and charm adding a lively spark to the atmosphere. Nearby, Noctus added a serene contrast, his quiet demeanor and fascinating stories of the Goetian legions painting a different shade of excitement. At the heart of the group was Gylfie, her hearty laughter punctuating the air. As the daughter of a Duke and the only other female besides Octavia, her fiery spirit and rebellious streak set a vibrant tone.
Seated at the head of the table was Octavius, the leader, and the true heart of their group. His sister, Octavia, sat next to him, her graceful demeanor and quiet dignity a testament to their noble lineage.
As the group engaged in conversation, the teashop door swung open with a soft jingle. Francesco, the parrot demon and son of Duke Zepar, strolled in. His rebellious nature was well-known, and his scandalous associations made him a figure of intrigue within Goetia.
Francesco made his way through the teashop, his gaze finding the group at a table in the back. He approached, pulling out a chair and settling into it. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of curiosity as he addressed Octavius.
"I appreciate the invite, but I have to ask – why am I here?"
Octavius regarded Francesco with a steady gaze. His voice was calm, his words deliberate. "We all have a role to play, Francesco. As we navigate our society, it's important that we understand each other, find common ground."
The atmosphere grew thick with anticipation, the clinking of teacups and the murmur of conversation creating a backdrop to their interaction.
Francesco leaned back in his chair, studying Octavius with a thoughtful look. "So, it's about unity, is it? Bringing together the different... perspectives of Goetia."
Octavius nodded. "That's part of it. But it's also about understanding. We are all different, Francesco. Each of us brings something unique to the table, and it's only by acknowledging and respecting these differences that we can truly move forward."
Francesco quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. "And you believe I have something unique to contribute?"
Octavius's gaze was steady. "Absolutely. Your connections, your viewpoint, your... unconventional approach. They are valuable, Francesco."
Dusk chuckled from the side, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "He's saying you cause enough trouble to shake things up, Francesco."
Gylfie laughed at this, her voice ringing out in the teashop. "And that's exactly what we need. A good shake-up."
Noctus and Octavia remained silent, their expressions thoughtful.
Francesco couldn't help but smirk at Dusk's comment, his gaze flicking to each member of the group. "A shake-up, huh? Well, I suppose I'm good at causing a ruckus. But I'm curious, Octavius, what's your endgame here?"
Octavius paused, considering Francesco's question. His gaze drifted to his tea cup, the steam curling upwards in gentle spirals. "I don't claim to have all the answers, Francesco. But what I do know is that change is necessary. We can't continue as we are, divided and entrenched in old traditions. My... our goal, is to bring about a shift, to make Goetia a place where everyone has a voice, where we can all coexist without the weight of old prejudices."
Francesco considered Octavius's words, his gaze pensive. "A noble goal, indeed. And how do you propose we do that?"
Before Octavius could answer, Gylfie chimed in, "By doing exactly what we're doing now. Communicating. Understanding each other. Challenging the norms."
Francesco turned to look at Gylfie, a slow smile spreading on his face. "Challenging the norms... I can definitely get on board with that."
"I think what's most important," he began, his voice steady, "is that we remember the value of friendship, of investing in our collective future. It's not just about shaking up the status quo or challenging norms, it's about building a society where we all have a place, where we all matter. It's about creating a future where we're not just surviving, but thriving together."
He turned to Francesco, his gaze sincere. "And Francesco, despite your reputation," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "I find you to be good company. You bring a different perspective, a different energy to our group. And that's important. We're not looking for uniformity, we're looking for unity in diversity. That's where our strength lies."
Francesco's eyes widened slightly at Octavius's words, but then he smiled, a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day where I'm appreciated for my... disruptive tendencies. But I appreciate your words, Octavius. And I agree. Here's to investing in our future."
The others echoed Francesco's sentiment, raising their teacups in a silent toast.
The conversation was interrupted by a deep, booming laugh that echoed through the teashop. All eyes turned to the source of the disturbance - a large figure standing at the entrance.
King Vine, an Earl and also a King of Hell, strode into the shop. His body was massive, with broad, powerful shoulders and a height that dwarfed the other patrons in the teashop. His plumage was a mix of deep black and brilliant gold, the colors merging and contrasting to create a pattern that was both stunning and intimidating. His feathers intricately detailed and shimmering with a metallic sheen under the light.
His face was sharp and angular, with piercing yellow eyes that glowed with an unsettling intensity. A curved beak, reminiscent of a bird of prey, added to his imposing look. His talons were like the claws of a great eagle, sharp and deadly.
Despite his menacing appearance, there was an undeniable sense of elegance and majesty to him. His bearing was that of a seasoned warrior and a seasoned leader, one who had seen the rise and fall of legions and had weathered countless storms.
"Well, well, well," Vine said, his voice filled with mocking amusement. "What do we have here? A gathering of Goetia's youth discussing our future? How... quaint."
His eyes swept over the group, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. "And you, Octavius, leading this little assembly? Preaching about unity, friendship, and the future? Fascinating."
The laughter that followed was filled with derision, the sound echoing sharply against the walls of the teashop. "The naivety of the next generation never fails to amuse me," he declared, crossing his arms over his chest. "You believe that alliances and friendships will reshape Goetia? That these will hold more power than fear and brute force?"
He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "The world isn't as kind as you'd like it to be, young Octavius. Power and fear, those are the true rulers here. Not friendship, not alliances."
Octavius held King Vine's gaze, his expression calm and unyielding amidst the scornful laughter. The silence that followed Vine's words was electric, the tension palpable as the teashop waited for his response. When he spoke, his voice was steady and resolute, the words echoing with the wisdom of the ancients.
"King Vine," he began, his tone steady, "your words reflect the principles that have long guided Goetia. Power and fear as tools of control. It's a strategy well documented in our history. But it's not the only strategy."
He allowed his gaze to sweep over his assembled friends, their silent support fueling his resolve, before he returned his focus to Vine. "In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity. Chaos, fear, power - they can breed opportunity, but so can unity, alliances, and strength." His gaze never wavered from Vine's, his voice steady as he continued. "We believe it is time for Goetia to adapt, to consider new strategies, to leverage the power of alliances and unity."
Octavius leaned forward slightly, his words clear and firm. "We are not turning a blind eye to the harsh realities of our world, King Vine. Instead, we are choosing to apply different strategies, to seek power in unity rather than fear. Because we understand that the first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him."
He sat back, a silent challenge hanging in the air. "We are not naive, King Vine. We know how Hell works."
The young Goetian could only get so much of his words placed before the King, before the towering eagle uttered a laugh of mockery and scorn for the boy. "You dare quote human words and expect them to guide how I think or consider your intentions differently? Why don't you bring your own words and speak with crass, seeing as you are intending on booring me with idealistic fantasies." He asked, bringing the point to discussion.
Octavius watched as King Vine laughed, his scornful words echoing through the teashop. The young demon remained undeterred, his gaze steady as he waited for the laughter to subside. When he spoke again, his voice was calm but firm, a clear contrast to the elder demon's derision.
"King Vine," he said, "I didn't quote human strategists to change your thinking, but to broaden the conversation. They offer perspectives that can be relevant even to Goetia. And as for my own words..."
He paused, meeting Vine's gaze directly. "Here they are, in all their crassness. We are not naive idealists. We understand the harsh realities of Goetia, the power struggles, the fear, the ruthlessness. We don't deny them, we confront them."
He gestured to his friends, his voice growing more resolute. "Look at us, King Vine. We are not just a group of young demons. We are allies, we are united, and we are strong. We're not just dreaming of change, we're working for it."
His words rang out in the quiet teashop, a clear challenge to the elder demon. "You're right, words alone are not enough. But they're a start. And trust me, we have more than just words. We have resolve, we have strength, and we're ready to prove it."
He leaned back, his gaze never wavering from Vine's. "And as for boring you... well, I'm afraid that's something you'll have to deal with. Because we're not going anywhere. Good day sir," Octavius replied in a nod.
In the wake of Octavius's words, a silence descended upon the teashop. The patrons seemed to hold their collective breath, their attention riveted on the confrontation between the young Goetian and the King. King Vine himself was silent, his piercing gaze remaining fixed on Octavius.
Then, slowly, a smirk appeared on the King's beak, the glint in his eyes suggesting a newfound respect for the young demon. "Very well, Octavius," he said, his voice echoing in the hushed room. "I look forward to seeing just how far this resolve of yours will take you. Prove your strength, show me this change you speak of. I will be watching."
With that, King Vine unfolded himself and swept out of the teashop, leaving behind an air of anticipation and an unspoken challenge. The room remained quiet for a moment longer, before the chatter gradually resumed, the patrons whispering among themselves about the exchange they had just witnessed.
Octavius and his group were left at their table, the weight of King Vine's words hanging heavily in the air. But instead of being daunted, they seemed more determined than ever, their resolve strengthened by the encounter.
Francesco had been silent throughout the exchange, observing with sharp eyes as Octavius stood his ground against King Vine. As the King departed, leaving a charged silence in his wake, Francesco was the first to break it.
He leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That... was unexpected," he said, his voice filled with a curious mix of amusement and respect. "I've seen demons cower before Vine, but you, Octavius... you didn't just stand up to him, you challenged him." He humored.
Octavia had been quiet throughout the confrontation, her gaze never leaving her brother. Now, as Francesco finished speaking, she turned her attention to him. There was a small smile playing on her lips, her eyes reflecting a warmth that hadn't been there before.
"Francesco," she began, her voice gentle but firm, "I couldn't agree more. This is uncharted territory, and it's not going to be easy. But if there's one thing I've learned from my brother, it's that nothing worth having comes easy."
Octavius's gaze met Octavia's, a warmth spreading through him at her words. He had always admired his sister's strength and determination, and her show of support meant more to him than she could know.
"Octavia," he began, his voice filled with gratitude. "Having you by my side, sharing this vision, means everything to me. We have our work cut out for us, and there's no one I'd rather have with me in this fight than you."
He turned to Francesco, including him in his response. "And you, Francesco, your support is invaluable. Your words today have only solidified my belief in this path we've chosen."
He raised his cup, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn. "To unity, alliances, and strength."
His toast echoed through the teashop, a reaffirmation of their commitment and a promise of their resolve. As he looked at his sister and his friends, Octavius knew that, no matter what challenges they faced, they would face them together. And that gave him more confidence than any amount of power or prestige ever could.
Stella's Chambers, Goetia Palace
July 26, 1990
Not long after the encounter at the teashop, Octavius and Octavia found themselves standing before their mother, Stella. Her eyes were as cold as the icy-white feathers on her skin, and her voice was sharp with disapproval.
"Challenging a King of Goetia in a public teashop," she began, her voice ringing out in the quiet of their family home. "You two have certainly outdone yourselves this time."
Stella paced before them, her gaze sharp. "Octavius, Octavia, you are not just any demons of the rabble. You are my children, and that comes with responsibilities. Your actions have consequences, not just for you, but for our entire family." She stated, an odd thing to speak in her raising of Oct. The relationship between the two had been alien, like Stella handled him differently and harshly. And now this confused him, for so long under her disciplined way, it was an odd thing to do now.
Octavia tried to retort, but Stella cut her off with a swift gesture. "Enough, Octavia. Your brother's words have already done enough damage. I demand better from both of you. You are not mere children, you are the future of our house. Never forget that."
With that stern rebuke, Stella dismissed them, leaving Octavius and Octavia to digest her harsh words. Her message was a stark reminder of the burdens they carried, and the precarious balance they had to uphold within the world of Goetia. Despite their mother's harsh admonishment, she was correct in warning them of the consequences, seeing as there was an open invitation to violence now.
As the echoes of Stella's harsh words still lingered, a summons came from Stolas. The prince of Goetia requested the presence of Octavius and Octavia in his private study - a room filled with ancient tomes, celestial maps, and artifacts that reflected his fascination with the cosmos.
"Via, Oct," Stolas' voice resonated within the grand, starlit chamber. His tone, unlike Stella's, was calm and measured, offering a stark contrast to the frosty reception they had just experienced.
His eyes, a deep shade of blue that mirrored the night sky he so loved, studied his children. He was silent for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "Your mother has informed me about your recent... encounter with King Vine."
Despite his composed demeanor, there was a hint of concern in his voice. Stolas, though as much a part of the Goetian hierarchy as any, had always harbored a softer side for his children. He understood their desires for change, for unity - he himself had often found the strict social structures of Goetia confining. But he also knew the dangers that lay in openly challenging those structures, especially for those of their status.
"Your actions have caused quite a stir," he continued, "but I believe in your intentions. I see the same longing for change in you that I have felt myself. However, we must tread carefully. Our world is not kind to those who upset the status quo."
His words were not a reprimand, but a gentle reminder of the realities of the world they lived in, spoken with a warmth and understanding that their mother's words had lacked. He may not have agreed with their method, but Stolas understood their motive and he wanted them to understand the potential consequences of their actions.
Stolas led Octavia and Octavius into the heart of the grand study, the walls lined with countless books of varying age and topic. At the room's center was a round table, on top of which lay an array of texts related to Divination. The subject was as fascinating as it was controversial, a branch of magic that involved attempting to foresee the future or gather insights into past, present, and future events through various rituals and tools. Stolas turned to face them, his gaze stern and his voice carrying the weight of centuries.
"I have called you here to learn, not to lecture. The knowledge in these books is not to be taken lightly. They hold the key to understanding events above us, and the events that unfold here below."
He picked up a book, its cover adorned with celestial bodies and ancient symbols. "This is the art of Astrology, a type of divination that involves the forecasting of earthly and human events through the observation and interpretation of the fixed stars, the Sun, the Moon, and the planets," he explained, echoing the words in the tome.
"Those born with the rare natural gift for prophecy, Seers, can foresee the future with their Inner Eye. And while not all possess this innate ability, there are divination methods that can be learned and developed with varying degrees of success," he continued, referencing the magical lore of the mortal world.
He then gestured to another pile of books, these ones more intricate and filled with charts and diagrams. "Astrology is a more precise form of divination, focusing on celestial bodies and their influence on our lives. It's believed that an understanding of these influences allows us to both predict and affect the destinies of individuals, groups, and even nations."
Stolas then pointed out of the grand window in the study, where the night sky was visible, filled with stars and celestial bodies. "In the same way that Centaurs have practiced divination for centuries by observing the movement of planets, moons, and stars, we too can gain understanding through this ancient practice," he said, linking their studies to other magical beings.
Stolas paused in his instructions, his gaze turning to a particular tome, larger and more worn than the rest. He moved towards it, his talons carefully tracing the embossed letters on the cover - 'The Key of Solomon'.
"King Solomon," he began, his voice carrying a note of reverence, "was a great king, wise beyond his years, and a master of many arts. But perhaps his greatest achievement was in the realm of the arcane. He had the power to command us, the demons of the Ars Goetia, using knowledge and wisdom rather than brute force. He understood the importance of alliances, of respect, and the value of knowing one's allies - and enemies - deeply."
He opened the tome, revealing pages filled with arcane symbols and ancient scripts. "This book, The Key of Solomon, is said to contain his wisdom, his secrets. It includes the rituals he used to summon and command demons, but also a wealth of knowledge on astrology, divination, and the workings of the universe."
Stolas looked at his children, his gaze intense. "King Solomon understood that knowledge is power. He showed us that it's not about domination or subjugation, but about understanding and cooperation. We, Goetians, were not his enemies or his servants. We were his allies, his partners. And it was this understanding, this mutual respect, that made him truly powerful."
He closed the book, his tone firm. "Remember this as you study these texts. The wisdom of Solomon is not just about commanding others. It's about understanding them, working with them, and forming alliances based on mutual respect and shared goals. This is the way to true power, to true wisdom."
Stolas' words hung heavy in the air, the silence of the study broken only by the soft rustle of pages and the distant hum of Imp City outside. Octavius and Octavia exchanged a brief look, a silent understanding passing between them. This was more than just a lesson. This was a guiding principle, a philosophy to live by.
Octavia was the first to move, her hand reaching out to gingerly touch the ancient cover of 'The Key of Solomon'. Her eyes, a mirror of her father's, were filled with determination and a spark of excitement. This was a challenge, an opportunity to grow and learn. She was always eager to learn more, to understand the world and her place in it.
Octavius followed suit, his gaze thoughtful as he picked up a book on Astrology. He was quieter, more introspective than his sister, but the spark of curiosity was just as bright in his eyes. He was eager to understand, to learn, and to apply this knowledge in his own way.
Together, they began to read, their minds opening to the wealth of wisdom laid out before them. The study was filled with the soft rustling of pages turning, the faint scratching of quills on parchment, and the steady rhythm of two minds at work. The path to wisdom was long and challenging, but they were ready to embark on it. Under the watchful eyes of Stolas, the two siblings dove into the storied tales of time and the perception of it.
Paimon's Throne Room, Unknown Location
July 26, 1990
The throne room of Paimon, one of the Kings of Hell, was a grand spectacle of a recent and certain grandson's activities that stirred the night. It was in this room, filled with a sense of eerie silence, that Lucifer made his unannounced entrance. The heavy doors swung open with a loud creak, drawing the eyes of every demon present in the room towards the towering figure that was Lucifer.
As the towering doors to Paimon's throne room swung open with a resonating crash, all eyes turned to the figure who had so rudely interrupted the gathering. A tall figure, bathed in an infernal aura, strode into the room. The self-proclaimed "King of Hell" entered Paimon's domain with a stricken smile and a crack of a cane. His personality was as flamboyant as it was terrifying.
Paimon, reclining on his throne, looked up from the scroll he was reading. The surprise on his face quickly morphed into a bow of the head. "Lucifer," he greeted, his voice echoing in the large room. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Good day, Paimon," Lucifer greeted, his voice echoing through the grand room. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it. "I trust you've heard about your grandson, Octavius? I must say, he is becoming quite the topic of discussion in Hell."
"Yes, my...grandson," Paimon drawled. "I've heard the rumors. Quite an interesting development, wouldn't you say?"
"I came to ensure that these intriguing events progress... favorably." Lucifer inquired. A subtle curve curled the corners of Lucifer's lips, betraying his intense interest in the affairs of Octavius; more than Paimon's interests in the boy. His gaze, sharp and calculating, remained trained on Paimon, daring the other to challenge his claim.
"Octavius is a unique specimen, a young spark carrying your lineage, Paimon," Lucifer began, his tone casual yet underlined with a quiet intensity. "His recent exploits... the audacity to stand against a King of Goetia in a public setting, and then his sudden immersion into challenging him at such a young age... it's fascinating, don't you agree?"
Paimon shifted in his throne, his eyes meeting Lucifer's unflinchingly. He said nothing, allowing Lucifer to continue.
"The boy is carving a path for himself, and I find it quite entertaining. But beyond that, he's showing promise. One that I believe could be quite useful," Lucifer added, the thrill of the potential within Octavius evident in his voice. "But if he were to be broken, or whipped out of shape in any way by your line, I shall do the same for you if you displease me."
Paimon leaned back in his throne, regarding Lucifer with a thoughtful expression. His brows knitted together as he let out a slow, contemplative hum. The weight of Lucifer's words hung heavy in the air, and Paimon knew better than to displease Lucifer.
"I find your sudden interest in the boy... intriguing," Paimon admitted, his voice calm and measured. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze not leaving Lucifer. "Though I can't help but wonder what exactly you're hoping to achieve by involving yourself in his affairs, especially one so young."
Lucifer still smiled. "Is he? I'm simply curious to see where this path leads him, able to agitate a King so easily is rather amusing. And if my involvement can steer him towards greater heights... well, it would be a shame not to take an interest, wouldn't it?"
There was a moment of silence as Paimon's words hung in the air, punctuating the tension between the two powerful beings. Lucifer's lips curved into a knowing smirk, his eyes twinkling with a mysterious glint.
"Well then," Lucifer replied smoothly, his voice laced with amusement. "I shall be off."
With a final nod, Lucifer turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing through the throne room. "We'll be seeing each other soon, Paimon," he called over his shoulder. "Take care until then."
And with that, Lucifer vanished from the throne room, leaving Paimon alone with his thoughts. The King of Hell stared at the spot where Lucifer had stood, a thoughtful frown on his face. Whatever Lucifer was planning, Paimon knew he would need to be prepared.
Stolas's Study, Goetia Palace
July 26, 1990
Hours turned into night as Octavius and Octavia pored over the ancient texts of divination and astrology that Stolas had presented them. The study room was filled with the soft rustling of pages turning and the occasional murmur as one or the other made a discovery or sought clarification. Tiredness no longer affected the young ones when they were so driven by these insights, leading them into a binge of reading and drinking juice for stimulation.
Octavia was the first to break the silence, her finger tracing an intricate diagram of celestial bodies. "Look at this, Octavius," she murmured, her tone filled with interest. "The positions of the planets, stars, and moons aren't random. They're interconnected, forming a tapestry of cosmic events and influences."
Octavius glanced at the diagram, his eyes narrowing in concentration. He had been reading about the influence of heavenly bodies on earthly affairs, and he was beginning to see the connections. "You're right," he agreed, pointing to the diagram. "See how the movement of Venus is said to influence love and relationships? And Mars, conflict and aggression. It's like a cosmic dance, each planet playing its part."
Octavia nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And it's not just about predicting events," she added. "It's about understanding the nature of the universe and our place in it. It's... humbling."
Meanwhile, Octavius had moved on to another book, this one focusing on divination. He traced the lines of an ancient prophecy, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It says here that divination isn't just about predicting the future," he mused. "It's about understanding the patterns of the past and present, and how they might influence the future. It's a different kind of wisdom, one that requires intuition and insight."
The siblings continued to delve into the mysteries of divination and astrology, their minds filled with newfound knowledge and respect for these ancient practices. It was a long night, but they didn't mind. They were just beginning to scratch the surface of what these arts had to offer. And they knew that with this knowledge, they would be better prepared for whatever the future held.
As Octavius continued reading through the ancient texts on divination, he stumbled upon a curious passage. It spoke of a concept called the 'Third Eye', a spiritual concept often associated with perception beyond ordinary sight. As he delved deeper, he realized that this wasn't about a physical eye, but a metaphorical one. It was about attuning one's mind and spirit to the unseen patterns and energies of the world, allowing one to perceive things that were usually hidden.
Intrigued, Octavius read on, learning that the Third Eye wasn't something that could be forced open through sheer will or spellcasting. Instead, it required a deep sense of inner calm and balance, achieved through meditation and a profound understanding of oneself and the universe.
The text provided a simple exercise to start awakening the Third Eye: a meditative practice focused on self-awareness and mindfulness. Intrigued, Octavius decided to give it a try.
He settled himself in a comfortable position, allowing his body to relax. He closed his eyes, focusing his mind inward. He paid attention to his breathing, feeling the air filling his lungs and then leaving them, grounding him in the present moment.
As he delved deeper into this meditative state, Octavius began to feel a strange sensation. It was as if he was peeling away the layers of his perception, reaching a place of clarity and understanding that he'd never experienced before. His mind felt open, expansive, filled with a sense of wonder and possibility.
The world around him, which had been silent before, seemed to come alive. He could sense the energy of the universe, the ebb and flow of celestial forces, the faint whispers of the future. It was overwhelming, yet exhilarating.
Unknown Location
Unknown Time (Future)
When Octavius finally opened his eyes, he felt different. Seated in the silence of the study, Octavius allowed his strange sense to wander, to delve into the complex tapestry of time and fate. A sensation of shifting, like the world around him was a gigantic kaleidoscope, washed over him. He was no longer in the study; his mind was somewhere else, somewhere in the future.
His perception settled, and he found himself looking at an older version of himself. His future self was standing tall and commanding, his presence exuding an aura of power and authority that Octavius found both familiar and strangely unsettling. He was facing a man who was the stark contrast of him: a man who seemed to have seen better days.
The man was scrawny, almost skeletal, with a nervous twitch to his hands that hinted at a life steeped in fear and uncertainty. His hair was sparse, clinging to his scalp like patches of dead grass on barren soil. His eyes were like those of a cornered rat, wide with terror and darting around in a desperate search for escape.
In the hand of Octavius' future self was a pistol, a cold piece of machinery that gleamed under the dim light. He aimed it at the scrawny man with a steady hand, a grim determination etched on his face. The older human would be described as balding, with only a few strands of dirty, grayish hair left on his head. His skin was very pale, and his fingers are long and slimy, like a rat's.
There was a moment of intense silence, where the only sounds were the ragged breaths of the terrified man and the cold wind whistling through the cracks of the dilapidated building they were in. Then, Octavius' future self spoke, his voice like the final toll of a death knell, "This is the end of the road for you. Voldemort's time will come, but your use has ended."
In the final moments of the man's scrawny little life, Octavius's face would shimmer and reveal a human boy's face, one of murderous anger, glasses, and a scar on his head. "I want you to know it was me." Octavius's future self growled; changing back to his Goetic form.
All the man could wheeze was "Harry," in a shock of his bloodied eyes.
Before the man could utter a plea, Octavius' future self pulled the trigger. The pistol roared, and the man's body jerked violently as the bullet found its mark. He fell to the ground, a life extinguishing. The young owl could see his older self pulling the trigger five more times before a 'click' sound prevented him from shooting more times.
The scene was brutal, cold, and swift. Octavius, watching the scene unfold, felt a chilling sensation run down his spine. The future he was witnessing was grim, a harsh contrast to the peaceful surroundings of the study he was currently in. But even as he recoiled from the brutality of the scene, a part of him also felt a strange sense of resolve. This was a potential future, one of many, and it was up to him to shape the course of his destiny.
Stolas's Study, Goetia Palace
July 26, 1990
Suddenly, Octavius was yanked back to reality. The vision he had been so engrossed in faded, leaving only the ordinary surroundings of the study room. His heart pounded in his chest as he sat back in his chair, his mind racing to process what he had just seen.
His eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim light of the room. He looked around, noting the scattered divination books, the flickering candlelight, and the myriad astrological charts on the walls. He took a deep breath, the scent of parchment and old books filling his nostrils.
Across from him, Octavia stirred, breaking from her own vision-induced trance. Her eyes, previously lost in the distance, refocused and met Octavius's gaze. It was clear from her expression that she too had witnessed something profound, something that had shaken her to her core.
For a moment, they simply sat there, both trying to make sense of what they had seen. Octavius reached out, laying a comforting hand on Octavia's arm.
Octavia, still visibly shaken, managed a nod in response to Octavius's silent reassurance. She bit her lip, a clear indication of her unease. She blinked a few times, as though attempting to rid her mind of the images that had infiltrated it.
Finally, after a long silence, she spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I saw... I saw something, Octavius. Something terrible."
She swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the edge of the divination book before her. Her eyes, usually so full of determination and confidence, now mirrored the fear and uncertainty that Octavius had felt upon witnessing his own vision.
"I don't know if it was real, or if it was just... just a vision," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "But it felt so real... So terrifyingly real."
Octavia took a deep breath, steadying herself before she spoke again. "In my vision... I was searching for Father, but he was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had just vanished, disappeared without a trace."
She closed her eyes, as if the memory of the vision was too painful to recall. "I searched everywhere, every room, every corner, but... there was nothing. It was as if he had never been there to begin with."
Her hands clutched the book even tighter, her knuckles turning white. "I don't know what it means, Octavius. I don't know if it's a prediction, a warning, or just... a nightmare. But it felt so real, and I can't shake off the feeling of dread that came with it."
She opened her eyes, looking at Octavius with a vulnerability that he had rarely seen in his sister. "I don't know what to make of it, Octavius. But I know one thing for sure. We need to prepare ourselves, for whatever the future might hold."
Octavia looked at her brother, her eyes probing, curious. "And what about you, Octavius? What did you see in your vision?"
Octavius drew a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. The vision had shaken him, left him feeling cold and empty. He had seen a future where he was a killer, a future that was hard to reconcile with the person he was now.
"I... I saw myself," he started, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I was older, different... colder. There was a man, a scrawny, rat-like man, and I... I was pointing a gun at him. And then..." He gulped, the words sticking in his throat. "And then I killed him. I executed him in cold blood."
Octavia's eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening slightly. Octavius continued, "And there was a name... a name that seemed to echo through the vision. Voldemort."
Octavia remained silent for a moment, processing the information. She looked at Octavius, her eyes filled with worry and disbelief. "You...you killed someone?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering as she seemed to wrestle with a thought. "Do you think...could our visions be related, Octavius?" she asked. "I mean, you saw yourself confronting this...Voldemort, and I couldn't find father. Could these events be...connected somehow?"
She looked at him intently, hoping for an answer that would make sense, hoping for a clue that would help them decipher these cryptic glimpses into the future. Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of their revelations heavy in the silence that followed.
Octavius met her gaze, understanding the fear and uncertainty that clouded her eyes. He took a deep breath, formulating his words carefully.
"You might be right, Octavia," he admitted. "Our visions could be interrelated. But remember, these are just visions, possibilities of what might occur in the future. They're not set in stone."
He reached across the table, placing his hand over hers in a comforting gesture. "What we saw... it's information, and information is power. If anything, these visions have given us a glimpse into what could happen, which means we have the opportunity to change it."
His eyes softened as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll figure this out, together. We always do."
With a soft nod, Octavia moved from her seat, crossing the small distance between them. She wrapped her arms around Octavius, pulling him into a tight, comforting embrace. The warmth of the hug was a silent promise, a reassurance that no matter what the future held, they would face it together. She buried her face in his shoulder, taking solace in his presence.
"We always do," she echoed his words, her voice barely above a whisper. Despite the uncertainty of their visions, Octavia found strength in their bond.
Pulling back slightly from the embrace, Octavia looked up at her twin with a determined expression. "I have an idea," she said, her voice steady and sure. She let go of Octavius, stepping back to give herself some space. The light from the room's lanterns illuminated her face, highlighting the resolve etched into her features. Her eyes, bright and determined, met Octavius's gaze.
Hellhound Orphanage, Imp City
July 27, 1990
In the grim and bleak confines of the Hellhound Orphanage, Loona found herself inconsolable. Misery washed over her like a relentless tide, her woeful cries echoing off the cold, stone walls. A sorrowful melody, it was a stark reminder of her situation, a hellhound without a pack, an orphan without a home.
The orphanage was filled with others of her kind, each one carrying their own burden of pain. Yet, none dared approach Loona, for her grief was a tempest, ferocious and unforgiving. Her eyes, filled with an intense rage and despair, were a clear warning to any who dared cross her path.
With every tear that traced a path down her face, her frustration grew. A growl rumbled in her chest, the canine equivalent of a sob, before it erupted into a fierce snarl. Her hackles raised, she lashed out at anyone who ventured too close, her sharp claws and teeth a stark threat. Each scuffle, each show of aggression, was her way of fighting off the hurt, the loneliness that consumed her.
Yet, beneath the tough exterior, a glimmer of vulnerability peeked through. As she sat alone, licking her wounds and nursing her bruised ego, her gaze would often stray to the world beyond the confines of the orphanage. A world that she longed to explore, a world where she hoped she might find a place where she truly belonged. But for now, she was a hellhound without a home, her heart filled with an aching loneliness that no amount of fighting could quell.
Just as Loona was settling into another bout of sorrowful solitude, the heavy wooden doors of the orphanage swung open. A sharp creak echoed through the somber space, drawing the attention of every resident. Strutting in with an air of misplaced confidence was a peculiar figure, an imp with a vibrant red eye named Blitzo.
Blitzo surveyed the room, his singular eye moving from one hellhound to the next, assessing each one with a discerning gaze. Yet, it was the sight of Loona, huddled in the corner, her body wrapped protectively around herself, that caused him to pause. There was a rawness about her, a fierce spirit simmering beneath the surface that piqued his interest.
With a determined stride, Blitzo approached Loona, the clatter of his boots against the stone floor filling the silent room. The orphanage staff watched apprehensively, their eyes darting between the approaching imp and the notorious hellhound.
Ignoring the wary glances, Blitzo squatted down to Loona's level, his gaze softening as he studied her. He reached out a hand, not to pet her, but to offer a gesture of understanding. "You're a feisty one, aren't ya?" he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I like that. I think you and I could... yeah, we could work with that."
Turning to the stunned staff, Blitzo declared his choice, "I'll take her. She's got spunk, and I can always use more of that in my line of work."
And so, in the most unexpected of circumstances, Loona found herself chosen, not because of her aggression, but because of the spirit that fueled it. For the first time in a long while, the Hellhound Orphanage was filled not with the sound of sorrowful cries or the clash of conflict, but with the stunned silence of surprise, and for Loona, a flicker of hope.
Suddenly, the air in the room tensed, and a low hum filled the space. Everyone, Blitzo included, turned their attention toward the center of the room where a swirling vortex of dark energy had materialized. It pulsed with an eerie, otherworldly glow, and the temperature in the room dropped as a chilling wind swept out from it.
With a flash of light and a gust of hot air, three figures stepped out from the portal, their tall, imposing figures casting long shadows on the stone floor. The first was an owl-like demon with royal blue feathers and piercing red eyes. Stolas, one of the Great Princes of Hell, feared and respected in equal measures. The other two, a young owl and owlette, were his children, Octavius and Octavia.
The portal closed behind them with a soft, sucking sound, leaving the room in silence as the onlookers stared at the newcomers in surprise. Stolas swept his gaze around the room, his eyes eventually landing on Blitzo, who was still squatting beside Loona, looking equally shocked.
The sight of Stolas was enough to make even the most hardened Hellhound whimper, and the room descended into a deeper silence, filled only by the soft, fearful whimpers of the hellhounds.
With a dignified air, Stolas straightened up, his tall figure towering over everyone in the room. His gaze lingered on Blitzo for a moment longer before he broke the silence.
"Good day, Blitzo," Stolas greeted in a smooth, deep voice that resonated through the room.
Blitzo, for his part, seemed taken aback by the unexpected greeting. He quickly regained his composure, however, returning the greeting with a curt nod and a cautious, "Stolas." The tension in the room was palpable, but Stolas seemed unperturbed, his focus solely on the task at hand.
Octavia and Octavius, standing side by side, exchanged a glance before turning to the orphanage staff. Octavia cleared her throat, preparing to announce their intention.
"We have come to adopt," she began, her voice steady and clear. "We have chosen fifteen Hellhounds to join us under the Goetic banner." She started to list the names, her gaze passing over the staff and the Hellhounds alike. "Mara, Jinx, Pyro, Obsidian, Fang, Vex, Ember, Orion, Luna, Nova, Onyx, Cinder, Shadow, Raze, and Blaze."
As each name was called out, a different reaction could be seen in the Hellhounds; surprise, confusion, and, in some cases, relief. However, it was Loona's reaction that was perhaps the most striking. She stiffened noticeably, her eyes wide as she looked from Octavia to Octavius and back again. The names that had been called out were the only ones who had ever shown her any kindness in this place. They were the ones who had made her life in the orphanage bearable, and now they were leaving.
Her initial shock quickly morphed into a bright, wide-eyed expression of joy. This wasn't a sentence to servitude; this was adoption. They were being offered a place in a family, a chance to escape the confines of the orphanage and build a new life. As the last name was called, Loona found herself laughing, tears of joy prickling at the corners of her eyes. Her friends were leaving, but not for something worse. They were heading towards a new beginning, a brighter future.
The silence in the room was deafening as Octavia finished the list, the implications of their decision hanging heavy in the air. But there was also a sense of hope, a promise of a new beginning for the chosen Hellhounds. And for Loona, perhaps, a chance to finally escape the misery of the orphanage.
Octavius stepped forward, his gaze steady and reassuring. "Alright, everyone. Let's do this together," he said, his voice commanding yet gentle. He moved through the crowd, stopping before each of the chosen Hellhounds. As he approached each one, he extended a hand, helping them to rise from their seated positions on the cold, hard floor of the orphanage.
Eventually, he reached Loona. She was still huddled in the corner, her eyes wide with disbelief and her body trembling with a mixture of shock and joy. Octavius offered her a warm smile, his eyes glowing with empathy and understanding. He extended his hand towards her.
"Come on, Loona," he said, his voice soft and comforting. "We're all leaving together."
Loona hesitated for a moment, looking around at her friends, her fellow Hellhounds. They were all standing now, looking back at her with encouragement and anticipation. She took a deep breath, then reached out and placed her hand in Octavius's.
With his help, Loona rose to her feet. She stood tall, her posture strong and confident. She glanced around at the other Hellhounds, a slow, genuine smile spreading across her face. They were leaving the orphanage. They were leaving together. And for the first time in a long time, Loona felt hopeful and excitement for what the future held.
Ollo!
I am just going to say my arm hurts from the writing, but I loved your kind words so much that I motivated myself to make another chapter ha-ha! With that being said, here is what I loved about this chapter:
-Meeting Francesco
-The Lucius Malfoy vs Harry Potter scene in another context! (Octavius vs King Vine from the mythos)
-Introducing Lucifer!
-Exploring Divination!
-Doing the sweet murder scene from Vox Machina (this is for the lovers of Critical Role, I am a nerd, and this is the Percy kills Stonefell scene)
-Writing Octavia's nightmare!
-Freeing Loona, introducing Blitz, and doing some necessary therapy for Loona and getting Stolitz together early!
Hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and please don't be afraid to Fav or Follow this story, means a lot!
Thank you for your time,
-True