PSA:

You Lost "The Game"

Review Time:

Sakura Lisel: Understood, thank you for the clarification! If my replies seemed bestranged, I can assure it was a compliment for pointing out a plot hole and making fairer points that I have written myself into. Regarding my classification of critique, I define it as more of a valid and detailed analysis of the work performed and you did good on it!

Criticism is where I draw the line, just look at the reviews of my Halo FanFiction for example. You are better than what has been written to me as a review, and I cherish it. This can be stated for everyone here, y'all treat me better, so I work hard to give you as much as I possibly can before I start my career.

As for your point with Dumbeldore, I have started rereading the HP series again to make sure that mistake is handled with care.

(PS: Kindle Unlimited has all Harry Potter books for free apparently)

RandomName41: I... actually have a plotline for that, actually XD

Gamelover41592 & Muminpappan : Thankies! If you played Hogwarts Legacy or understood the references, the chapter was definitely meant for you XD

A Guest: Yeah... Chapter III is currently a WIP until I find the right workaround for it, future updates will be added to correct the issue!

Nerd King 180: You know, I actually took inspiration from Salem's Monologue from RWBY, which is technically an exchange between two narrative characters. Now you have made me realize I wrote a demonic Hamlet ha-ha!

Dscot: Interesting, I see the opposite happening.

Harry Potter: Goetian Beginnings

Chapter 5: The Game

Hell, a realm where the powerful preyed on the weak and intrigue was as common as the fiery breaths of its denizens. Octavius and Octavia, the siblings of the stars, were active participants in the grand, gruesome spectacle that was Hell's political scene. Whether it was navigating the shifting alliances of the infernal courts, negotiating with the power-hungry dukes and monarchs on VoxTranet, or thwarting assassination plots, they were always in the thick of the action. Despite the inherent perils, they refused to be sidelined, choosing instead to face the challenges head-on.

Guided by their prophetic glimpses into the future, the siblings maneuvered through the perilous labyrinth of infernal politics and power struggles. Their visions provided them with a unique perspective, enabling them to foresee threats and opportunities alike. This insight became their compass, leading them through a deadly dance of diplomacy, deceit, and dominance.

In the Court of Belial, Duke of Deception and Prince of Lies, an assassination attempt was being planned against the Duke Barbatos, an ally of the siblings who shared their interests in maintaining a semblance of balance in Hell. Octavius, using his knowledge of the future, intervened subtly. An anonymous tip led Barbatos to tighten his security and the assassination attempt was foiled, the would-be killers apprehended. All the while, the source of their downfall remained a mystery, a shadowy benefactor known only to Barbatos himself.

Meanwhile, Octavia focused her efforts on protecting those who were often overlooked in the grand machinations of Hell's elite. Hellhound pups, born to a lesser noble and kidnapped for leverage by the ruthless Prince Vapula, were her primary concern. With a strategy that combined clever misdirection, stealth, and a hint of her own formidable power, she infiltrated Vapula's stronghold. The pups were safely returned to their families, and the kidnapping scheme was disrupted without a trace of her involvement... with the help of Octavius's Legionary Inquisition.

In the midst of these daring interventions, the siblings also launched an extensive network of espionage, infiltrating the circles of unsavory nobles like Duke Flauros and Prince Vepar. With the help of loyal and trustworthy demons such as the Duke Gusion, an expert in discerning the truth, they gathered critical information and insight into the true intentions and plans of these nobles.

Octavius and Octavia, their minds still twined in visions, watched events come to them as they continued to reveal the machinations of King Vine. The schemes they saw were as treacherous as they were ambitious, each carefully planned and set into motion with a meticulous precision that spoke of Vine's cunning.

First, they saw Vine's continued attempts to forge an alliance through marriage, through Octavia. He was using his son, Vitis, as bait, seeking to ensnare a powerful family through a strategic matrimonial bond. This plot had been laid with painstaking care, each step planned to maximize the benefits to Vine's house while minimizing any potential risks.

Next, they saw Vine's efforts to sow discord among the other noble houses. Through whispered rumors and carefully planted evidence, he was trying to provoke feuds that would weaken his rivals and make them easier to manipulate. His hope was to create a power vacuum that he could then fill, solidifying his control over Ars Goetia.

Thirdly, they saw Vine's more overt acts of aggression. He was plotting assassinations against those he saw as threats, with the Dukes and Princes who aligned with Octavius and Octavia's initiatives topping his list. Each assassination was designed not just to remove a rival but to serve as a warning to others who might dare to oppose him.

Finally, they saw Vine's plan to increase his influence over the Hellhound packs. He had orchestrated a series of kidnappings, taking young Hellhound children hostage and demanding fealty from their packs in return for their safety. This plot was the most insidious of all, exploiting the fierce loyalty of the Hellhounds to turn them into unwilling pawns in his power games.

It was here that they found their first real move, the lowborns of the Goetian house.

Wrath Ring, Farmstead

June 23rd, 1990

Deep within the Wrath Ring, away from the prying eyes of the noble houses, Octavius and Octavia held a clandestine meeting with a group of lowborn Goetic demons. These were not the stately, powerfully-built figures of the highborn Goetians, but rather, a quiet, unassuming group who bore the appearances of barn owls.

Their feathers were an earthy blend of white and grey, a stark contrast to the vibrant violet hues that marked Octavius and Octavia as members of the Stolas lineage. Their eyes, large and round, glowed with an inner light that spoke volumes of their inherent magical abilities. Despite their low birth, there was an undeniable sense of power about them, a potential that was waiting to be harnessed and directed towards a greater cause.

Octavius and Octavia stood before them, their violet plumes shimmering under the infernal light. Their presence was commanding, a testament to their royal lineage and the respect it commanded. Yet, there was no arrogance or superiority in their demeanors. They treated the lowborn Goetians with respect, understanding that every demon, regardless of their birth, had a role to play in the future of Hell.

The siblings spoke with the group, sharing their visions of a Hell that was united, not divided by petty power struggles. They spoke of a realm where every demon, regardless of their birth, had the opportunity to rise based on their abilities, not their lineage. They spoke of their own actions, their interventions in the assassination attempts, the rescue of the Hellhound children, and their ongoing efforts to counter the manipulations of the noble houses.

The lowborn Goetians listened, their large eyes reflecting the fire of hope that Octavius and Octavia's words ignited. They saw in the siblings' vision a chance for a better future, a chance to break free from the constraints imposed by their low birth. They pledged their loyalty, promising to aid the siblings in their efforts and work towards the realization of their vision.

As Octavius and Octavia looked upon the group of barn owl-like demons, they saw not just allies, but the future of Hell. A future that was inclusive, equitable, and filled with potential.

Octavius stood before the gathered crowd, his violet plumage shimmering in the infernal light, his eyes filled with an intensity that held everyone's attention. He took a moment to look over the assembled Goetians – the highborn and the lowborn, the powerful and the overlooked, all together in this secluded corner of Hell. Then, he began to speak, his voice echoing through the silence, a beacon in the darkness.

"Today, we gather here not as members of different lineages or different ranks," Octavius began, his voice reverberating through the crowd. "Today, we stand here as Goetians, each of us bound by the same demonic heritage, the same infernal blood that courses through our veins."

He let his gaze wander over the crowd, meeting the eyes of each Goetian present. "We may bear different feathers, we may come from different nests, but beneath it all, we are the same. We are all denizens of Hell, all children of the infernal realms."

A murmur ran through the crowd at his words, but Octavius continued, undeterred. "Some of us were born to kings and princes, others to common demons. Some of us have known power and privilege, others hardship and struggle. But that does not define us. Our lineage, our birthright, does not determine our worth."

His voice grew more fervent, more impassioned. "It is not our birth that gives us strength, but our unity. Together, we are more than the sum of our parts. Together, we can face any adversity, withstand any challenge, overcome any obstacle."

He raised his hand, pointing towards the dark expanse of Hell. "The highborn may try to divide us, to pit us against each other. But we must not let them. We must stand together, united in our shared heritage, our shared purpose."

Octavius's voice was a thunderous roar now, a rallying cry that echoed through the ranks of the assembled Goetians. "For we are all Goetians, and we are all worth fighting for. Our unity is our strength. Our unity is our power. Let the highborn see that. Let them see that we are not to be trifled with. Let them see the power of a united Hell."

As Octavius concluded his powerful speech, the barn was filled with cheers and enthusiastic chatter. The energy in the room was palpable, each Goetian inspired by the strength of his words. Among the crowd, four familiar faces started to move towards Octavius and Octavia.

Dusk, with dark feathers that echoed the twilight sky, was the first to reach them. His eyes sparkled with approval. "Well done, Octavius," he commended, a warm chuckle punctuating his words. He offered a friendly wing-pat on the back, a traditional gesture of respect and approval.

Francesco shared a broad grin spreading across his beaked face. "Octavius, Octavia," he began, his voice rich with amusement, "you two certainly know how to captivate an audience. You've got this crowd completely enthralled."

Gylfie clapped in applause. Her voice, soft but steady, mirrored the sentiments of her peers. "You did marvelously," she declared, her eyes sparkling under the dim glow of the barn lights. "You've given them a beacon of hope."

Finally, Noctus gave a nod of approval. The usual sternness in his gaze softened by the evident pride he felt. "Impressive," he acknowledged, a rare compliment from the typically reserved owl. "You've successfully rallied them."

As the group enjoyed their shared moment, the barn came alive with a boisterous celebration. Goetians of all ranks and lineages came together, a sight that defied the strict social structure of Hell. The barn owls, in particular, reveled in the festivities, their lively hoots echoing through the wooden barn as they held a mock royal party.

While the festivities continued, Octavia found herself drawn into a lively dance with Francesco. The barn was filled with an infectious rhythm that pulsed through everyone present. Octavia moved with a grace that belied her young age, her laughter mingling with the music. Francesco matched her step for step, his eyes gleaming with mirth. Their dance was a spectacle in itself, a display of friendship and youthful joy.

Meanwhile, Octavius excused himself from his friends and headed to another group of barn owl demons who were huddled in a corner, seemingly detached from the ongoing merriment. Among them was a noble barn owl named Corvus. Corvus was known for his quiet demeanor and stern gaze, his low lineage apparent in his regal posture and intense gaze.

As Octavius approached them, a murmur of apprehension rippled through the group, their eyes wary. Corvus, however, held his gaze steady on Octavius. "We are not your pawns, Octavius," he stated, his voice cold. "We will not be used in your games of power."

Octavius met Corvus's gaze evenly, a solemn look on his face. He was aware of the whispers, the suspicion, and the mistrust that came with his lineage. "I understand your concern, Corvus," he replied calmly. "I'm aware of the loss your mother suffered, and I am truly sorry. I can only imagine the pain you must feel."

Corvus stiffened at the mention of his mother, his eyes narrowing slightly. However, he remained silent, allowing Octavius to continue.

"I'm not asking you to fight my battles for me, Corvus," Octavius said sincerely. "Rather, I wish to earn your trust and fight alongside you. This path we tread, it's the same for all of us. We are all Goetians, and it's time we stood together, regardless of our birthright."

The silence that followed was deafening, the barn owl demons watching Octavius with renewed interest. Corvus stared at Octavius for a moment longer before he gave a nod, a silent acknowledgment of Octavius's words. The atmosphere lightened slightly, the tension easing as the barn owls returned to their revelry, their conversations a bit more animated.

It wasn't long until something happened.

In moments, a sudden, chilling sensation gripped Octavius and Octavia in the midst of the festivities. Their hearts skipped a beat, their senses going on high alert as they realized what was coming. The air became heavy, the sense of impending danger palpable. They locked eyes, an unspoken understanding passing between them. An assassination attempt was imminent, and they knew who was behind it - Vitis, with a horde of Imps and Hellhounds.

Octavius moved quickly, his royal demeanor replaced by a commanding authority. "Everyone," he called out, his voice cutting through the noise, "we have to evacuate, now!"

A ripple of confusion and panic spread through the crowd, but Octavius didn't allow it to escalate. He swiftly activated a portal, the swirling vortex leading to a safe place - the girls' restroom in Hogwarts.

"Go, now!" Octavia urged, her voice steady despite the fear threatening to take hold. One by one, the barn owl demons began to step through the portal, their faces a mixture of fear and trust as they disappeared into the swirling vortex.

Outside the barn, a cacophony of growls and screeches heralded the arrival of the enemy. Octavius, now donned in his armored robe, staff in hand, stepped out to meet them. His heart pounded in his chest, but his resolve was unwavering. Dusk, Francesco, Corvus, and Noctus followed him, their faces set in grim determination.

Vitis, cloaked in darkness and arrogance, made his appearance. His eyes gleamed in the dim light, a sadistic smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight before him.

"Octavius," he drawled, his voice echoing eerily in the silence that had fallen. "Playing hero, are we?"

Octavius stood firm, his gaze meeting Vitis's without flinching. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he held his ground.

"I see no heroes here, Vitis," Octavius retorted, his voice steady. "Only those willing to protect their own."

Vitis chuckled, the sound grating and harsh. "And what power do you have to protect anyone, Octavius? You're a prince without a kingdom."

Octavius's eyes flashed, a spark of defiance in the face of Vitis's mockery. "I have more power than you will ever possess, Vitis," he stated, his tone resolute. "Because my power doesn't come from fear or intimidation. It comes from my people, from standing together. From understanding that we are stronger together than we could ever be apart. You may have your horde, Vitis, but I have something far more powerful. I have friends."

Vitis's laughter echoed ominously in the silence, his eyes gleaming with cruel delight. "Your friends? These lowborn scum?" He waved a dismissive hand at the barn behind Octavius. "What can they possibly do against my forces?"

Octavius's gaze didn't waver. He stood tall, his voice steady as he replied, "They have more courage and honor than you could ever fathom, Vitis. They understand the meaning of loyalty and community, something you clearly lack."

Vitis's eyes narrowed, his amusement quickly replaced by annoyance. "And who are you to lecture me on loyalty, Octavius? A little prince who aligns himself with the lowborn instead of his rightful place among the nobility?"

Octavius smiled, his tone steady as he delivered his retort. "You seem to be under a misconception, Vitis. You see, you're not contesting against some disgraced prince. You're challenging the authority of the Goetian family. The nobility you so desperately wish to influence, they serve under King Paimon's rule, not King Vine's. And I assure you, King Paimon does not take kindly to those who threaten his subjects."

Vitis sneered at Octavius, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous mixture of anger and pride. "This isn't about Paimon or Vine. This is about you, Octavius. You have slighted my father, and for that, I will have satisfaction."

Octavius met his gaze unflinchingly, his violet eyes mirroring the determination in Vitis's. "Very well, Vitis. If a duel is what you desire, then a duel is what you shall have."

With that, Octavius extended his hand, holding his staff high into the air. A shimmering pulse of magic coursed down the length of the staff, transforming it into a gleaming saber. Its blade glowed with a soft, violet hue, its magical aura radiating an air of quiet, potent power. The sight was a testament to Octavius's magical prowess, a clear signal that he was ready to face whatever Vitis had in store for him.

The tension in the air was nearly tangible as Octavius and Vitis faced each other, ready for the duel. The audience watched in bated breath as the two combatants prepared to clash, the steady rumble of the Imps and Hellhounds adding to the electric atmosphere.

With a quick movement, Octavius was the first to strike, his saber slicing the air as he sent a "Stupefy" towards Vitis. The spell charged forward, a blinding bolt of magic, but Vitis deflected it with a practiced flick of his own weapon, a strong "Protego!" echoing through the barn.

Octavius parried the incoming attacks with the skill of a seasoned warrior, each movement a calculated dance of attack and defense. His saber was a blur as he met each of Vitis's strikes, the clash of their weapons ringing out in the tense silence.

Vitis didn't hold back, launching an offensive of slashing and stabbing attacks. "Crucio!" he roared, his voice echoing in the barn, the Unforgivable Curse intended to cause pain. But Octavius was too quick, his saber spinning as he sidestepped the curse, retaliating with a powerful "Expelliarmus!" Vitis was thrown off balance, his weapon slipping from his grasp. But he quickly regained his footing, calling his weapon back to his hand with a swift "Accio!"

Their duel raged on, the barn echoing with the clash of steel and the crackle of raw magical energy. Spells were thrown and deflected, the two combatants locked in an intense battle. Octavius moved with a graceful ferocity, his attacks a deadly dance of magic and combat skill.

However, Vitis was no pushover, retaliating with powerful hexes and curses, his saber a deadly arc of steel. Their blades met, a shower of sparks lighting up the dim barn as they clashed.

Octavius noticed Vitis starting to flag, his movements growing sluggish, the strain of the intense duel beginning to show. He saw his opportunity, casting a swift "Petrificus Totalus!" The spell hit Vitis square in the chest, his body freezing up.

With a final, decisive movement, Octavius disarmed Vitis, his saber clattering to the ground. The barn fell silent as Octavius stood victorious, his saber held high, the glow of its blade casting long shadows.

As Vitis fell, the barn was still for a moment, a hush falling over the crowd. Then, all at once, chaos erupted. The remaining Hellhounds and Imps, having watched their leader fall, charged forward with renewed fury. The air filled with the roar of gunfire and the crackle of spells, the calm of the barn replaced with a deafening cacophony.

Octavius and his group were ready. They had been prepared for this, their guns and sabers at the ready. "Protego!" they cried in unison, a dome of magic forming around them, deflecting the incoming bullets and spells.

Despite the protective spell, the Imps and Hellhounds kept coming, their numbers seeming to multiply. But Octavius and his group stood their ground, their faces set in determination.

Dusk and Noctus were a blur of motion, their sabers whirling as they met the charge of the Hellhounds. With each clash, Hellhounds fell, unable to match the skill and magic of the two. Spells of "Stupefy" and "Expelliarmus" were thrown, rendering Hellhounds unconscious or disarmed.

On the other side, Francesco and Gylfie worked in tandem, their spellcasting a blend of precision and power. "Incarcerous!" Francesco would call, ropes of magical energy ensnaring the Imps. Gylfie followed with a "Reducto", reducing the entangled Imps to harmless piles of ash.

Octavius, in the center of it all, was a force to be reckoned with. His saber was a blur, parrying and deflecting with practiced ease. His magic was a deadly weapon, hexes and curses flying from his saber with lethal precision. "Diffindo!" he roared, a powerful charm that cut through the Hellhounds like a blade made of the sharpest metals.

Despite the onslaught, Octavius and his group held their ground, their magic and skill overpowering the frenzied charge of the Hellhounds and Imps. The barn was filled with the sound of battle, the clash of steel and the crackle of magic echoing off the walls.

In the midst of the intense battle, Octavius caught sight of Vitis out of the corner of his eye. The fallen prince was being dragged away by a group of Hellhounds and Imps, their faces filled with fear and desperation. His chest tightened, a grim satisfaction filling him. The tide of the battle was turning.

"Confringo!" Octavius roared, a powerful blasting curse erupting from his saber. It hit the ground near the retreating group, sending them flying in all directions. But the Hellhounds and Imps were persistent, quickly scrambling back to their feet and continuing to drag Vitis away.

Octavius was about to fire another spell when he felt a sharp pain in his side. He turned to see a Hellhound lunging at him, its eyes filled with rage. He parried its attack with his saber, the blade cutting through its body with ease. But the distraction had cost him; Vitis and his rescuers had disappeared into the night.

The battle raged on, but the enemies were dwindling. One by one, the Hellhounds and Imps were either cut down or driven away. Octavius, despite his initial rage, felt a sense of relief wash over him. They had survived the night, they had protected their people, and they had proven that they could stand up to the likes of King Vine and his son.

As the last of the Hellhounds and Imps retreated, Octavius turned to his companions. Their faces were filled with relief and exhaustion, but also determination. They had won this battle, but they knew this was only the beginning.

With the battle over, Octavius turned his attention to the portal, the swirling vortex of magic still open in the middle of the barn. He raised his hand, the familiar incantation falling easily from his lips. With a flick of his wrist, the portal expanded, and one by one, the Goetian demons began to reappear.

They looked around in bewilderment, their eyes wide with fear and confusion. They had been whisked away in the middle of an attack, unsure of what was happening or where they were going. But now they were back, and they were safe.

Octavius waited until everyone was accounted for before he addressed them. His voice echoed through the barn, loud and clear despite his exhaustion. He told them of the treachery of Vitis, of the dishonor of King Vine, and of the unjust attack that had been launched against them. He spoke of the duel, of his victory, and of the deceitful ambush that had followed.

"But despite their treachery, we stood strong," he finished, his voice ringing out in the silence. "We fought back, and we won. Not because of my power, or my lineage, but because of our unity. Because of our shared desires to survive. They may have thought they could overpower us, they may have thought they could scare us into submission, but they were wrong. We are Goetian, and we will not be intimidated."

Goetian Palace, Stolas's Chambers

June 24th, 1990

Prince Stolas was greeted by the news of the night's events with a mixture of fury and concern. His violet feathers bristled as he heard the tale from his children, his eyes revealing a storm of emotions. His children had faced danger, a danger that should not have come to them, and it was an affront to his house, his bloodline, and his authority.

"Such insolence," he exclaimed, his voice resonating through the grand halls of the Goetian palace. "This is an insult to our name. King Vine and his son have crossed a line this night..."

Goetian Palace, Paimon's Throneroom

June 24th, 1990

Meanwhile, King Paimon was informed of the events that transpired. His usually calm and tranquil demeanor was replaced by a stern and grave expression, his golden eyes filled with a seriousness that was rarely seen. He summoned the family to his grand palace, his booming voice echoing through the grand halls.

"Summon Stolas and his brood," he declared, his voice resounding through the vast halls of his palace.

Octavius, Octavia, Stolas, Stella, and Andrealphus were present, joined by the lowborn who bowed before their king.

Stepping forward, Octavia and Octavius stood before the grand court of their kin. The court was silent as Octavius began to speak, recounting the events that had transpired and the plots they had discovered.

"King Vine," Octavius began, his voice echoing in the silent hall, "has been plotting against our family. He seeks to take control, to dominate not just our lineage, but all those who serve under us. Octavia and I have been aware of this for some time, and we have worked to undermine his plans at every turn."

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before continuing. "He has made attempts to take Octavia, my sister, against her will," Octavius' voice hardened, his words causing a ripple of shock and anger through the court. The memory of Vitis's forceful attempt on Octavia during the birthday party was still fresh in the minds of many in recounts to the rumors of the party, and it was clear from King Paimon's enraged expression that he had not forgotten.

"He has sought to kidnap those who support us, to sow discord among our ranks. And he has not stopped there. He aimed to attack our family directly."

Octavius then recounted the events of the night, detailing the meeting with the lowborn demons, the sudden ambush by Vitis, the horde of Imps and Hellhounds, and the dishonorable attempt on his life.

"Vitis and his horde sought not just to kill me, but to kidnap Octavia, and to execute or capture the lowborn demons present. His actions were not of a noble, not of a Prince of Ars Goetia, but of a coward and a traitor," Octavius finished, his voice resounding through the hall, his words carrying the weight of the injustice they had suffered.

King Paimon stood tall, a figure of regal dignity and terrible anger. His usual jovial demeanor was replaced by a stern countenance that chilled the grand hall. His gaze was like a storm, stormy and hard, as he took in the gathered court. His voice, when it finally cut through the heavy silence, was a low rumble that echoed ominously around the court.

"King Vine, and his son Vitis," he began, each syllable dropping like a stone into a still pond, "have acted against the family of Goetia with dishonor and deceit. They have dared to spill the blood of our family, to lay hands on what is ours, and to undermine the claim we have."

Turning back to Octavius and Octavia, Paimon's gaze softened just a touch. "Octavius, Octavia, your courage and loyalty to this family are commendable. You have upheld the prestige of our name, and for that, I am grateful."

His voice rang out, echoing throughout the silent hall. "Let it be known that King Vine and his son, Vitis, have been decreed with a Casus Belli. Should they make another move, they shall be erased." He spoke with his power puffing from his visage.

As King Paimon's decree resonated through the grand chamber, a distinguished figure emerged from the crowd and moved toward the center of the room. This was Duke Halphas, the venerable uncle of Octavius and Octavia. An imposing owl demon with a demeanor as cool and unflappable, Halphas commanded respect throughout the Goetian family.

His keen eyes, always watchful and analytical, swept over Octavius and Octavia. When he spoke, his voice was firm and measured, each word resonating with an authority that commanded attention.

"King Paimon, brother Stolas," he began, his words reverberating in the silence. "I come before you today with a humble request. The events of recent times have shown us that our beloved Octavius and Octavia possess abilities that are rare and potent. As Seers, they have demonstrated wisdom and courage beyond their years. However, they remain untrained and inexperienced in the ways of Hell's sorcery. I ask your permission to personally oversee their training, to guide them on their path and prepare them for the challenges that undoubtedly lie ahead."

King Paimon considered Halphas' words carefully, his gaze thoughtful as it shifted between Octavius, Octavia, and their uncle. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice echoing through the grand chamber.

"Halphas, your request is born of noble intentions and your dedication to our families expansion into the occult is beyond reproach," he began, his tone appreciative. "However, I believe that the responsibility of training Octavius and Octavia must remain with their father. Stolas has been guiding them thus far and his efforts have borne fruit. He knows them best and understands their strengths and weaknesses. I have full confidence that he will guide them to their full potential."

Despite the potential for tension, Paimon's words were received with a respectful nod from Halphas. The King's decision had been made.

Stella and Andrealphus found themselves in a quiet corner of the bustling palace, away from the constant noise and chaos of the courts of Ars Goetia. It was a rare moment of respite in an otherwise tumultuous environment, and they took the opportunity to exchange thoughts on the current state of affairs.

"The courts are a mess," Stella remarked, her gaze sweeping across the bustling activity of demons and sinners in the distance. "I've never seen it this chaotic."

Andrealphus, however, appeared amused rather than perturbed. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "Well, I for one am rather enjoying the chaos," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "The invitations to parties and trappings have been pouring in like never before. It's quite the... exhilarating time, wouldn't you say?"

Stella turned to him, raising an eyebrow at his unusual enthusiasm. She knew of Andrealphus's fondness for parties and social engagements, but even this level of excitement seemed uncharacteristic for him. She studied him for a moment before speaking.

"You seem quite pleased with yourself, Andrealphus," she said, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity. "What's got you so happy about all this?"

Andrealphus chuckled, pushing off the wall to stand up straight. "Well, let's just say that the increased chaos has provided more opportunities for... entertainment," he said with a wink. "And I do so love to be entertained." Andrealphus paused as he was about to blend back into the crowd, looking over his shoulder at Stella. His eyes held a glint of a new idea, a spark of opportunity that had just occurred to him.

"Stella," he started, his voice carrying a slightly more serious tone than before. "What if we used this chaos to our advantage?"

Stella blinked, turning fully to face her brother. "What do you mean?"

Andrealphus looked thoughtful as he considered his next words. "Think about it, Stella," he began. "With all this chaos, there's bound to be some who are looking for a bit of stability, a bit of order. Kings and Dukes might be looking for allies, for those who can help them navigate through this tumult. And who better than us?"

Stella looked at him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. This was a side of her brother she rarely saw, the side that thought strategically, that looked at the bigger picture. But she could see the logic in his words.

"We could use this to our advantage," Andrealphus continued, his voice firm. "We could gain more status, climb up the ladder of the court. We could curry favors, make alliances. It could give us a leg up in the hierarchy."

Stella was silent for a moment, considering Andrealphus's words. She looked at him, her eyes reflecting her thoughts. She knew her brother was right. In the chaos of the courts, there was opportunity. And if they were smart, they could use that opportunity to their advantage.

"You're right, Andrealphus," she finally said, a determined glint in her eyes. "Let's seize this chance. Let's use this chaos to our advantage."

Andrealphus grinned, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "That's the spirit, Stella," he said, clapping his sister on the shoulder before turning to merge back into the crowd. "Let's shake things up a bit."

Hell, Pride Ring

August 8th, 1990

The revelation of King Vine's machinations sent shockwaves as the Goetians capitalized this in information warfare through the Pride Ring, a swirling maelstrom of outrage, betrayal, and opportunistic ambition. News spread like wildfire, turning the once orderly streets into arenas of chaos and dissent.

King Vine's supporters were met with open hostility, their properties vandalized by sinners who wanted a reason to attack, while those who had long harbored resentment against the King saw this as an opportunity to strike. The Goetian family, despite their innocence, were not spared from this turmoil, their properties targeted by those who saw them as complicit or simply as an opportunity amidst the chaos.

Street fights broke out, turning calm drug dealing spots into battlegrounds. The once vibrant markets, filled with lust and debauchery, were now filled with the sounds of combat and the roar of spells clashing. The skies above were awash with flying figures, streaks of magic lighting up the night like a disturbed constellation.

An average Tuesday in Hell's standards.

In the midst of this, Octavius was thrown into the thick of it. His magical training was put to the ultimate test as he found himself in back-to-back duels, defending Goetian properties, and thwarting plots that sought to exploit the chaos for personal gain. His every waking moment was filled with the scent of smoke, the crackle of spells, and the harsh reality of politics and power.

Octavius truly felt like the main character in a video game forced to take care of all the side quests in an open world environment.

His combat magic was pushed to its limits as he faced a barrage of challenges, his opponents ranging from disgruntled commoners to ambitious nobles. His magical saber became an extension of himself, parrying spells and striking with precision.

As the chaos reigned, Octavius wasn't left alone in his endeavors. He found strength and support in his father, Stolas, and sister, Octavia. They were a tight-knit trio, a united front against the onslaught of challenges they faced.

Stolas, a seasoned caster and a tactician, was always there to guide Octavius, lending his expertise and wisdom. When Octavius was cornered in the Gorgon Alley, surrounded by a group of ambitious nobles seeking to capitalize on the chaos, it was Stolas who swooped in, his owl-like form a striking sight against the backdrop of the night sky and petrifiying eyes to turn the unfortunate to stone. With a powerful gust of his wings and a swift, expert display of magic, he quickly dispersed the mob, turning the tide of the confrontation.

Octavia, with her foresight and formidable magical abilities, proved to be an invaluable asset. Her vision would often alert them to potential threats, giving them the upper hand. She stood by Octavius's side during a particularly intense duel against a powerful demon in the Crimson Square. Her spells complemented Octavius's, creating a symphony of powerful magic that ultimately overwhelmed their opponent.

Under the gaze of his father, Octavius accelerated his understanding in Transfiguration and Divination. His focus had sharpened, his ambition fueled by the necessity of the situation. For transfiguration magic, Octavius spent countless hours studying ancient texts and practicing complex spells. He was determined to master the art of transforming one thing into another and to understand the underlying principles of magical metamorphosis.

Having been gifted with visions, he realized the potential advantage such foresight could bring. He began studying different methods of divination: from interpreting the flight patterns of birds, reading tea leaves, to complex scrying techniques. His natural intuition combined with rigorous training allowed him to refine his ability to predict future events.

His training allowed him to change his human and demonic form at will and allow him to scry present events passively, helping his sister learn the arts quickly and rapidly as he did.

From the shadows emerged Francesco, standing alongside Dusk as they represented the fortitude of Ars Goetia. Noctus, the embodiment of determination, was there too, as was Gylfie. These individuals, each a force in their own right, were not alone. They were accompanied by the Hellhounds they had adopted, a fierce pack that reflected their loyalty and strength. They gathered and formed their own packs, locked & loaded, ready to hunt down and kill those who were the enemy.

Stolas, assisted by Loona and Fang, rescued Blitzo from imprisonment. Alongside the former performer and aspiring business owner, an intelligent Imp who was the son of a mob boss, followed Blitzo through the rescue. Unfortunately, Blitzo, Moxxie, and Loona were separated from Stolas and Fang's pack when the fighting restarted in their area, giving Blitz and his crew the time to take a black van and make an escape to the Wrath Ring.

In the heat of the fight, aiding the fighters were those who could not stand in the sidelines any longer. They were flanked by the families of Imps and Hellhounds, creatures they had once saved, now standing with them in their hour of need. Alongside them, a contingent of lowborn, each one a testament to the power of unity and courage and leading a group of their own followers.

It was Stella and Andrealphus who had pointed out the enemies, providing the necessary direction for this unexpected unity. It was confusing for Stolas, Octavius, and Octavia, but their help in diplomacy and spycraft helped pinpoint key targets and allowed gave them advantages in many courts. Stella considered slapping Octavius for bringing the family into this mess, but the opportunity did provide her a means to expand her influence.

Not long into the fighting, an organized structure was formed. Hellhounds, with their feral instincts and unyielding loyalty, formed the vanguard, tearing into the enemies with untamed fury. Imps, quick and agile, used their cunning to launch surprise attacks, causing havoc within the enemy ranks. The Barn Owls, steadfast and disciplined, provided a resolute backbone, their unwavering devotion to Octavius and his family a powerful driving force.

Together, they resisted the onslaught. They fought back with such force and determination that it stunned their adversaries. They claimed territories, one street at a time, each victory a testament to their united strength. They secured their homes, fortifying their defenses, ensuring that those within their walls were safe.

In the midst of the turmoil, they provided a sanctuary for the Hellborn and Sinners. Safe zones were established, areas heavily fortified and guarded by Imps and Hellhounds and repaired by the lowborn Goetians. These were places where the vulnerable could seek refuge, places that offered a moment's respite from the chaos outside.

As these conflicts continued, the safe zones were never touched, giving Octavius and his followers places to recover after the fighting started to die down.

Wrath Ring, Corvus's Residence

August 28th, 1990

In the Wrath Ring, far from the cacophonous hustle of the city and the austere grandeur of the council chambers, nestled a humble farmstead. Here, away from the machinations of power and politics, life took on a simpler, more primal rhythm. This rustic idyll, nestled amid endless fields of wheat that danced in the hellish wind, and livestock that lowed in tune with the ebb and flow of the day, was where Octavius and Octavia sought out Corvus in his time of grief.

His normally vibrant eyes, usually a testament to his dynamic spirit, were now dull and listless, mirroring the abyss left by his mother's passing. He was a solitary figure, seated in the weathered barn that stood as a monument to generations of labor and resilience. The usual melody of the farmstead—the rhythmic munching of the beasts, the whispering wheat, the soft creaking of the old barn—seemed muted, muffled by the oppressive silence that mourning often brings.

Traversing the narrow, hay-strewn pathways of the farm, Octavius and Octavia made their way towards their friend. Each footfall, cushioned by the straw-covered earth, seemed to tread lightly on the hush that had blanketed the farmstead.

"Corvus," Octavius began, his voice threading the silence with a mixture of gentleness and firmness. His words echoed within the wooden confines of the barn, a vocal affirmation of their solidarity and support.

Octavia followed suit, her hand extending to rest gently on Corvus's shoulder, a tangible testament to their shared bond. "We are here for you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying with it a profound reassurance.

Their presence, though incapable of eradicating the depth of Corvus's pain, was a beacon in his moment of darkness. They stood with him, not as mere observers, but as pillars of strength and comfort.

Goetian Palace, Gallaria

October 31st, 1990

As the Halloween night unfurled its cloak of mystery and anticipation, a constellation of stars punctured the velvet darkness, casting their celestial light upon the grandeur of the Goetian estate. The air was thick with anticipation, charged with a sense of expectant wonder. This particular night, the evening of October 31st, was etched into the timeline of Octavius and Octavia's lives as a pivotal juncture of immense significance.

Post Stolas's return from The Harvest Moon festival, this was the night he would preside over a sacred ceremony, one held in honor of his children's hatching procession. It was a momentous occasion, the importance of which was palpable in the electrified atmosphere of the estate.

A grand hall, a space that usually resonated with the echo of laughter and the hum of conversation, had been meticulously transformed for the occasion. The ancient stone walls were etched with symbols and runes of a time forgotten, their cryptic shapes glowing eerily under the shimmering lunar light. The air was perfumed with the rich, heady scent of incense and the cleansing aroma of smoky sage, their combined scent enveloping the room in a mystical shroud that heightened the sense of awe and reverence.

At the epicenter of the grand hall, ensconced in the midst of this mystic aura, sat a large nest. Crafted from shards of obsidian and sapphire and imbued with potent magic, the nest cradled two large eggs. Their surfaces shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence, their radiant aura casting a mesmerizing glow across the room.

Octavius and Octavia, siblings bound by blood and destiny, stood guard before this nest, their eyes reflecting the hypnotic glow of the eggs. Clad in ceremonial robes that whispered tales of ancient traditions, they waited with bated breath, their hands clasped in a gesture of united anticipation.

The gathered crowd, a formidable assembly of demons and Hellborn, filled the air with an ancient chant. The rhythmic chant, a resonant melody woven from the threads of antiquity, crescendoed into a powerful roar as the clock struck midnight. The final toll echoed in the vast hall, its reverberations hanging in the air like a phantom reminder of the passing time.

Then, a profound silence descended, wrapping the hall in its hushed embrace. In the stillness, a soft crack echoed through the hall, a sound as soft as a whisper yet as powerful as a thunderclap. Another followed, and then another. The eggs, bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight, shivered, tiny fractures snaking across their luminescent surfaces.

A shared glance passed between Octavius and Octavia, a silent conversation that spanned the few feet separating them. They stepped forward, their hands reaching out towards the trembling eggs. The moment their fingers brushed against the cool, shimmering surface, a brilliant explosion of light erupted from within the eggs, painting the hall in a kaleidoscope of colors.

When the radiant light receded, two creatures lay nestled in the obsidian and sapphire nest, their scales sparkling with an ethereal light. The Void Dragons, creatures of mythos and creations of Wrath and Goetic origins, had arrived. These hellborn Dragons were breathtaking, their forms a symphony of power, grace, and raw elemental energy. Their scales absorbed the lunar light, emanating a captivating glow that was as haunting as it was beautiful.

Octavius's dragon, a male, bore scales of a deep obsidian hue, iridescent under the moonlight, as though each one had been individually carved from the heart of a star. Its body was lithe and muscular, its quadrupedal frame radiating an untamed strength. Its large wings, folded neatly at its sides, were akin to a cosmic tapestry, speckled with what appeared to be tiny stars, each one twinkling with its own light.

Octavia's dragon, a female, was adorned with scales of an enchanting sapphire blue, shimmering with an ethereal light that seemed to dance and flicker like the surface of a tranquil lake under the moon's glow. Her body was equally as powerful, yet carried a sense of elegance and grace. Her wings, large and majestic, glittered with an array of hues, like the northern lights captured in physical form.

As Octavius and Octavia cautiously extended their hands, an unexpected surge of power coursed through them. It was as if a dormant channel in their minds had been suddenly unlocked, filling their consciousness with a torrent of images, emotions, and thoughts that didn't originate from themselves. This was a telepathic bond, a sacred connection between dragon and rider that they hadn't even fathomed to exist. The bond acted as a conduit, a bridge that spanned the chasm between different species, offering them an intimate glimpse into the dragon's consciousness. It was a shared understanding, a mutual resonance that transcended the confines of spoken language.

"Octavius," the obsidian dragon's voice reverberated within the young man's psyche. It was a deep, rumbling sound, reminiscent of the echo of a distant star, yet imbued with a warmth and intelligence that was almost tangible.

"Octavia," the sapphire dragon's voice resonated in Octavia's mind, a melodious whisper as ethereal as a summer breeze. Yet, despite the soothing quality of the voice, it was infused with a wisdom that felt as old as the cosmos itself.

These Void Dragons, products of the intense energies of Hell itself, possessed a surprising capability - they could communicate through thought, their words echoing directly within the minds of their chosen riders.

Octavius and Octavia exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring each other's — a blend of excitement, disbelief, and the first flickers of understanding. The bond they had just formed with their Void Dragons was not just powerful; it was profound, even a tad overwhelming. Yet, as they turned to face Paimon, Stolas, and Stella, they found their reactions comforting. In their guardians' eyes, they saw not fear or apprehension, but pure, unadulterated pride and joy. The sight brought a newfound confidence to the siblings.

Without any spoken words, the siblings sprang forward, their feet barely making contact with the cold stone floor as they darted towards their waiting loved ones. They threw themselves into the arms of Paimon, their grandfather, who was known for his stern demeanor and a formal aura that often commanded respect and a little bit of fear. Yet, at this moment, that stern façade melted away, replaced by a softness that was rarely seen. His large hand tenderly patted their backs, a wordless gesture that conveyed a thousand unspoken sentiments, his roughened fingers a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch.

The siblings then moved towards Stolas, their father, who stood with his arms wide open, waiting to hold his children close. He gathered them into his embrace, his powerful arms encircling them protectively. A proud smile spread across his normally impassive features, transforming his face into an embodiment of paternal pride and joy. The twins could feel the tangible warmth of his love radiating through the fabric of their ceremonial robes, the strength of his pride in their accomplishments resonating in his every touch, and the palpable relief that they were unharmed and safe.

Lastly, they turned to Stella, who had been a surprising beacon of support in the fight. She welcomed their embrace, her own arms wrapping around them with an odd sense of motherly affection.

Chapter Complete!

Man, I threw myself really swiftly into this chapter! The political intrigue, the emotions, the manipulation, the conflict, Dragons, and the dueling has been my more favored moments in writing the series thus far!

Also, we have reached 50K words!

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