The Devils Cry Ch 1-13

[eiahmon]

Title: The Devils Cry Chapter 13
Category: Devil May Cry
Rating: PG-13
Devil May Cry and it’s characters and situations are the sole property of Capcom. I am making no money or profit off of this fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended. On the other hand all original characters and situations are mine so please don’t run off with them without my knowledge or consent.
Summary: A daughter’s dreams of a place that Dante doesn’t want to remember make him recall things that he had once tried so hard to forget as the skeletons in the Sparda family closet come out to play. Lost family history is revealed, and people once thought long gone return.
SPOILER WARNING!!!: Spoilers for all three Devil May Cry games.

13.

Vergil came back to awareness slowly, rising through the heavy layers of sleep that covered him to blink his eyes open and catch a glimpse at the unfamiliar ceiling above him. Sensing no one in the room with him, he warily sat up, looking around to see his surroundings. His tired brain took a moment to catch up with him, but when it did, he remembered where he was, and how he had gotten there. He couldn’t help but smirk just a bit - a smirk that, unbeknownst to him, his son had inherited. Oooooh, Luxian was going to be so furious that he had escaped him again. Chuckling lightly at the look that his uncle would have on his face as soon as he noticed that Vergil wasn’t there, he got out of bed and to his feet to better get a look at the room he was in.

The room was relatively small and impersonal, signaling that it was a guest room of some sort. It differed from the same such rooms in Lar’cincel only by it’s color scheme. The room consisted of a bed, a wardrobe, and a small writing desk and chair, nothing more.

The door opened, starting him. Cursing himself for letting his guard down, he moved over to the corner furthest from the door and put his back to it, ensuring that he was in a fully defendable position by the time his unknown guest stepped through the door. The person stepped through, and he recognized it as the woman - Zenedris Sarcesti - who had met him last night.

“Good afternoon, Vergil Sparda.” she said as she swept into the room, the hem of her robes trailing behind her “I hope that you rested well.”

“Well enough.” he replied, noticing for the first time how scratchy his voice was, probably from years of screaming, which had been broken only by years of silence. He was determined to not let his guard down around her. He had risked his life coming onto her territory; he would not risk anything more while he was here. No matter what she had said in her letter, she was still a demon, and a powerful at that. And for that, he would be careful around her.

 

“I give you safety in my family’s home,” she said with a small smile “and this is how you treat me? With suspicion?” Her smile became rueful. “I can’t say that I blame you, however. Years spent as Luxian’s whipping post and Mundus’ stress reliever will do that to one, I suppose.”

“What is it you want with me?” he demanded, trying to act like he had around his brother during the Temen-ni-gru and not quite making it. His throat was quickly drying out from the two sentences that he had just spoken, and didn’t dare choke or cough in front of this demon. One thing that he had learned is that weakness of any kind meant death in the demon world. Sighing and shaking her auburn haired head, Zenedris conjured a glass of water and held it out to him. He eyed it suspiciously, making her give an exasperated sigh.

“I didn’t poison it, you know.” she said “And I won’t rip you apart for simply coughing because you’re throat’s dried out.” Eyeing it and her one last time, Vergil hesitantly reached out for it. He snatched it out of her hand, causing some of the water to slop out of the glass and onto the floor, and took a cautious sip, his eyes never leaving her. The first sip felt like sweet heaven, and he had to strangle a relieved moan before he could voice it. He waited a bit to make sure nothing nasty was going to happen before cautiously drinking the rest. He handed the glass back to her, and watched impassively as she banished it to wherever it had come from.

“Now,” she said “Follow me. We have much to discuss.” She waved her hand and his clothes were clean and straight - well as straight as they could be. Then she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. Seeing no other option, he followed her. They encountered no others during their walk to wherever they were going, and Vergil wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She led him down a flight of stairs and into a library that made the Sparda family library look small and insignificant. Gesturing for him to be seated, she strode over to a sealed bookcase and pulled a large tome from the shelf. Carrying it over to the table where he had sat down, she sat down across from him and opened the book to a premarked page and pushed it over to him. He glanced down at the archaic writing, and the thought occurred to him that the book could easily be thousands of years old. He looked up at her, and she nodded at him, clearly indicating that he was to read the marked page. Still wary of taking his eyes off of her, he reluctantly lowered his gaze and tried to read the words on the page. It took him a while, as he had had very little practice reading the demon’s language during the past several years, but as soon as he realized what he was looking at, his eyes widened in realization of what she was offering him. He looked back up at her.

“You would send me back?” he asked “Against your Master’s wishes?”

She nodded silently, her fingers drumming absently on the tabletop.

“I owe your grandfather and your father that much.” was her only reply.

“So how does this work?” he asked, gesturing to the spell written in faded ink on the page “I never could make much sense of this magic.” The last few words of his sentence squeaked out as his throat dried back out. Pulling the book away from, she conjured another glass of water and handed it to him. This time he took it without hesitating, figuring that if she was going to kill him and this was all some elaborate scheme, then there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Once he had drank it and she had vanished the glass, she offered an explanation.

“This spell,” she said “simply put, will allow me to send you anywhere you want to go, as long as I have a clear picture of it in my mind. It can be anywhere in this world, or it can be in the human world. There are no distance limits on this spell.”

“Anywhere?” he said, surprised.

“Anywhere.”

He rested his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Zenedris watched him, noting how he seemed eerily like his father at times such as this. She had seen only such relief on Sparda’s face once, and that had been after Akemus’ birth, which had been long and difficult for Atalia. Reaching out, she gently patted Vergil’s arm, making him practically jump out of his chair. He then glared at her, which he didn’t quite manage as his face was too thin and his eyes too dull to quite pull the effect off. She smiled at him.

“Do you know of any place where it would be best to send you?” she asked.

“I.. I’m not sure.” he said, his voice shaking just a little “It’s been so long since I’ve seen the human world last, that I doubt everything is the same.”

“What about where you grew up?’ she queried wondering if her assessment of his memory was correct.

“

I can’t remember that.” Yes, she had been correct.

“Not at all?”

“I can’t remember anything. It’s all... just a fog.”

“Hmmmm, well I have to have an image of where to send you. While don’t you think on it for a while? I’m certain that you would like to take a bath and get out of those old clothes,” He looked down and realized for the first time that his clothes were little more than shredded rags. “as well as eat something.” She smiled at him as she rose from her chair and picked up the book, carrying it over and putting it away. She then motioned for him to follow her out of the library and down into the main rooms of the tower.

******

It seemed that the whole of the Underworld shook from Luxian’s enraged roar. He had returned to Lar’cincel to find the half breed missing, the book missing, and Sparda’s other sword gone from the library wall. How dare that brat steal what didn’t belong to him! Ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that whispered that since the sword had been Sparda’s then it was free game to his son, he had stormed back off to Mundus’ throne room to report that boy’s disappearance. That had gone over really well. Mundus had raged that the boy had had the audacity to leave and wander the Underworld, then he had turned on Luxian, demanding to know why he couldn’t have kept the half breed contained. After all, he was the Master of Lar’cincel, he should have been able to keep the brat from wandering freely. Luxian had not bothered to explain that, since he was not the Sparda family patriarch, he had no control over the magic of the tower. The magic would alert him to the presence of a visitor and let him know if someone within the tower was injured or ill, but it would not bow down to him. Only Sparda’s other half breed son, Dante, could control the tower, as he was the family patriarch - much to Luxian’s everlasting disgust.

“Find him, Luxian.” Mundus had ordered, his voice cold “I will not tolerate failure.”

Swallowing a large lump in his throat, Luxian had nodded and backed out of the throne room. Then he had ran, not walked, back to Lar’cincel.

Now he was pacing the library floor, trying to figure out where the half breed had gone, and why he had gone to begin with. They boy had known that he was safe in the tower, so what kind of incentive did he have to leave? It’s not like someone had offered him a way back into the human world...

Or had they?

Growling, he stormed down to the entrance to the tower, hoping to sense if anyone had been there and touched the wards. He was able to tell that someone had come into the castle, but not who. His eyes narrowed as he thought of the messenger that had appeared, telling him that he was needed in the throne room. When he had arrived at the throne room, Mundus had demanded to know why he was there uninvited. Knowing that failure to give a good reason would result in a painful punishment, he had hastily come up with a good lie, telling his master that he had some significant progress on the book and was just reporting said progress. That had placated Mundus, and Luxian had been allowed to leave without any punishment. Growling again, he tried to think on who the messenger might have been, pacing back in front of the doors. He saw a glimmer of white out of the corner of his eye, and looked down and to his left to see a rumpled piece of paper lying on the ground. Picking it up, he unfolded it and read the words within, which were written in one of the human languages. His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed down to slits in anger as the implications of note sunk in. Letting out a roar of frustration, he stormed back off to the throne room to inform Lord Mundus of the latest tidings. He knew that things were about to get very bad for him and for the Sarcesti family.

******

Vergil tried not to look as self conscious as he felt as he sat with the rest of the Sarcesti family, eating the evening meal. He was dressed in the same kind of clothes that they preferred, heavy robes with multiple layers and long flaring sleeves, and while they were comfortable, he just didn’t feel right. He felt like an intruder in their tower. The happy conversation over the table - which he didn’t take part in - stopped dead when everyone heard a frustrated roar from none other than Luxian.

“Looks like he discovered that you’re gone, Sparda.” someone had quipped. Everyone, sans Vergil, had laughed, and the conversation had picked up right where it had left off. Vergil had felt what little he had managed to eat turn to lead in his stomach, and he had to fight the urge to be sick. Blame it on some human intuition that he had inherited from his mother, but he had the feeling that things were about to go very wrong.

Less that a half hour later, someone pounded heavily on the entrance doors to Dali’mar’ne, silencing the conversation once again. Everyone exchanged wary glances as Zenedris rose from her place at the head of the table and went to answer the door, instructing the servants to not open it themselves. Feeling most decidedly sick now, Vergil got up and followed her. He waited just around the corner from the entrance hall as she answered the door, but not before she whispered something, and he felt the wards shifting.

Standing on the other side of the door were three of Mundus’ personal guard, as well as Luxian Sparda.

“Where is the half breed, Sarcesti.” he demanded.

“What’s wrong, Luxian?” she asked in a sickeningly sweet voice “Did you lose your nephew?”

“No games, Sarcesti. Where is he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” He pulled something out of his pocket, and Vergil felt his heart sink when he saw that it was the note that Cijarnae had carried.

Zenedris looked down at the incriminating note like she wasn’t even really seeing it.

“Lord Mundus wishes to have a talk with you.” Luxian said evenly. He reached out to grab her by the arm, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier. He tried again, and again his reach was blocked by the magic of the tower. Zenedris smirked at him and said:

“I guess you’ll just have to tell Lord Mundus that I declined the invitation.” She then slammed the door in their faces. She turned and walked back towards Vergil.

“Come on, Vergil,” she whispered as she passed him “I have to get you out of here. That spell will not hold forever.” Swallowing down his nausea, Vergil followed her up to the library.

******

Within a few short hours, Mundus had gathered several of his most trusted lieutenants, including the entire Bolverk family, and had ordered them to surround Dali’mar’ne. The wards of the tower were powerful, much more powerful than those on Lar’cincel, but not even they would be able to withstand such a prolonged attack for long.

“I don’t know what it is about you and that book that is so special, Vergil Sparda.” Zenedris said as they stood in the library together “But whatever it is, it must be damned important to Mundus if he’s stupid enough to to try and attack us.”

“Won’t they be able to bring the wards down?” Vergil asked, looking worriedly out one of the enchantment free windows down at the forces massing below.

Zenedris shrugged nonchalantly. “Eventually, but with everyone spellcasting in unison, we should be able to hold them up for a while longer. We just need them to last long enough to get you safely home.”

He turned away from the window to face her. “Why are you risking your family to save me? What is in it for you?”

She smirked at him. “One, I am not risking my family. We are all fully capable of taking down all of those out there without much in the name of trouble. We are simply holding the wards up so my spellcasting will not be interrupted. Once you are gone, we will drop the wards and slaughter every... single... one...“ Zenedris' human visage faded out for a moment, allowing Vergil a glimpse of the powerful demon that lurked beneath. Then it was gone, and she continued. “Secondly, I owe your father a blood debt. By doing this, the debt will be paid, and I will be beholden to him no longer.”

She walked over to the table where she had left the spell book and bent over to study the spell one last time. “You had better go gather your things.” she said “We don’t have much time.”
Nodding in understanding, he went back to the small room that he had stayed in and collected the book and the sword and spent a moment trying to slow his wildly beating heart. This was it, he thought. There was no turning back after this. Steeling his nerves as best as he could, he returned to the library, where Zenedris stood waiting for him.

“Are you ready?” she asked “This spell can have... unpleasant side effects.” He opened his mouth to ask what kind of side effects was she was talking about, when they felt a peculiar rippling go through them. Zenedris cursed, and Vergil was able to guess what had happened.
 

One of the wards had fallen.

Running to the library doors, the Sarcesti matriarch shouted down the stairs: “Don’t worry about putting it back up! Just keep the others from falling and keep those bastards off my back for five more minutes!” Turning back to Vergil, she gripped the pendant that she wore around her neck and whispered something under her breath. After a second, she nodded once, then returned to the book.

“This will hurt.” she warned him “This spell will literally pull you apart and put you back together again once you’ve reached your destination. Are you ready for that?”

He gulped and nodded. “Where are you sending me? Have you found a place?”

 

Zenedris only nodded as she picked up the book. “Hold tight to your sword and the book, and don’t fight the magic. The spell will backfire if you do.”

 

She took a deep breath and began to speak when a shrill ringing stopped her. Her head shot up in shock, then she let out a whole string of curses that Vergil had never heard before and tossed the book aside. Holding out her hand, she closed eyes and concentrated, and a short sword materialized in her hand.

“Are you in any shape to fight?” she asked. He shook his head. Just standing in one place while supporting the combined weight of the book and the sword had him shaking and sweating from the strain. The heavy robes that he was garbed in didn’t help. There was no way that he could help.

“I have to get that spell cast.” she said to herself. Running to the library doors, she yelled down the stairs again. “Keep him away from this door! Send the children up now!” The sounds of several pairs of small feet running up the stairs filled their ears a few seconds later, and nine children, including a terrified looking Cijarnae, ran through the library doors.

“Go over to the far side of the room.” Zenedris instructed them “And stay there. Don’t come near me unless I tell you otherwise.” They nodded, too wide eyed with fear to say anything, and did what they had been told. Satisfied that her great, great- grandchildren, and in at least two cases, her great, great, great-grandchildren were safely out of the way, Zenedris returned to the library doors. She shut them, locked them, then cast a spell on them that sealed them to all but those of Sarcesti blood. Even with them closed, the sounds of desperate fighting going on below could easily be heard. Vergil closed his eyes and tried to ignore it as Zenedris picked up the book and began chanting, still holding onto her sword with one hand.

The spell was only partially completed when the library doors banged open and her oldest son stumbled in. His robes were torn and bloody, and he staggered over to where the children were and collapsed in front of them. She felt her heart jerk, and her first reaction was to drop the book and go over to him, but she caught herself and didn’t interrupt her chanting. She had to get Vergil out before she did anything else. She did glance over at him to see the children swarming around him, using their own magic to heal him. Glancing back down at the book, she tried to ignore the sounds of fighting, which were getting closer and sounding more and more desperate.

Seconds later, the spell was nearing completion when the fighting below fell suddenly silent. Vergil, who had been standing with his eyes closed and his head bowed, looked up in alarm as the aura of something dark and powerful filled the tower. Zenedris’ gaze flicked over to the library doors, but she didn’t cease her spellcasting, though her eyes did widen just a little bit.

Vergil could feel the aura, which he could easily recognize, coming closer, and he knew that things were going to be very unpleasant for him. He closed his eyes and averted his head as Mundus himself reached the library doors, though the spell that Zenedris had cast on them wouldn’t allow them to come any further.

“Zenedris Sarcesti, what is the meaning of this.” Mundus demanded, his red eyes narrowed with barely controlled fury.

Zenedris ignored him and didn’t miss a word. When she next paused to take a breath, she sent her soon to be former master an insolent smirk.

Mundus roared in rage and threw himself at the open doorway. There was a sizzle and a flash and the Emperor of the Underworld was sent flying back, where he crashed into the wall opposite. Vergil heard a snarl and shuddered when he recognized his uncle’s voice. If they came through that door, then he would be in quite the amount of pain later.

“LUXIAN!!!” Mundus roared “Gather the others! I want this spell down, right now!!!”

Vergil heard Luxian bark out something, but he couldn't make out the words. Several other demons appeared at the barrier over the doors, and he recognized them as members of the other spellcasting demon family. He couldn’t recall the family name, but he knew that they were not as powerful as the Sarcesti, though he had no doubt that, if given the time, they could take down the spell.

Zenedris cursed between lines, and sped up her rate of chanting, hoping to finish before the spell came down. She had not expected them to be brought into this, so she had not used a real powerful spell. She knew that she didn’t have much time.

“I hope for your sake, Mundus, that my family is unharmed.” she growled threateningly when she next had the opportunity. If that bastard had harmed anyone.....

“Oh don’t worry, my dear.” he replied sweetly as he watched his servants work “They are all quite safe.” She snarled and continued with the spell.

Vergil felt the first tingling of the magic as it began to affect him. He could also feel the magic on the doors weakening, and he hoped that he would be sent on in time. The thought of what would happen to the Sarcesti family did occur to him, but it didn't stay long as worry over his own safety crowded it out.

“Please hurry.” he said quietly, dropping to his knees, too tired to keep standing. Zenedris, holding the spellbook in one hand, and her sword in the other, nodded in understanding. She too could feel the magic over the doors weakening. They were running out of time.

Mundus watched in satisfaction as his servants dismantled the warding that prevented them from getting to the Sarcesti matriarch and the Sparda half breed. Soon, the spell would be down, and he would make both of them pay for their transgressions.

“My lord, if I may, I wish to be the one to punish my nephew.” Luxian, who was standing behind him, said respectfully.

“You will have your opportunity, Luxian. After I have had mine.”

“Master, the spell will be down shortly.” one of the other demons said.

“Wonderful.” Mundus rubbed his hands together eagerly, a gesture that, unknown to him, was copied by Luxian exactly.

Vergil heard that, and he shuddered, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. He saw a flash through his eyelids and a triumphant shout from Mundus as the spell came down.

Zenedris sensed, rather than saw, the spell fall, and her only response was a smirk at Mundus as the devil came through the unblocked door, as Luxian headed for his nephew. Her smirk widened into a triumphant smile as she pointed at Vergil, the image of his destination fixed firmly in her mind, and spoke the last words of the spell.

Vergil screamed as the magic ripped through his body, tearing him apart and sending him on to where it had been directed. Luxian ran up to him to grab him, but the force of the magic needed to transcend worlds threw him back into his master and sent the two crashing into the floor. Forcing his eyes open a bit, Vergil saw Mundus regain his feet and rush towards Zenedris, his hands grabbing her by the throat as all sight and sound left him.

******

He woke up screaming.

He sat bolt upright, screaming in pain and in terror as his last conscious moments raced through his mind. Afraid of what he might see, he did not open his eyes to see his surroundings. He did not really care.

Hands came down gently on his shoulders, and he tried to jerk away, but his battered body screeched in protest.

“Shhh, Vergil it’s alright. Open your eyes; you’re safe.”

He knew that voice.

“Open your eyes Vergil. They can’t hurt you here. The spell worked; you’re home.”

Warily cracking one sand encrusted eye open, he caught a glimpse of a auburn haired, green eyed human woman who had a distinct demonic aura. He tried to remember her, but nothing came to mind at first. He searched his cluttered, twisted memory, and soon a name came to him.

“Rachel?” he croaked warily as she wiped his eyes with a damp cloth, allowing him to open both of them.

She nodded and smiled at him.

He slumped forward against her, feeling her arms come around him, and he started to cry.
 

It was over.

Chapter 12 -- Chapter 14

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