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The Devils Cry Chapter 2-14
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: 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 year after the events in “The Devils Cry”, things in the Sparda family have calmed down, well, as much as possible with them at any rate. But when strange things start happening, including a reappearance of Alastair's dreams of the unknown castle, they realized that they still have a long way to go.
SPOILER WARNING!!!: Spoilers for all three Devil May Cry games.
14.
“Will this hurt?” Vergil asked nervously, reminding Sparda of the boy’s various dentist and doctor appointments as a child.
“It may hurt a little.” Atalia warned him as she sat beside him on the bed where he was lying “Liestia is going to have to forcefully break the spell that is blocking your memories, and we expect the magic to fight. If it hurts too much, just let us know, and we’ll find another way.” Vergil nodded, casting a fearful glance at his father, who smiled reassuringly. The half demon sighed, took a deep breath, and tried to relax into the pillows.
“Let’s get this over with.” he said quietly. He shut his eyes, trying to block out everyone around him. He didn’t want to see the pity on their faces when he screamed - he had a feeling that it was going to hurt quite a bit more than Atalia said it would. He felt her give up her place on the edge of the bed to her grandmother. Shortly thereafter he felt the first probings of her magic in his mind, causing him to reach out to his father in sudden fear. He really didn’t want to remember his time under Mundus’ rule, but he had to know what he had done to make his brother distrust him so much. He knew that there would be no chance of patching things up between the two of them until he did. He felt his father’s warm hand gently clasp his own and felt his presence settle down on the other side of the bed.
“I’m right here, Vergil.” his father’s voice said gently.
“Just do it.” Vergil whispered.
Sparda squeezed Vergil’s hand, then nodded at Zenedris, who then threw her magic against the barrier. The barrier pushed back, causing Vergil to whimper in sudden discomfort. Sparda closed his eyes, bracing himself to hear the sound of his son screaming. Zenedris probed the barrier, looking for a weakness of some kind, hoping that whoever cast the spell had not been skilled enough to do it properly. If whoever had been, then it was likely that Vergil’s memories were lost forever, as the barrier could not be broken without causing extreme pain and damage to his mind. She felt around for a bit, trying to ignore the small sounds of distress coming from Vergil, before she found a crack in the barrier. Grinning, she pushed against it hard, causing Vergil to cry out as it pushed back, nearly throwing her from his mind. She pushed back, putting her power behind the push, which caused Vergil to scream in sudden agony and force her out of his mind. Zenedris found herself against the wall across from the bed, and she realized that Vergil had to have mentally thrown her across the room. She stood up, wondering briefly how he had done it since his power seemed to be sealed away still, before focusing on Vergil, shaking in Sparda’s arms.
“I can’t make him do that again, Zenedris.” Sparda said quietly.
“No.” she agreed, standing up “We have to find the spellcaster.”
“How?”
“The signature of the spellcaster did feel familiar; I just have to figure out who it is. It feels something like yours and Talthos's, but not the same either.” She looked down at Vergil, who had his face hidden in Sparda’s shirt. “Let him rest, and we’ll try again once I find who cast the spell.” Sparda nodded, his attention back on his son, and she left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.
*****
Nestor glanced up at his reflection one more time as he straightened his robes. He had thought of simply sending a letter over to Lar’cincel, carried by one of his grandchildren, but with his refusing to bow down to Mundus, that was too much of a risk to take. He did not want any harm to befall any of his family. After a few moments of thought, he had decided that it was best that he went himself. He was the patriarch after all, and it was his responsibility to see that his family was safe. He had to do this.
That was not settling his nerves any.
He knew why he was so wary of facing Sparda Achida Sparda. His son was supposed to be responsible for Sirce’s death. Sirce was Nestor’s only daughter, and she had been the first female born in the Valters family in several thousand years. She had gone on a mission for Mundus and had never come back. All Mundus would say was that she had died at the hands of Sparda’s half breed son. Of course, after Mundus had sent the entire Valters family on that suicide mission to attack Dali’mar’ne, in which they lost three of their own, including Nestor's own youngest brother, Hector, he had began to doubt Mundus’ words.
Yes, Sirce was definitely dead; her name no longer appeared on the family ring, so that wasn’t in doubt. It was the manner and the mode of her death that he doubted. And that little voice of doubt was one of the reasons that he was going to Lar’cincel himself. He had heard that Sparda and his children and grandchildren were there, and he had to know. He had to get answers as to what had really happened to Sirce.
He looked at himself in the mirror again; he was as presentable as he could possibly be, so it was time to quit being a coward and go do what he intended to do. He stepped out of his bed chamber and proceeded towards the entrance doors of Kei'serse, his family’s tower. As he descended the stairs to the first floor, he heard running footsteps, and his son Kastor suddenly appeared.
“Father! Come, you must see this!”
Hearing the urgency, and the small touch of fear in the child’s words, Nestor ran the rest of the way down the stairs to where Kastor was standing, clutching a rolled scroll in his hands.
“It was delivered by one of the Bolverk family, Father.”
Nestor looked sharply at his son; one of the Bolverks had come to Kei’serse?!
“Why was I not informed of this!” he demanded icily. His older relatives were giving him enough grief over his running of the Valters family; he didn’t need them hearing that a Bolverk had come to the tower without his knowledge. He knew that it was only the patriarchal magic that allowed him to retain his position.
Kastor held his hands up in a gesture of helplessness. “We weren’t given a chance to summon you, Serse. The Bolverk came and went before anyone had a chance to think of calling for you. All he said was to make sure that you received that letter, then he turned and walked away without another word or gesture.”
Growling in irritation, Nestor unrolled the scroll and read what was written.
Greetings Nestor Valters,
As we are both aware, there has been a long standing feud between our two clans, so it is my hope that you will bother to read this letter before throwing it away. As I’m sure you’re aware, sharp bastard that you are, the Sparda clan is again being led by our dearly “departed” Sparda Achida Sparda. And of course, rumor has it that his sons and grandchildren are with him as well. I know that the death of your only daughter has something to do with one of Sparda’s two sons, so I am certain that you were on your way to Lar’cincel before you were handed this scroll to see what you could learn from him. I too, have my questions for the Sparda brat, and as such, am undertaking my own little trip to Lar’cincel to get my answers. Whether or not you decide to join me or not is up to you, but I do believe it is time to, temporarily at least, put the feud aside in our quests to get some answers. And of course, to see if we can ascertain the future of the Seven. While your family is no longer anywhere close to the strength of the Sarcesti, I’m certain that you are able to see the signs in front of us. Change is coming, and we would be fools to fight it. So will you join me, Nestor Valters? Or will you be the spineless fool that your family takes you for and stay safely hidden in your tower?
Join me,
Rithas Bolverk
Nestor absently rolled the scroll back up, his mind on Rithas’ offer. True there was a long standing feud between the Valters and Bolverk clans, though the last time it had erupted into a blood feud was thousands of years ago during his father’s lifetime. It had settled down after that, and the two families had enjoyed a tenuous peace for a while, but lately things had begun to escalate again. Nestor feared that it was only a matter of time until things erupted into bloodshed again. With all of that, willingly associating with each other was out of the question.
“What is it about, Father?” Kastor asked quietly. Nestor snapped abruptly back to reality at his son’s attention. He put the scroll into one of his hidden pockets.
“Nothing that you need to concern yourself with, Kastor. If anyone asks, I am going for a walk. They do not need to know anything else.”
“Father, surely you cannot be thinking of -”
“I said you do not need to be concerned with it, Kastor.”
“But, Father, you cannot be thinking of going along with a Bolverk!”
Nestor winced and glanced out of the corner of his eye to see if anyone else was around. Seeing and sensing no one, he hastily grabbed Kastor by the arm and dragged him upstairs. He pulled the boy into a empty room, shut the door, and put up the most powerful locking and silencing spells he knew. Once he was assured that no one would be able to hear them, he turned to his son.
“As I know you know, Kastor, some of our family do not trust me, and believe that I am unfit to be leading this family.” he growled “The magic of this ring-” He held up the patriarchal ring decorated with the Valters family crest up so it would be in Kastor’s sight. “-is the only reason I hold this position. Now think, boy! You know what has been going on in our world for the past several years. You know of the events that took place before your birth! The disappearance of your grandparents, Sparda’s rebellion, the sudden disappearance of one of the Sarcesti clan! Now think on what has happened since your birth: the resulting of the feud, for no apparent reason I might add, the deaths of your uncle and cousins, the thefts of artifacts from family vaults, the disappearance of your sister! Add all of that to the strange desire of Mundus’ part to attack and imprison the Sarcesti clan, and what do you have, Kastor?”
Kastor frowned, thinking hard on the question. Kastor was a good boy, Nestor thought, but he was a little slow. Nestor hoped fervorently that he would speed up, as he was in line for the patriarchy, and the other clan heads would tear him apart if they thought that they could get by with it. Even seemingly benign families like the Sparda and the Sarcesti would ruthlessly destroy anything considered weak that could upset the balance between the Seven. Nestor knew that he would not be able to bear losing another child. He did have another child, his son Hital, but losing his daughter twenty two years ago had been enough. More than enough actually.
Kastor nodded to himself. “Something is going to happen.” he said quietly “Something big.”
Nestor nodded. “I don’t know what exactly is going to happen, but I’ve been having thoughts of this for a long time, ever since your grandfather disappeared, leaving me to raise your uncles myself.”
Kastor nodded; he had never met his grandfather, but he had been raised on stories of him.
“What do you want me to do, Father?” he said quietly.
“Do nothing. If anyone asks about me, simply say that I went to Lar’cincel. Do NOT mention the letter from Rithas Bolverk, or my suspicions. Understood?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good.” Nestor dispelled the spells he had put on the door and casually walked out. Kastor did not follow him.
*****
“There is one other thing that I have been wondering about.” Alastair remarked as she polished the Alastor sword. It was purely a nervous gesture, as the sword had not been used since the encounter with Luxian three days previous and was clean. She needed something to keep her hands busy; her instincts had been screaming a warning to her over the last several hours, though she had no idea what had her so tense. The Alastor had also been acting strangely, crackling with lightning almost continuously, something that it normally only did when she was under a threat of some kind.
Sparda lowered his book and looked at her. “What is that?” he asked.
“How did the Yamato come to hold part of Uncle Vergil’s soul?”
“So he managed to turn it into an Ensouled?” Sparda asked. Alastair nodded.
“Oh dear, how did he manage to do that?” Sparda smirked, which confused his granddaughter. Why would he be smirking?
“That is what me, Dad, and Vergil want to know.” She gave him a calculating look. “Are you sure you don’t know something?”
“Maybe I do.” he replied with an innocent look “I guess you’ll just have to ask him when he wakes up.” Alastair growled; now she knew where her father came by that infuriating habit. Sparda smirked again and returned to his book. But he didn’t get to read any further.
“Sparda.” Atalia came into the room, still dressed in the Sarcesti type robes “We have potential trouble at the door.”
Sparda’s face abruptly lost all traces of humor, morphing into a mask of seriousness. The change came so suddenly that Alastair had to shake her head and look again to make sure that she wasn’t imagining things. He calmly laid his book aside and stood up.
“What is it?”
“Rithas Bolverk and Nestor Valters are at the door.”
The Alastor sword, lying across Alastair’s lap, crackled with electricity.
“Stay in here, Alastair.” Sparda said firmly “I will return once I have seen to our guests.” Sparda strode from the room, and Alastair looked to Atalia with a questioning look.
“What’s so big about them being here?” she asked.
“Those two families have been feuding for thousands of years, Alastair.” Atalia replied quietly “For the two patriarchs to be here, together, without killing each other, signifies that something important is happening. And of course, they probably want a word with your father.”
“Why?”
“Who did your father face and kill on Dumary Island?”
Comprehension dawned on Alastair’s face. “Bolverk.” she said quietly.
“Yes, Bolverk Vimors Bolverk, former patriarch to Clan Bolverk, father of Rithas Bolverk.”
“Okay, that explains why Rithas Bolverk wants to talk with Dad, but why Nestor Valters?”
“Alastair, what was your mother’s name?”
“Sirce... Valters... oh, I see.”
“Yes. No doubt Mundus told Nestor that your father was the reason why his daughter never came home.” “His daughter? That makes him my grandfather!”
Atalia nodded. “He is Alastor’s-” She nodded at the still crackling sword. “- oldest son, who became patriarch after the deaths of his uncle and cousins. No doubt that Nestor will be most eager to meet you, as female children in the Valters family are rare, and you carry his father’s Ensouled, which vanished along with Alastor himself.”
Alastair eyed the sword, causing it to quiet under her gaze.
“The sword was lost?” she said.
Atalia nodded again. “Your father was the first person to lay eyes on it in two and a half millennia. I imagine Nestor will be shocked and angered to see it in your hands until he realizes who you are. It would be like seeing your grandfather’s Ensouled in the hands of someone other than a Sparda.”
“It wouldn’t seem right.”
“No, so expect Nestor to react badly to seeing you at first.” Atalia cocked her head to the side. “That sounds like them now.”
*****
Nestor tried to ignore the presence of the Bolverk beside him as they followed Sparda Achida Sparda into Lar’cincel. The Sparda patriarch had not been surprised to see them, and had only given them the briefest of greetings before inviting them in. He led them through the short entrance hall and stopped in front of a pair of closed doors. He turned to give them each a piercing look, the warning in his eyes plain, before turning back and opening the doors and leading them in.
Nestor was the second through the door, and he let his gaze wander around the room, looking for threats and possible dangers before the crackle of electricity drew him to a chair several feet away from him. A Sparda female was sitting there, looking at him warily, a sword across her lap. As he watched, the blade crackled with electricity, from the tip of the blade to the pommel of the hilt and dragon shaped handguard.... His father’s Ensouled!
Nestor snarled and strode forward to take what was rightfully his. The Sparda girl held the sword protectively close as he reached out to take it out of her arms. As he extended his hand to grip the hilt, blue lightning danced across it and jumped to his fingertips, giving him a nasty shock. He jerked his hand back with a cry of surprise, feeling a sense of reproach from the fragment of his father’s soul contained within. “Father..” he said softly, questioningly “Why?”
“The sword is hers by right of blood and power.” Sparda said quietly “You cannot take it from her.” Nestor looked at his father’s Ensouled, sensing his father’s presence within, and wishing that the elder demon had never left that day. Alastor and his wife, Lilith, had undertaken a journey to the human world, leaving the nineteen century old Nestor to mind his three younger brothers. The pair had never returned, and Alastor’s name had vanished from the patriarchal ring, showing that he had died in some way. Nestor had been left to raise his brothers, and he had always been left wondering exactly what had happened to his parents, as well as his father’s sword.
Now he was looking at the Alastor, held by someone who had rights to it by blood?
“Blood?” he said, looking at the girl, who was leveling him with a glare and still holding the sword close to her. She nodded.
“Nice to meet you, my dear grandfather.” she said sarcastically, looking more than a little annoyed at his method of greeting.
Nestor stumbled backwards in shock, flopping down into a chair that was pushed up behind him.
“Granddaughter?” he uttered, his eyes wide in shock.
Rithas rolled his eyes. “Honestly Valters, didn’t you even ask your daughter what she was being sent to the human world for?”
Nestor snarled. “Of course I did, but she wouldn’t say.”
“Then why didn’t you force her to answer you? You have the patriarchal magic, damnit, why didn’t you use it?”
“That is enough!” The pair jumped and looked over at the Sparda girl, who had risen to her feet. She was glaring at them in irritation, the Alastor raised threateningly in front of her. She growled. “Sit down and shut up.”
Warily eyeing the crackling sword in her hands, they sat back down.
“Good.” she said, then nodded at Sparda. “Grandpa?”
Sparda chuckled. “I think we had better let your father explain this one, my dear.”
“Hmph, might as well then.” Sparda chuckled again and stepped over to the door, calling out some strange human name that Nestor had never heard before. A few moments later, the person that he had been meaning to have a talk with came into the room. Nestor stood up.
“So you’re the one that Mundus tells me killed my daughter?” he said coldly. The half breed shrugged. “If that is what he told you then yes. Otherwise, the answer is no.” He looked over at the Sparda girl. “It’s not like I didn’t get anything out of it.”
Nestor looked over at his granddaughter, sensing for the first time the power of lightning and water that she possessed. He looked back at the half breed.
“Your and Sirce’s daughter?” he asked.
The half breed nodded, still looking at his daughter. “Sirce left after she was born. Her body was dumped on the front steps of my office three days later.”
“Why was she sent to you?” Nestor demanded, trying to ignore the stab in his heart at the acknowledgment that his daughter was dead.
“From what little she told me, it seems Mundus was hoping that I would get her pregnant so he could use the child as a hostage against me. If that failed, he was going to raise her to fight me. I imagine that when Sirce returned here without a child in her arms, he was quite furious and killed her for her failure.” Nestor looked down at the floor. The half breed’s story was certainly more believable than Mundus’.
“I hate to break up this heart warming moment,” Rithas sneered “but I do believe that we came here for a reason, Valters. Shall we get to it now?”
Nestor took a deep breath. “Right, let’s get to the point.
Rithas looked at the half breed. “I have my own questions for you, but they can wait until later.” The half breed nodded in acquiescence, and Rithas turned back to Sparda.
“What do you know of what is going on?” the Bolverk asked bluntly.
Sparda shook his head. “Not much more than you, I’m afraid, though I have suspicions.”
“Yessssss,” Rithas hissed “suspicions. I think that we all have plenty of those right now. The question is; what do we do with them?”
“I know that Mundus is planning something.” Nestor added quietly “I’m certain that as of now, he is planning some retribution against my family for refusing his orders and seceding away from him.”
“Why would you do that?” Sparda asked, not unkindly.
Nestor let out a bitter laugh. “He wanted us to attack this tower and capture the combined power of the Sparda and Sarcesti families. Do you think I was insane enough to order that only a year after I lit funeral pyres for three of my family who died during the siege on Dali’mar’ne?” His laugh turned into an angry snarl. “I told him to quote ‘Go to hell.’”
Sparda laughed lightly. “I suppose not. What about you, Bolverk? What suspicions have you?”
“That imperial idiot is planning to do something stupid.” Rithas said bluntly “Something that will only cause trouble for us. What about you, Sparda?”
Now it was Sparda’s turn to laugh bitterly. “That monster murdered my son and ordered the death of my second wife, the imprisonment of my son, and the imprisonment of my father in his own body? Do I really need to voice my suspicions?”
“He has quite a bit to answer for.” Nestor remarked.
“That he does.” Rithas said dangerously “And now, Sparda, I have a question for the half breed over there.”
Sparda raised one eyebrow. “His name is Dante.”
“Pardon?”
“If you are going to speak to my son, call him by his name. His name is Dante.”
“Fine.” Rithas snarled “Dante, why did you kill my father?”
Dante looked startled. “Your father?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes, the spearman that you faced on that damned island. That was my father. Why did you kill him?”
“Because it was either him or me, and I chose myself.”
Rithas growled threateningly and started to rise, but a warning glare from Sparda made him sit back down. “Why in the hell was he there?” Rithas snarled “What did you do to make him come after you?”
“Whoa, I didn’t do a damn thing. HE came after me, after he sicced his pet wolves on me first. I did what I had to do to survive, and to be honest with you, I’m certain I survived only because he was overconfident in his ability to take down a -” Dante sneered at Nestor and Rithas. “- half breed such as myself.”
Nestor looked at Rithas in puzzlement. “Why was your father there? I heard that the events on Dumary Island were the work of Argosax the Chaos, not Mundus.”
“That is what I am hoping to find out.” Rithas growled.
“Then why are you asking me?” Dante wondered “I didn’t tell him to come and try to slaughter me. Why don’t you ask Mundus? That murderer might actually tell you something.”
Nestor snorted, but he had to admit that the half breed had a good idea. Mundus just might be arrogant enough to do just that. From the look on the Bolverk’s face, he was thinking along the same lines. Though, he knew that the proud demon would never admit that a half breed had given him an idea.
Nestor crossed his arms. “I believe that it would be a good idea to get a hold of the other clan patriarchs and see if they have any suspicions as well. I have a feeling that we may need all of them when Mundus hatches whatever dimwitted scheme that he is scheming. And we all agree that he is scheming something.”
Sparda nodded. “Yes, he is up to something. I’ve often wondered why he kept me alive after I was captured, and I believe that he wanted me to see something.”
“He wanted you to see they destruction of you family, didn’t he?” Alastair spoke up for the first time since the conversations began.
“That was part of it, I’m sure, but that is not all. He could have easily killed me after your grandmother was murdered, and your uncle lost himself, but he did not. He wanted me to see something.”
“Let us discuss it further after the other clan heads are here.” Rithas said “The Sarcesti matriarch is here, correct?”
Sparda nodded. “Yes, she is, so that leaves the Ximorn, Itarls, and Sri families left.”
“How will we contact them?” Nestor asked “Mundus may be a fool, but he can be smart on occasion. If he sees us getting in contact with one another, he may get suspicious of our actions.”
“Let me handle that.” Sparda said calmly “He’s been expecting me to do that, I’m sure, and hearing from me will certainly get their attention. I just need you to tell me who the patriarchs are now.”
Rithas nodded. “We can do that.”
“Good, then let’s get started.”
Chapter 13 -- Chapter 15
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