The Devils Cry Chapter 2-18

[eiahmon]

Title: The Devils Cry Part 2 Chapter 18
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.

18.

Talthos sat quietly in the small room at the top of Lar’cincel, watching Kastor and Alastair walk together across the plain towards Kei’serse. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on them. He had seen everything from the window and so knew that Kastor was the Valters patriarch now, and he wondered what had befallen Nestor. He had also heard what Kastor had said about Nestor being the rightful patriarch.

Talthos sighed; he was still weak from being in stasis for so long, so the Sparda patriarchy was with Sparda. As soon as he was well enough though, it would likely jump back to him.

He didn’t want it.

He knew, logically, that the events that had taken place all those years ago had been out of his control, but he still blamed himself for the family falling apart on his watch. As far as he was concerned, he had failed to do his job properly, and as such, he was a failure himself.

He heard footsteps coming up the narrow stairway that led to the room he was in, and his senses alerted him to the presence of Zenedris Sarcesti.

The door opened behind him.

“Talthos?” He didn’t raise his head or greet her. She sat down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” He shook his head.

“What is wrong?”

“I failed.”

“Failed? You’ve never failed at anything.”

“I failed my family.”

“Oh Talthos, Luxian’s actions are not your fault. You did not tell him what to do. You were locked away; how could you have done anything?” Talthos buried his face in his arms.

“I told Sparda to do what he thought was right. I didn’t stop Nakisa and Areceli from leaving that day. I didn’t try to correct Luxian’s perceptions of his brother’s actions. I failed.”

“You did the best you could. There is nothing wrong with trying.” She pulled him towards her. He didn’t resist, leaning against her, and felt her arms come around him. He appreciated the gesture, even as he reminded himself that they were too closely related to do what he was thinking of. He let her comfort him for a few moments before he pulled away, thinking seriously about a cold bath. She chuckled.

“Kastor Valters brought me something.” she said. Talthos looked at her. She held out a small canvas sack to him. “Look inside.” Taking the sack from her and pulling open the drawstring, he looked inside to see books, hundreds of them, all shrunk down to tiny size to fit inside. He looked up at her to see her grinning. “Yes,” she said, answering his unspoken question “The Sarcesti library, which Nestor had hid in his own private library for the past year and just now returned to me. Care to help me research ways of, how do the humans say it? give Mundus hell?”

Talthos smiled weakly and nodded. Some magical mayhem sounded like just the thing for him.

*****

“You gotta see what I found, Verg!” Dante said breathlessly “It’s so cool!”

Vergil raised his head from his books just high enough to sneer at his brother’s excitement. “That’s what you said last time, and all it was, was some abandoned storage closet.”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know that it was just a loose stone, not the entrance to a hidden passage?”

Vergil rolled his eyes. “Leave me alone, Dante, I’m trying to read.” He turned his attention back to the book in front of him. It was The Lord of the Rings, that his father had translated into the demons’ language to help the two of them in learning it. Vergil read it often; it reminded him of when his father was still around. He vaguely heard Dante come up behind him, and a second later, an insistent tugging on his shirt.

“But I really found a secret passage this time, Verg! You gotta see it!” For a fifteen year old, Dante could be surprisingly immature at times, at least Vergil thought so.

“Leave me alone, Dante!” He pulled his shirt out of his brother’s grip. “I want to be alone!”

“That’s all you ever want, Vergil! Ever since Dad died...”

Vergil was out of his chair in a second, grabbing Dante by the collar and shaking him roughly. “Don’t say he’s dead! Don’t say it! He’s alive, and he’s going to come home to us!”

Dante sighed and pulled himself out of his brother’s grip. “It’s been three years, Vergil. He ain’t coming home.”

Vergil snarled and returned to his chair. “Yes, he is.” He heard Dante sigh again.

“Will you at least put the book away long enough to come see what I found?” he asked, sounding timidly hopeful. Vergil let his head hit the desk; he hated it when Dante used that tone. He just couldn’t say no to it.

“Alright, fine, but it had better be something good this time!”

Dante grinned. “You’re gonna love it! C’mon!”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes again, Vergil followed his brother out of his room and down the corridor to the stairs. They went upstairs to the third floor, and Dante stopped in front of one of the support columns that supported the massive roof. He began running his fingers along it, and Vergil was about to say something scathing, when he heard a soft click, and a door opened up, revealing a stairway leading down. Vergil’s eyes widened; Dante had really found a hidden passage!

“Do you know where it leads?” he asked. Dante shook his head.

“I didn’t wanna explore it without you.” he replied. Vergil winced inwardly; his twin was so good at making him feel like a heel. “Wanna see where it goes?”

Vergil nodded. “Let’s.” Dante grinned happily and stepped inside. Vergil followed him. Almost immediately they were plunged into total blackness, though the two could easily sense the stairs beneath them. The stairs spiraled downward, and as they descended, they could hear a rumbling coming from somewhere below. They could feel it too; the stone walls and steps seemed to reverberate with it.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here, bro.” Dante said quietly, the adventurous spirit gone from his voice.

“I think you’re right, but I want to see where this goes. Dad said he designed this castle, so I wonder what he wanted to hide.”

“Are you sure you want to find out?”

To be honest, no, Vergil wasn’t sure, but if he didn’t follow the stairs down, his curiosity would be eating him alive later. He never noticed Dante lagging behind. The stairs continued down, and Vergil guessed that they must be, to judge by the cooler air, below ground.

“Man,” Dante remarked, somewhat nervously “Dad must’ve really wanted no one to find whatever is down here.”

Vergil nodded in agreement, though his gaze was riveted on a door that had come into view a few feet away. He stopped just in front of it, waiting for Dante to catch up. Both of them could plainly tell that the rumbling was coming from the other side of that door. Without hesitating, Vergil reached out and opened the door.

Red light flooded the stairway, and both boys stared in wide eyed wonder at the seal set in the floor, though they didn’t know what it was.

“Wow!” Dante was wide eyed “What is that?”

Vergil was just as wide eyed as his brother. “I think it might be...” He trailed off. Would his Dad had built his castle, his home, over a Hellgate?

“Verg look! It’s getting brighter!” Sure enough, as they watched the red glow brightened, and began to pulse in time to some large, invisible heart.

Vergil gasped and stepped back. “Something’s coming through it.” As the two boys watched, too frightened to stay, but equally too frightened to turn their backs to it and run, a shape gradually took form above the seal.

“It’s Dad!” Dante yelled, beginning to run forward. Vergil followed, eager to see his father again, but something stopped him. The figure didn’t quite look like Sparda, there was an obvious resemblance but...

“Dante stop! That’s not Dad!” Dante realized that fact at the same time, skidding to a halt only feet from the intruder. The person looked familiar, and Vergil realized who it was - their father had warned them about this person - just as the person drew an enormous sword and narrowly missed cutting Dante in half.

“Dante, run!”

Dante ran back towards the door, past Vergil and up the stairs. Vergil scrambled after him, hoping to get upstairs and warn their mother before their demonic uncle reached them. Vergil barely saw the stairs as he practically flew up them. All he focused on was Dante’s running figure a few feet ahead of him and reaching the top of the stairway.

The pair burst out of the door at the top of the stairs and ran down the corridor, screaming for their mother. They could sense Luxian coming up behind them at a more casual pace, but they both knew that the full demon could cover the distance between them and him in an instant. Eva appeared at the end of the corridor, guns in hand, and Vergil remembered that she had been a demon hunter before their birth. She waved them down the stairs with one hand, firing one of their father’s pistols at Luxian with the other.

Determined not to let his mother face him alone, Vergil ran down to his room, Dante shouting behind him to ask where he was going. He snatched Yamato from its wall rack and went back up the stairs. Dante took the cue and retrieved Rebellion before joining him.

Eva was not happy to see them reappear.

“What are you doing here?!” she demanded “Get out!”

“Come with us, Mom!” Dante yelled “We won’t leave you!”

She shoved him away. “GO! Run!”

“Yes boys, run. Let your dear mommy protect you from the big, bad demon.” Luxian taunted “Let her die for you.”

Vergil snarled; he had already lost his father. He would not lose his mother! He charged forward, drawing the Yamato as he went, only to be harmlessly batted away by the flat of Luxian’s sword. He was knocked to the floor and looked up to see his mother shove Dante away from her.

“Run, damnit, RUN!” Dante hesitated, looking to Vergil like he always did. Vergil nodded.

Dante turned and disappeared from sight. A second later, Vergil was kicked out of the way, and he looked up through pain hazed eyes to see Luxian dart forward and knock the pistol out of his mother’s hand. He tried to get to his feet and run to her as Luxian grabbed her around the chest, spun her around, and placed the edge of his sword against her throat. As Vergil ran towards them, intent on pulling her out of his grasp, time seemed to slow down as the hallway appeared to stretch into forever. The world around him fell silent at Luxian drew the blade across her throat. Blood sprayed as Vergil screamed in denial...

*****

“NO!”

Vergil jumped into a sitting position, suddenly wide awake. He leaned forward, gasping for breath as the dream faded.

No, not a dream, a memory. Why did it have to be THAT? The night his mother was murdered, and he was taken by his uncle was the first memory he recovered. Wonderful.

“You remembered it too, huh.” It wasn’t a question. Vergil looked up, startled, to see Dante straddling a chair at the foot of the bed. He nodded.

“Yeah,” Dante said quietly “That was the memory that made me pass out back there. My whole life I’ve had a lingering sense of guilt and no idea where it came from. I knew it had something to do with you and Mom, but I was never sure why. Now I know it was because I ran, while you stayed. I jumped out of a second story window and barely felt the landing. Rachel arrived right after that, but it was too late. Mom was dead, and you were gone. The was a large puddle of blood where you had fallen, so I assumed that you had been killed. I guess I lapsed into shock after that, and I don’t remember the Rachel taking me to her home. Hell, I don’t remember the next month or so. My brain said you were dead, but my heart and soul said otherwise. When I came around, I looked for you as much as I could, but Rachel made me stop after awhile. I was exhausting myself, and she refused to let me run myself into the ground.” Dante closed his eyes and turned his face away.

“Luxian...” Vergil swallowed before continuing. “He slashed my throat open and let me bleed out before ramming me headfirst into the wall.” He looked around the room. “I woke up in this tower. Luxian gave me no time to grieve, no time to adjust being in the demon world. As soon as I was awake, he began to teach me, to mold me into the perfect puppet warrior for Mundus. He wasn’t a patient teacher. When I failed to meet his standards or refused to do something, he would beat me viciously, then he would make me do whatever again, before I had even had a chance to heal. I didn’t want to become what he wanted. I’m sure that is why he blocked my memories and stole part of my soul. It made it easier to control me and put me on the path that he wanted me to follow.”

“Do you remember everything?” Dante asked.

“No, there are several years that are badly faded or missing, in between Temen-ni-gru and Vergil’s conception. I may not ever remember those years, and I really don’t want to. I think those are the years that I lost to the torture.”

“Do you remember Mallet now?”

“Vaguely. You kicked my ass quite soundly.”

Dante grinned. “Three times.” Vergil smiled; it was true. Then his smile fell; Mundus had been furious with him. So had Luxian.

“Vergil, who is the ‘her’ that you keep referring to?” Dante asked gently.

Vergil shuddered and hung his head, looking down at his hands lying on the blankets. “Trish.” he answered quietly.

“I was afraid of that.” Dante whispered “I was in love with her once, you know, but I used to wonder why Mundus would build a construct to look like Mom. Just to lure me to Mallet? Sounds like an awful lot of trouble if you ask me, not that Mundus is always rational.”

Vergil snorted. “That is the truth. But he built the construct to torture me, to scramble my mind, to make it impossible for me to tell the difference between dreams and reality, lies and truth. I say it worked quite well.”

Now it was Dante’s turn to snort. “I’ll say. Dad’s Ensouled hated her, absolutely loathed her. She used it for seventeen months and got not one damned iota of power out of it. Now I know why.” He laid his head down on the back of the chair and was silent for a moment. “I should have stayed, Verg.”

Vergil looked at him sharply. “No, you shouldn’t have. If you had stayed, it would have been both of us standing on top of the Temen-ni-gru, only then, we would have been cooperating to break the seal. So don’t you dare say that you should have stayed.” He sighed. “One of us had to continue in Dad’s footsteps. Funny how it ended up being the one who acted nothing like him.”

Dante chuckled. Then he stood up from the chair and held out his hand to his twin. “C’mon, let’s go downstairs and hang out with our kids, well your kid anyway. Mine‘s off on vengeance and rescue. Besides, we haven’t harassed Dad with our ability to speak at the same time in years.”

Vergil managed a laugh. “I suppose that’s past due then.”

Dante grinned. “Way past due. C’mon let’s go.” Vergil climbed out of bed, and, still chuckling, went downstairs.

*****

Thenal Bolverk cautiously opened the library doors, looking carefully to see if anyone was inside before stepping through the door and closing them behind him. The dark, dusty - for it was rarely used - room was filled with scents. He could smell old pages, cracked, dried leather (Made of 100% real human skin!), paraffin wax (again, from humans) layers of dust, his uncle, his father, and...!

Blood.

Thenal looked quickly around the room, and his gaze fell immediately on the podium and the overturned stool. He stepped closer to the podium, seeing the open books and the blood that covered the dark wood and that was drying on the floor. He also saw the hole in it, a hold that was made by a lance tip. His eyes narrowed, and he was about to storm from the room in search of his uncle when his gaze landed once more on the open books on the podium. Looking at one, he saw it opened to an entry for a Lemian Bolverk. He raised an eyebrow; he had never heard that name before, and all Bolverk children were required to study the family history and bloodline. Looking at the other book, he saw that it was open to yet another entry for Lemian Bolverk. This time, he read that the boy had been ejected from the family and taken in by the Valters. He frowned thoughtfully; something was important about this information, he knew it. His father hated to read.

Something must have caught his interest to cause him to sit down at a task that he hated. Closing the books, he secreted them under his clothes. Part of him was certain that his father had been attacked, maybe even killed, for the information in the two volumes. He would find out what, even if it meant going to Lord Valters.

Then he would find his uncle and kill that traitorous, backstabbing bastard.

*****

Rithas groaned in pain as he returned to consciousness. Immediately, he berated himself for showing such an obvious sign of weakness when he didn’t know where he was or who was with him. He went to sit up, but he gasped as agony flared in his chest, knocking him back down to the floor. He weakly raised his head to see the large hole in his shirt and the new skin underneath. The wound was large, but not fatal, though he thought that it should have healed already. He ran his fingers across it, trying to find what was impeding its healing and found nothing. He ran his hand up his chest to his throat, and they brushed something cold and metallic. He ran his fingers across it, feeling the seam where it had been closed, and he suddenly knew that it was a power blocking collar, and it was that that had kept him from healing. He wondered briefly what had happened to him, before he remembered: the books, Lemian Bolverk, the attack from behind, his lungs being ripped out his back. Elsec! His eyes narrowed, and he tried to growl, but doing caused his injured chest to vibrate painfully. He laid his head down on the fleshy substance of the floor to wait for the pain to subside.

Floor? Fleshy substance?

Taking a quick look around, grimacing at the pain moving his head around caused him, he saw that he was in a cell, most likely in the Forgotten Levels. And he wasn’t alone. In the far corner lay a silver haired figure, and he dimly recognized Nestor Valters. The back of the Valters lord’s head was crushed, his neck was bent at an unnatural angle, and his hair was tangled and matted with dark red blood. He also had a collar around his neck. Rithas wondered what had happened to the older demon, since assassination of the patriarch attempts were almost unheard of in the other families. Had someone in his own family tried to kill him, or was this his punishment for going against Mundus?

Rithas laid his head back down, suppressing another groan of pain from his wounded chest.

Was this how humans felt an injury?

He would never scorn humans for being weak again.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the agony in his chest, and tried to rest. Hopefully his chest would heal at least some while he was asleep, then he could better think about what to do.

*****

Kastor looked up from his plotting when there was a soft knock at the door and Hital stepped in.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Brother.” he said quietly “But you have a visitor.”

Kastor smiled softly at his younger brother to show that he wasn’t angry. Hital was taking Nestor’s sudden disappearance hard. “Who is it?”
 

“Thenal Bolverk, my lord.”

Kastor looked at him in shock. Thenal Bolverk? At Kei’serse? This was unheard of! He glanced over at Alastair, who shrugged. He turned back to Hital.

“Bring him up.”

“Yes, Brother, right away.”

“I wonder why Rithas Bolverk didn’t come.” Alastair wondered “I got the impression that Thenal didn’t like you.” Kastor shrugged; he didn’t know either. He sat down at his father’s desk, trying to ignore the pink tinge on the floor where his father had evidently lain, and gestured for Alastair to sit down nearby, putting the desk, and him, between her and Thenal. Unfortunately, Himar, Mesim, and Exis had vanished, so he couldn’t force them to tell what they had done with Nestor. He growled softly and clenched his fists; he would find them eventually, and make them talk. Then he would make them pay. He was broke from his thoughts when, a few moments later, the door opened and Hital stepped in.

“Thenal Bolverk.” he announced before stepping aside and allowing the demon in question to come into the room. He then backed out and shut the doors behind him. Kastor waved the dark haired demon to a seat, noting that Hital had not introduced him as “Lord Thenal Bolverk”, and was surprised when he pulled two books out from under his coat and laid them on the desk.

“I need you help.” he said simply.

“With what?” Kastor asked, wondering what was so severe and important that one of the Bolverk Clan was asking a Valters for help.

“My father was attacked, maybe even killed,” Thenal replied “When he was attacked, he was reading something in these books. The information intrigued me, since my father hates to read, and I was hoping that you could tell me more.”

“What is it he was looking at?” Kastor asked, a little curious himself now.

Thenal opened the first book, turned it around, and pushed it across the desk to him.

“Lemian Bolverk.” he said simply, once Kastor had glanced at it “I have never heard that name, and all Bolverk children are required to study those books. His mother was the daughter of the then Valters patriarch.” He opened the second book and pushed it over to Kastor. “As a young child he was ousted by his family due to his weakness and taken in by the Valters family. From there, there are no more records of him. I was hoping that your records picked up where mine left off.”

Kastor looked down thoughtfully at the books for a moment. He noted the dates on the entries, before turning to Alastair.

“Go into the library over there.” he said, gesturing towards the door “And find me volume twelve of the family records.” Alastair nodded and stood up from her chair and disappeared through the door. She returned a minute later, carrying a heavy tome, which she handed to Kastor before sitting back down. Kastor opened the book and flipped through it, looking for the entry for Arilan Valters. He found it in short order and looked over it.

Arilan Valters
Father: Sirke Valters
Mother: Zircas Sarcesti
Nothing unusual about the child’s birth.
Married to: Telis Valters
Children: Daughter, Ilin Valters Son, Masi Valters Daughter, Sese Valters
Adopted his grandson, Lemian Bolverk, when the boy was five centuries of age. The child was ousted from the Bolverks due to weak physical strength and an unusually high magic level.

He pushed the book across the desk to Thenal, who looked it over for a moment.

“So we know that his grandfather took him in.” Thenal said “What happened to him after that?”

Kastor took the book back. “He should be in this book somewhere.” he said, flipping through the pages again. He looked for a few minutes before he frowned in confusion. “That can’t be right.”

“What is it, Valters?”

“He’s not in here. Anywhere. He was adopted, he should be in this book.”

“Maybe a later one?” Alastair suggested helpfully.

“Yes,” Kastor trailed off as she left the room and returned with volumes thirteen and fourteen. Taking them from her, he quickly looked through them and didn’t find Lemian Bolverk anywhere. “Something is wrong with this. He was adopted by the patriarch; a record of him must have existed here.”

“Maybe he was ousted from the Valters family as well?” Thenal suggested.

“That is a possibility.” Kastor replied, tapping the book with one long fingernail. Thenal stood up.

“I must leave now.” he said “I have to... take care of something at home. Would you be able to continue searching for information? I have a feeling that whatever you may discover is important.” He paused for a moment, then added: “Our fathers called a truce between them for the sake of the Seven. I think we should do the same.”

Kastor smiled slightly and stood up. “Agreed.” he said “We have more important things to concern ourselves with.”

“True.” Thenal looked into Kastor’s eyes, blood red meeting electric blue. “I hope that you find your father alive.” Kastor could see the sincerity in the gaze.

“I hope that you do as well.” he said, reaching out to take Thenal’s hand. Demons didn’t really shake hands, they just clasped them for a moment, often squeezing hard enough to crush a human’s hand. Thenal looked surprised for a moment at the offered hand, before taking it. The two stood still for a moment before releasing each other. Thenal was met by Hital at the study door and escorted out of the tower. Kastor stood there for a moment, before he turned to Alastair.

“Shall we continue where we left off?” he asked.

She grinned, a predatory gleam coming into her eyes. “Let’s.”

 

Chapter 17 --Chapter 19

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