Chapter Text
They traveled in more of the awkward silence.
Vergil spent little time with Sparda off the saddle. Sparda would make attempts at conversation on occasion, almost always met with silence or perfunctory responses. Sparda was not going to budge as proven in the days past. However, neither would Vergil. He would win this battle of will, he was always stubborn. Deep down, he begrudgingly understood...he understood Sparda's distrust. That did not this apparent punishment any less unfair.
Even if they had gone days being undisturbed and even if the demonic aura in the air had dwindled significantly thanks to Sparda's sacrifices, Vergil couldn't stay weaponless.
He would usually sit by himself during the rests, focusing on his infernal energy. They were taking the byroads again, meaning they interacted with few to no humans. The quiet of nature and woods were soothing and helped Vergil focus.
The noxious effects of Nyx's venom had gone beyond impeding his healing. Vergil...had tried very hard to not think about the details of that day in Nyx's lair, the same way he didn't really think about his other problems. But Nyx was a present problem and Vergil had to know.
Her venom, it almost seemed to be trying to tear him apart, not just in body but it had been corroding his very infernal energy. That had to be why he had been unable to heal himself or put up a better fight.
Vergil fumed, angry with himself. He had been drinking that poison for who knows how long. He might as well have offered himself to Nyx on a silver platter. Even if he was healed now, it was something that never should have happened in the first place. Foolish.
Messing with his very infernal soul...they weren't quite the same, Nyx wasn't remotely as powerful but Vergil was reminded of Mundus yet again...his tendrils, his wretched hands tearing Vergil apart and into a thousand pieces before piecing him back together in the abomination that was Nelo Angelo...
Vergil suddenly felt hot all over. He fell forward on his hands and knees, dry-heaving, hyperventilating.
No no no, it couldn't happen again, it hadn't happened in so long, Vergil had to be over this by now.
Mundus is sealed away, get yourself together!
Hands on his face. Not his own though. But familiar. Calming.
Vergil's vision cleared and Sparda's worried visage came into focus. He must have felt Vergil's distress, maybe was always watching out for him. "Vergil, breathe." Sparda uttered. "Do not be afraid—"
Vergil quickly got back to his feet. The world swayed for a moment but he started walking anyways.
So much for relaxation.
Why, why did his nightmares have to return to haunt him now?
He shouldn't need Sparda to feel safe. He shouldn't need anyone. He shouldn't be so...weak anymore. He clenched his fists in frustration.
He passed by Luce and returned to the cave they had designated as their resting place. He sat down against the wall and looked for food in his bag. Jerkies was all they had now. He began munching on one quietly.
Sparda arrived shortly after. Vergil didn't look at him, didn't need to to feel his anger. Sparda had put up with being ignored for a week. He had had enough, it seemed. Good.
"You are one big baby, did you know that?" He snapped. Vergil kept munching on his jerky, did not even bother to look up at Sparda.
Sparda fumed at being ignored. "Is it because I left you alone that evening?" Frustration was evident in his voice. "I sincerely apologize my weakness inconveniences you and your perfect existence!" Back to his snarky attitude already. This time with sarcasm.
Vergil sneered at Sparda. Sparda glared back, violet eyes burning much like in that evening—
Vergil turned away again. He shouldn't get angry, he shouldn't–wouldn't hurt Sparda again despite his lies and idiocy.
Sparda scoffed. "How old are you, Vergil? You must be at least 30 but you don't act like it. You little boy!"
How old was he? Vergil knew it was a rhetorical question, meant to rile him up but...he had thought about it before but now he remembered again. He fell into Mundus's grasp when he was nineteen. He had been Nelo Angelo for...was it ten years? Yes, it had to be, he remembered. And how long did he spend lost and adrift and helpless after that? One year? Two? Another decade?
He...he had potentially spent, wasted half of his life being something he wasn't, being lost and adrift. He didn't even know how old he was.
The jerky tasted like ash in his mouth all at once. The emptiness in him demanded to be filled and the sudden burst of anger rushed in. Anger at Mundus, at Dante, at himself.
Someone was calling to him, soft and apologetic. Vergil lashed out. Then he let go. The haze cleared.
Sparda was looking at him with wide eyes. He looked...fine. Had Vergil hurt him again? Was he going to leave again?
"You didn't hurt me. Calm down." Sparda said but he still looked on edge and was stepping away. He was keeping his distance. Vergil wished he weren't. More distance was not what he needed. And Vergil had asked those loud. He ran his fingers through his hair. HIs exhaustion felt as though it had doubled.
"Are you alright?" Vergil nodded at that. He was calm but also empty again. That meant alright, right?
"Vergil," Sparda started, "let us converse properly like the adults we are."
He sat down, right across Vergil and leaned against the wall.
Conversation? There was much Vergil had to say.
I'm sorry, you're an idiot, give Oizys back, I want to protect you, you're a liar, please hold me—
They consumed Vergil's mind, each more incoherent than the last. Vergil only stared at those violet eyes with his mouth open. How stupid did he he look?
Sparda sighed at the silence. "Are you upset with me that I left that night?"
Vergil shook his head. Or maybe it was because Sparda had left, wasn't it? He didn't care that Sparda most likely slept with the farm owner but he had left Vergil to do his stupid blood seals and he hid the truth.
"Look." Sparda rubbed his face. "We can't travel if there is not mutual trust between us—"
"Do you trust me?" Vergil interrupted. He started fidgeting and Sparda saw it, Vergil knew that he did.
"If I didn't, I would not have you accompany me." Sparda reassured. "I do trust—"
"You lied to me." Vergil said quietly. He couldn't believe how much lighter he felt after saying that.
Sparda looked confused for a second. Then it dawned on him. "You followed me that evening." He said with narrowed eyes, affronted and judgmental. As expected, now he would have even less respect for Vergil.
"It's her." Sparda sighed. "You want her."
Vergil didn't bother correcting him. No, it's not her, it's because you're a self-destructive moron! You lied to me, you don't trust me.
But Sparda had already drawn his own conclusions. He was sighing tiredly, not too unlike when he would in reaction to Dante doing something foolish.
"You are addicted to Oizys. I know what addiction is like. When I first mingled with humans, I got temporarily addicted to some of human commodities. Your symptoms are similar to withdrawal. You like the thrill she gave you." What?
"Being away from Oizys is good for you and you will get better—"
"It's NOT withdrawal!" Vergil barked. "I am not addicted to anything! You lied to me!"
Vergil took a deep breath and continued in calmer tone. "You speak of mutual trust except there is no trust on your part."
"I knew you would act like this! That's why I kept her from you." Sparda said, voice weary. "And I do trust you. Believe me, I do. I wouldn't have you come with me. I sense your noble soul—"
Vergil couldn't help but snicker this time. Sardonic and bitter. If only Sparda knew...he might kill Vergil himself. Like Dante had tried to before. Like Dante would if they ever crossed paths again
Sparda glared. "Childish. Puerille. Bratty. And you wonder why I don't trust you with a devil arm."
Vergil had to snicker even louder. This man was unbelievable. You will trust me in your future with not just any devil arm but part of your own being. Oh the irony was almost too much.
Sparda fumed. "Oh is it funny to you? Almost dying? Being self-destructive?"
And Vergil's bitter amusement evaporated at that quickly, replaced by anger. Oh this hypocritical prick!
"So it's wrong to be self-destructive...unless you do it." Vergil said bitterly. Sparda stiffened. He blinked, finally at a loss for words. "I..." Sparda stammered. "I'm not self-destructive."
Vergil smirked. There they were again. The cracks.
Sparda drew a sharp breath in. "It's NOT the same and you know it!" He trembled. Vergil's smirk faded. Maybe he was going too far again.
Sparda closed his eyes. "I...do this for a purpose. To protect the people. To stop Nyx." Sparda said, his voice getting increasingly firmer.
Vergil raised an eyebrow. "Was I not doing the same?" Vergil understood it wasn't the same, what they did, neither in intent nor execution. But he wouldn't let this slide, not now, not when Sparda himself had given him an opening. "You are allowed to lie, you are allowed to be stupid and make mistakes but my lapse of judgment means I deserve to be treated like glass."
Sparda's jaw stiffened. "Don't you dare." He hissed. "We are not the same, what we did and you know it."
He fell silent after that. But soon he was on his feet and out of the cave. Vergil quietly followed him after a beat.
Sparda was preparing Luce. He...he wasn't leaving Vergil again, was he?
"What are you waiting for?" Sparda said, expecting him on the saddle. Vergil let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding.
Their silence grew impossibly heavier after that. Sparda had stopped trying to initiate any conversation.
Vergil...didn't regret any of what he had said. He couldn't. He only wished he had said more.
It felt like he could never get through to Sparda. To his own father. The one who used to be his confidant, whose supportive presence alone soothed Vergil.
But what did he expect? That Vergil had been seven and long gone.
It took him three days to attempt mediating again. The anxiety from his last episode lingered but Vergil wouldn't back down from that alone...it was the fear if he looked away, Sparda would vanish again. Vergil had barely slept in the past three days. He had kept on eye on Sparda at all times.
Now that it was clear he wasn't abandoning him, Vergil felt safe to try it again.
He sat upon a hill, far from their camp. He focused on his infernal energy, flowing in waves within his being. Clear and powerful. He stroked them inside, felt the energy vibrate and undulate in his soul.
He tried to summon the waves forth. He focused on circulation, trying to slide the energy to his fingertips. A practice he had seen Mundus do often, as a hobby.
What if he could make the energy take physical form?
But as soon as he tried to make the flow move past his fingers, it all dissipated.
Vergil clenched his hands. At least he didn't have flashbacks or panic attacks this time. Progress, right?
Vergil thought for a moment how it would feel to have these waves of infernal energy, this power, this part of his own being locked from him. Unable to reach, to have it circulate like this. The thought alone was anathema and Vergil wanted to flee from it, to refuse to even acknowledge it as a possibility...except it was.
He shuddered and focused at the task at hand. Vergil had to succeed and save Sparda, save Father. The infernal energy drizzled from his core to his fingertips in a sudden burst. Vergil tried to guide it, to take shape...but a familiar coming aura made Vergil drop the process.
Vergil quickly turned around, just in time to see Sparda appearing on the hill. He was panting, with Excelsius brandished in one hand, prepared for a fight.
Upon seeing Vergil, Sparda let out an audible sigh of relief. He staggered and Vergil was by his side immediately. "I'm fine." Sparda drawled, leaning on Exelcius. "I'm just...let's sit. I thought I felt something."
Vergil cursed himself. Sparda was still sensitive to demonic force and Vergil was practicing with his infernal energy so near him.
Sparda had sat on a tree bunk. He sighed again. "You know...you remind me of another hellion I once had."
"Do you have children?" Vergil asked in shock. How had he never known about it? Other siblings???
Sparda made a face of digust. "Of course I don't. I never had a permanent mate. And I have no interest in having children of my own." Sparda grimaced. "Besides, there are enough demons in this world." Vergil grimaced too. If only he knew..
"But I did take children under my wing. Two demons back in the day. Baul and Modeus they were called." Sparda reminisced with a distant smile. He regarded Vergil. "You remind of them. Especially Baul."
Vergil swallowed. Adoptive demon children. "Where are they now?" He asked casually. If they had been part of Sparda's rebellion, Vergil would have learnt about them. Which means they had sided with Mundus...which meant Sparda had to have faced them in battle.
Sparda sighed. "I don't know. Probably still in Underworld. They weren't exactly...approving of my rebellion."
Of course. Vergil tried to even his voice before asking the next question. "You didn't kill them then." Sparda had killed few of his enemies. Something that had always struck Vergil as odd. And foolish.
Sparda looked at Vergil in shock. "Why would I? I had told them to follow their own dreams and wishes and they did. I respected that." He looked back at the ground. "Besides, I can't force people to see my way, be they humans or demons. Nine hundred years of life have taught me better."
Respected their wishes. Would Sparda respect Vergil's choices? What he did, what he would in the future for power?
Would he forgive Vergil?
"This bring me to the present." Sparda said suddenly. He looked at Vergil with a serious face. "We will make a deal. I will carry and use Oizys for a week. You will handle Excelsius. If you behave and if you still want her after that, I will give Oizys to you."
Vergil stared for a moment before looking away. A deal? As if Vergil had been a child? Was this Sparda's way of respecting him?
"I know you're...strong. Extraordinarily so." Sparda said evenly. Vergil wondered if he knew. "And I know you are adamant. So I refuse to run in circles with you. I respect your choices. In my own terms. Deal or not?"
Vergil sighed loudly. He had to compromise. "Deal." He offered his hand to Sparda for shaking
Sparda looked at the hand questioningly. "What are you doing?"
Vergil dropped his hand quickly. "It's...a gesture in my...homeland. It signifies...two people reaching an agreement. We shake hands." Vergil explained tiredly.
Sparda seemed intrigued. "That's interesting. Alright, shake my hand." Sparda didn't wait and quickly took Vergil's right hand with his left to shake it.
Vergil could not help but smile.
They sat back at the camp, munching on jerkies. Vergil was sick of jerkies. He wished Sparda had made meals for their journey. Back when Vergil had been on the run as a child, between town to town, city to city, forest to forest, his menu would have more variety. Not that he would want to go back to that time. Never. Being lonely and unsafe made every meal taste bitter.
Sparda was done eating and now pulling a neatly folded fabric out of his bag. The tarpaulin. He laid the fabric on his lap, seemingly searching for a specific rune.
Once he found it, a spell was uttered and Oizys materialized on the fabric in Sparda's lap. Vergil only spared her a glance before looking away. Excelsius sat by his side. Vergil had a new sword, a good sword even if it was no a devil arm.
He could feel Sparda's eyes on him, measuring him. As if daring Vergil to argue again.
Vergil licked his lips. "Can I have that at least?" He pointed to the tarpaulin. It looked oddly beautiful in its intricate design and...it was Sparda's creation. So Vergil had to have it.
Sparda raised an eyebrow. "Sure, take it." He said. "But remember this is no treasure map. I didn't lie back then. This fabric doesn't have any secrets." Sparda said seriously as he passed the tarpaulin to Vergil. "I don't think I was even sober when I made this." He added unnecessarily.
Vergil rolled his eyes. He didn't need to know that about his father. "It's not that. I just want to have it." Vergil began folding the fabric. "The texture is quite...unique."
"It's unique but far from pleasant." Sparda winced with a pensive look. "After escaping from you, I used it as a secondary cloak to hide my aura."
He said it so casually, his tone nonchalant. The wording, however,...escaping from you.
He clenched the folded fabric hard. How could Vergil dispute that? He did hurt Sparda. He kept hurting Sparda. He didn't apologize.
Vergil considered Sparda. He was now combing his overly long hair, cleaning the dark locks, completely carefree. But Vergil didn't miss the way he swallowed and momentarily grimaced as the collar tightened. He did often when he thought Vergil was not looking.
Once Vergil had thought Sparda was dishonest. But no, he was open, always had been.
"Let's make another deal, Sparda." Sparda looked at him questioningly.
Vergil cleared his throat. "I will stop being...reckless and childish," it hurt to even say those, "and you will stop your lying and self-destructive habits."
Sparda tensed. "Vergil." He said evenly. "Don't—"
"It's about trust, you said so." Vergil interrupted. "We can't work together if there is this...rift between us. We will just end up arguing. About your lies, my attitude and it will never end."
Sparda looked away, eyes downcast. Vergil clenched his fists, a mix of emotions overwhelming him. Anger and disappointment at Sparda because certainly Vergil wasn't asking for much. Mutual trust was a given at this point and still Sparda couldn't stop his hypocrisy.
But soon the anger at Sparda transformed into anger at himself and then regret. Why did it matter if he trusted him? Vergil wasn't really his partner. He was just...keeping him alive and trust was not an entirely necessary component for that. He could keep an eye on Sparda either way. Vergil shouldn't have brought this up.
It felt like an eternity had passed until Sparda offered his right hand. It took a moment Vergil to understand. When he did, he took Sparda's hand with his own to shake it.
"A strange custom." Sparda muttered to himself. He didn't sound upset at least.
As they neared municipality, the weather improved and the demonic aura in the air began to heighten. But all they had encountered was one group of demons. No Keres. Vergil had gotten to test Excelsius for the first time. It was over before it even begun.
"Nyx is planning something." Sparda said one evening. "That woman has always been erratic and unpredictable. Now even more so."
Vergil shrugged. "We know her goal is the Qliphoth. She will need a bloodbath for that and Sotheby is giving her the perfect chance. I'd argue she will be entirely predictable this time. Once she shows up, we will finish her."
Vergil was quite confident in himself about it. Last time, he was half-dead and barely coherent and had not done half bad, all things considered.
Sparda didn't seem to optimistic. "Vergil, she could do the same trick she did back then." He touched his own throat.
Vergil wasn't worried. "Last time, she caught you off guard. Now you know her game. And I know of her tricks. She can't do the same again. We will kill her." Vergil looked him in the eyes. "Let her try her old tricks. This may be to our favor. "
Sparda furrowed his brow. "It's not just about her trap. It's about the people. She might target another population, just to trap me." Sparda grimaced. "We can't let them die. No one must get hurt...you understand that, Vergil, do you not?" Sparda regarded him with narrowed eyes
How Vergil hated that look, the uncertainty, almost bordering on...distrust.
It's not important. Vergil wanted to say. So what if she killed a bunch more? But he knew to better than to put it that way. Not with Sparda.
"I am saying," Vergil started carefully, "you can't save everyone. And what happened to that village? That wasn't your fault either. It's foolish to blame yourself."
Sparda's frown deepened. "You don't get it...I could have saved them but I was...helpless." Sparda looked away.
Helpless. Vergil knew a thing about that. He looked away, staring at the campfire. The flames danced, golden and restless...like the fire that destroyed his home and took Mother—
"There is one more thing." Vergil was snapped out of his thoughts. "I...I wasn't sure if I remembered it right." Sparda sounded grim. He looked even worse. "I did kill Nyx back then. Or at least I thought I did." His voice was dangerously close to shaking. "But then...she somehow respawned performed the ritual and did this to me." Sparda shut his eyes as he touched his throat.
"I think she has more than one life. Or possibly the demon lords she has latched onto herself sustained her after I did kill her." Sparda opened his eyes. He locked eyes with Vergil, now firm. "So we have a long and intense battle ahead. Which normally wouldn't be a problem for me but...you know. So I have to tear into the parasitic system as swiftly as possible, separate her from her core."
Vergil sat ramrod straight. Yamato. Sparda had to be talking about Yamato.
"What is your plan?" Vergil inquired evenly.
Sparda hesitated for a moment. Only a moment but Vergil saw it, looked for it, anticipated it. "I am working on it. I will tell you later." Sparda said and it was final.
Vergil tried so very hard to not feel betrayed.
Vergil picked up where head left the following day. If Sparda couldn't yet trust him, Vergil had to count on himself. So he spent the resting time covering himself in the tarpaulin entirely and focusing on his infernal energy. Vergil was making good progress. But what he summoned was still shapeless. Could Vergil maneuver it during battle? Would Nyx be phased by this?
Sparda wouldn't bother him during those periods. He spent the resting time cleaning and combing his long hair, reading and napping. Mostly napping.
He seemed well enough so Vergil didn't probe into it. After all. Sparda had held himself well during that earlier skirmish. Oizys might have yearned for Vergil but Sparda still handled her expertly.
Sparda and Vergil made a proper return to civilization thanks to a Keres attack a few days later. There was a swarm of them, about to attack a large party of travelers on the main road. They must have smelled the food.
Vergil was riding Luce that day. "Vergil, hurry. They're getting close." Sparda said. Vergil calculated the distance in his head. If he had Luce gallop right, they could arrive in the nick of time to save the travelers.
"Vergil!" Sparda sounded desperate now. Vergil huffed before clucking. Luce sped up, quickly galloping down the hill toward the target.
Sparda jumped off the ride before Luce had even stopped, Oizys brandished. Vergil followed suit after stopping Luce.
It was far from a challenge, it rarely had been with these demons. Vergil just had to watch for their rancid blood not to dirty him.
What was a challenge was keeping an eye on Sparda. It was unnecessary, Sparda had survived without Vergil and he had done well in the short fight the other day.
But Vergil still kept one eye on him while engaging with six Keres at the same time. These things were usually as stupid as they looked but Vergil spotted their little strategy this time. Mainly that they used each other as meatshield to get close to Vergil and splash their foul toxic blood on him. Vergil scoffed. Revolting little monsters. Even their intelligence was loathesome.
Sparda was doing well, engaging with five Keres from what he could see. Oizys vibrated in his grip, attuned to the demon holding him.
He saw a Ker climbing a dead tree, clearly planning to throw itself onto Sparda from the height.
Vergil sneered and immediately threw Excelsius at the Ker. The light thin sword acted as a projectile, impaling the Ker neatly, pinning it to the tree.
Three more Keres prowled toward a now weaponless Vergil. Which wouldn't be a problem as Vergil knew he could tear them apart with his bare hands, their toxins barely affecting him. But to do that in front of this large audience? The terrified travelers were watching on and Vergil didn't want to appear too abnormal before them.
He dodged the incoming Keres, holding back as much as he could. It took a while for his help to come. He felt her before he saw her. Oizys pierced through an approaching Ker. Vergil had already shifted and got a hold of Oizys swiftly. Oizys sang with happiness as Vergil held her and Vergil relished the devil arm power. She demanded blood and Vergil indulged her.
The battle was over soon after that. Once the thrill of it had faded, Vergil quickly looked for Sparda.
He stood there, near the travelers, one of them holding his arm. He was walking toward Vergil and Vergil strode in his direction. They met halfway. Vergil looked him over up close. He seemed intact and unharmed save for that sickly tired look in his eyes.
"Are you alright?" Sparda asked. He, too, was checking Vergil for injuries. Vergil nodded. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I had it under control." Sparda said. "But thank you anyways." He quickly added.
Sparda glanced at Oizys and Vergil offered her back after a beat. Sparda didn't take it. "It's been eight days, Vergil. You passed the test with flying colors." Sparda then walked toward the tree that had Excelsius lodged in it.
Eight days...Vergil had almost lost track of time.
Vergil watched Sparda go with mix of concern and irritation. Was he truly well? Vergil had thought their deal had meant something. Surely Sparda wouldn't hide it from Vergil if his body was failing him again. After days without...sustenance...
Someone coughed from behind and Vergil was broken out of his thoughts. A paunchy short man stood there. His expensive attire told Vergil he must be the leader.
Behind him stood a large crow of travelers. This party was sure vast now that Vergil was observing them. Most seemed rather well-off too. The paunchy man stepped closer and nodded his head in respect and greeting. "We are indebted to you, Sir..."
"Vergilio."
The merchant's jaw dropped in shock and the people behind him gasped loudly before breaing into gabbling among themselves. "T-the Vergilio?" Emmery sized up Vergil, check him all over, gazed at Oizys.
"By the gods..." he said in reverence. "I am Lord Emmery, Sir Vergilio. The leader of this group. It is an honor to meet you." He bowed so low, Vergil thought his forehead might get dirty on the ground.
Vergil looked behind at Sparda who was busy pulling out Excelsius out of the tree.
"And who might that be?" Emmery inquired.
Vergil struggled for words as he turned around. They had never decided on Sparda's pseudonym. "He is...my...valet..." what name had he given to that shopkeeper? "...Blake."
Emmery raised an eyebrow. "Blake. Strange name. Is it because of that striking black hair?"
"Yes." Vergil said stiffly. "He is my valet." He repeated unnecessarily. Then he realized how silly that lie sounds. Sparda didn't look like a valet. Not that Vergil had seen a valet in this era. But he doubted valets dressed as well as their masters or carried arms.
Emmery, however, seemed convinced or at least he stopped bothering Vergil with questions. Behind him, the travelers stared at Vergil with awe and respect. A few stared in Sparda's way as he was walking back toward them but they looked decidedly less favorable compared to the way Vergil was looked at.
How ironic that was.
Emmery nodded to Sparda respectfully nonetheless. Apparently bowing was reserved for the legendary demon hunters. The irony was never-ending.
"Lord Emmery. Pleasure to meet you." His tone was polite if a little dry.
Sparda bowed lightly anyways. "The pleasure is mine, my lord. I am Fionn. At your service."
Emmery narrowed his eyes. "Fionn. But I thought you're Blake." Sparda didn't even waver. "Fionn is the equivalent but I go by Blake too, Lord Emmery. They have the same meanings. It's due to my white...skin."
Vergil shut his eyes slowly. What a mess he had cooked up singlehandedly and Sparda fueled it.
Emmery only cleared his throat after a moment of staring. "Anyways, gentleman. Our party is headed for the Mithberg. It would be an honor to have you in our company." He offered cordially. "That is if you're headed there." Mithberg, the shire municipality.
"We are heading there as a matter of fact." Sparda replied with a smile. "Thank you for this gracious offer—"
"But we have to decline it." Vergil interrupted coldly. "We are in a rush. Your large party only slows us down." That and Vergil didn't want to be near these people or any people right now.
To Vergil's chagrin, his repellent glare didn't work right away. Emmery kept blabbering. "Oh I do insist, Sir Vergilio. The town is barely a few hours away." The man said cheerfully. "Even your...valet agrees." He added less cheerfully.
If Sparda minded the 'valet' thing, he didn't show a sign. Instead he kept up his friendly smile and attitude. "You are most courteous, Lord Emmery. Perhaps you could do even more for us. Or for my Lord Vergilio specifically. My dearest lord lost his ride..."
Sparda got Vergil his own ride. A large black horse, almost the same size as Luce, probably the same breed or at least close. Vergil had dropped arguing back against joining these people when he was given the horse. However, he soon began missing Luce. The new mare didn't seem too fond of Vergil.
Sparda was riding ahead, standing out amongst the crowd on Luce. He was conversing with a young man riding next to him. Which meant Vergil was stuck with Emmery and his nonstop blabbering. Vergil was certain Emmery wanted to hire him. He had given him his fine horse with no charge and he had guaranteed he would get him and Sparda the finest lodging in the city. Vergil might have saved his life but he could see such people wouldn't be generous even in their gratitude. So Vergil was as cold and mean as possible despite Emmery consistently not getting the cue.
Eventually, they arrived at. Passing through the gates alone would have taken much time if Emmery hadn't used his influence and whatever to get them through. At least he was good for something.
The city buzzed with life, people of all stations and bearing were present and happy, blissfully ignorant of how they were preparing a feast for a vicious demoness.
Barely into the city, they passed a gloomy heavily-guarded building. The prison probably. It wouldn't have been noteworthy if Vergil hadn't gotten a glimpse at hanging corpses. And a cage of tightly-chained-together prisoners, kept at the yard and separate from others.
"Cultists." Emmery explained. "There have been more and more of them ever since the calamity fell. Nearly a year now. How could some people worship demons after what happened?" He shuddered. "Viscount Dunstan has been most helpful in getting rid of this bunch. He saved us from the calamity and now he saves from the cults."
Vergil couldn't help but scoff. "I've heard the calamity is alive. Dunstan is useless."
Emmery looked scandalized. "Do not say that, Lord Vergilio. Viscount Dunstan is a man of virtue and power and it is his men, his barons and squires that take care of these cultists. Men like you who shield the people from these hellspawns."
Vergil wanted to throttle him for even implying he was like Dunstan's men. Those are rapists and monsters you put on pedestal.
Emmery cleared his throat at Vergil's glare. "I'm not into hero worship, Sir Vergilio. But some people are rather...sensitive about him. Don't let anyone else hear you badmouth him. Just a friendly advice."
Despite this, Emmery stopped his incessant talks and asking for Vergil to join his party. Even badmouthing Dunstan was enough to make Vergil controversial and no longer desirable to employ.
Finally. Alone in their room. Which, to Emmery's credit, was quite comfortable and spacious. He hadn't lied about that.
Vergil threw Oizys on the floor and immediately fell on the soft bed. Days of sleeping on the ground had made him miss finer things in life.
Sparda sat on the edge of his own bed, regarding Vergil quietly. Vergil stared back. Neither said anything for a while.
"Really?" Sparda started incredulously. What was his problem? "I am your valet? Me?! And Blake? What kind of name is that?" So this was his problem. Vergil only shrugged. "Sir Vergilio is the one everyone loves and he could use a valet or anything of the kind. Does that hurt your ego?"
Sparda rolled his eyes. "My ego is dead, Vergil." He said calmly. "You should just work on your lying skills. I don't pass for your valet."
Vergil froze. His ego was dead...you need neither ego nor memories. The heart is a tumour of weakness.
Vergil looked away at the ceiling, clenching his fists. Memories of Mundus came with no panic this time but instead with...concern How could Sparda say that? After their deal?
"Remember this. I am Fionn, your partner. Alright?"
Vergil only nodded absently. He could hear Sparda walking around the room but he didn't bother looking. What mattered was he didn't realize Vergil's discomfort.
Vergil breathed, he imagined Father's voice in his head. Do not be afraid, Vergil. It wasn't much...but it worked. Father worked. It helped that Sparda's aura was present and was the exact as Father's...it was Father's, he was his father no matter how annoying and foolish—
"You must have really liked Emmery. You rode with him the whole way." Sparda said suddenly.
Vergil swallowed the rest of his discomfort. He cleared his throat, making sure he would sound firm and normal before responding. "Annoying, loud and piggy." Generous for sure but Vergil didn't like talkative people nonetheless. "And I want Luce back, do you hear me? Ombra doesn't like me. As if riding with Emmery wasn't bad enough."
Sparda chuckled. "Ombra. Good name. Goes well with Luce, no?" Vergil winced. It had felt natural, to call the horse that.
"And Lord Emmery wasn't that bad. He was nice to us and quite generous."
Vergil put his hands under his head, eyes glued to the ceiling. "We saved his life. And he was trying to recruit us to protect his measly party."
"Well, is that so bad? You forget he is an ordinary weak person, he's just trying to survive in this world. And his employees quite like him. He can't be that bad." A pause there before he continued in a quieter voice.
"Besides, there are many many people out there who not only don't thank you for saving them but also take from you. Just...take and take and take..." His tone was cold and monotone.
Vergil set his eyes on Sparda. He was leaning against the wall, hands clasped in front of him as he stared at them. Vergil couldn't see his face.
What should he say now? Should he probe for more? Vergil knew or at least had ideas of what Sparda talked about but...he didn't want to hear about it. Not really. He couldn't even bear to think about his own trauma on best of days.
"Moving on." Sparda said eventually. "Go have fun outside. When an Earl throws a banquet, the entire shire celebrates. Especially the municipality." He was walking toward the door. "Don't wait for me, Vergil. I will spend the night elsewhere."
Sparda would go to that man. Emmery's employee. Vergil had seen cozying up together on the way.
"You don't have to sleep with him." Vergil blurted out.
Sparda turned to him, a quizzical look on his face. "I want to sleep with James, Vergil. He is a handsome, polite gentleman." Sparda said. "Besides, he looks sturdy and strong. He would provide plenty of energy. I have gone without for too long." Sparda's tone was nonchalant, his smile lazy. Was he being sincere and true? He was almost trembling not two minutes ago.
Vergil pushed the annoyance and cleared his throat. Why was it so hard to communicate with his own father?
"What I meant is you shouldn't have to sleep with him, or anyone else for your survival. You don't have to do any of this."
Sparda narrowed his eyes. "I enjoy sex, Vergil. Many people do. There is no shame in that." He ran his fingers through his dark hair. "I have always been like this. I like it when I get such attention." He shrugged.
Vergil grimaced. The evening conversation still haunted them both, Vergil could see that. Sparda must have thought him a prude at best.
"You don't need to sleep with people you don't know for your survival." He explained carefully.
"It's not just for survival, Vergil. I enjoy it, I just said so. I have always been like this. Maybe much more often now than before but the point remains." Sparda said sharply, hands crossed on his chest. The ticking of his fingers, the barely discernable fidgeting didn't escape Vergil's eyes.
He had to be lying...or maybe he just doesn't want to talk about this. Maybe—
"Besides, this is a quick and efficient method of gaining energy. There is no better alternative. There is only so much food I can scarf down before bursting. Then you would have to clean me up." Sparda chuckled at his own joke.
Vergil so badly wanted to shake him. This distance between them...it was unbearable.
And it would only grow more once Vergil said what he wanted to. But he had to.
"There is another way." Vergil started. Sparda was listening. "Devouring humans."
Sparda tensed at that, now standing ramrod straight. "What?" He asked in disbelief.
"Eat humans like you once used to. Eat the outlaws. The murderers, the rapists. The ones who deserve to die." Vergil stopped at the growing outrage on Sparda's features.
His eyes had narrowed, teeth bared. "No. Never suggest that to me again." He snapped, violet eyes burning.
"Why? Isn't that more efficient way of getting energy?" Vergil probed further, now sitting up on the bed.
"YES, it is! But I will not do it. Do not speak of this again." Sparda snapped loudly. He was panting in anger and intensity. He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. "I love fucking and getting fucked. I like eating human cuisines. I don't like eating humans. Simple as that." Sparda said firmly. "Do you want me to stop doing what I enjoy and force myself to do what I hate? I see no equity in that, Vergil."
Vergil looked away. He didn't agree. He didn't care about Sparda's morals. What were they compared to his well-being? My ego is dead. Vergil shut his eyes.
"You think about that, Vergil." Sparda said coldly before leaving.
Vergil was all alone with his thoughts now. He thought about an increasingly debilitating father. He thought of Sparda broken and tortured. He thought of him using the blood and life he couldn't spare to protect his humanity. The way he couldn't bear to be touched in certain ways but was fine with others...
Humanity. His heart. What good were they when they kept hurting him?
Vergil growled in anger in the empty room. He fumed for hours after that, hands clenched. He wanted...he wanted to hit something. Hit Sparda. Slap him again.
Tie him up and put him in a cage so he would never hurt himself anymore. His ego was dead, wasn't it. Sparda didn't need humanity, the tumor that was his wretched kindly hear that was killing and tormenting him—
Vergil crawled toward the bucket to throw up. Oizys was pulsing on the floor, calling to him but Vergil ignored her. The bile burnt his throat. But the disgust at himself burnt worse.
No, he wouldn't be like that. Not like him. He wasn't like Mundus.
Vergil hauled himself up to shaky feet. He washed his face with the water at the room. He looked at himself in the mirror.
He looked...tired. But at least he no longer looked like he was about to die. His eyes no longer sunken in, his complexion no longer pallid. Vergil ran around through his blond hair. The color seemed faded. He should...he should dye it again.
It was loud outside, loud and crowded as the people convened for the evening activities. Maybe Vergil could find something to eat out there.
He need to be full in order to practice his infernal energy. That would ground his mind.
When Vergil woke up , he was still alone.
He had slept without a nightmare shockingly enough. He had exhausted himself practicing his new technique. He might have Oizys back now but Sparda had been right, she was not the perfect blade. Now...Vergil felt he was getting somewhere. Now he had a plan about how to shape it. But he needed more time. Better focusing. More training.
He needed to find Sparda. Vergil washed up, had breakfast and was ready to find his father.
It proved to be quite easy as expected. Sparda's aura shone like a beacon in the crowded city. He hadn't strayed far. Which was good because Vergil was on foot.
He found him in a diner, sitting with a familiar man—James. They were chattering happily.
Vergil approached them, uncaring of the eyes staring at him. James tensed upon spotting him. He got to his feet and bowed. "S-sir Vergilio." Handsome but he looked so small and awkward. He didn't look sturdy and strong to Vergil one bit.
Vergil only nodded at him before meeting Sparda's mild stare. At least those violet eyes weren't burning anymore. He was not upset.
"Please seat with us." James sputtered before ordering an extra chair for Vergil. He wanted to decline so much but he also wanted to be near Sparda. He didn't want to have to drag him out of here.
And so Vergil sat at their table, endured James's babbling and tried to be as polite as he could humanely manage to be. Sparda only sipped his tea and offered remarks here and there.
It wasn't...half as excruciating as expected. James talked about himself, his scholarly work, Lord Emmery and of course the one-sided conversation steered toward the hot topics.
"Are you familiar with Viscount Dunstan, Sir Vergilio? You must be, valiant and skilled as you are. Only Viscount Dunstan's men can save us from demons."
Vergil tried so hard to not sneer. He might not have seen any demon hunter yet but there had to be others before and independent of Dunstan. James was just an idiot.
Sparda had stiffened at little besides him. Not that James noticed but Vergil did. He had been looking for it. "I am not affiliated with Viscount Dunstan in any way, shape or form." Vergil said coldly.
James didn't shut up. "Well you should meet him! He will appreciate having more fighters in his crusade." James sighed. "He has been working hard to protect the shire, going even beyond his fief. He will not even be here for the banquet as he is committed to keeping us safe."
James locked eyes with Vergil. "It's your duty, good sir to protect your shire." Like I hell it is.
"Do you not agree, Fionn?" James said with a loving smile as he stared at Sparda with adoration in his eyes. He slid a hand over to Sparda, caressing his shoulder.
Sparda only hummed in agreement and leaned into the touch...until James buried his fingers in his hair, gripping his neck gently...
Sparda stood up so suddenly, his chair toppled. His eyes were widened in horror, staring at nothing. The chattered died down in the diner, all eyes on Sparda.
"Fionn? Are you alright?" James asked in confusion. "I—I'm fine." Sparda uttered. "I just need fresh air." Vergil stood up to follow him. James took Sparda's arm. "When will I see you again?" James asked almost desperately.
"I don't know." Sparda muttered. James tugged at his arm. "Have I done something wrong?" He asked apologetically.
Sparda stopped and took a deep breath. He turned to James. "No, you've been nothing but wonderful to me." He pecked him in the lips and Vergil looked away.
He waited outside the diner till Sparda exited. Vergil followed behind him silently.
Sparda made no effort to hide himself or speed up as Vergil caught up to him shortly.
"He's a good man. Don't get wrong ideas, Vergil." He said and Vergil raised eyebrow. "It's none of my business."
Sparda only blinked and nodded. He didn't look Vergil in the eyes. Not out of anger, he wasn't upset with Vergil and how comforting that was but instead he acted almost ashamed. Of himself. Probably due to his earlier outburst. It's not your fault, Vergil wanted to say. Don't feel bad. Vergil wanted to hold him.
They kept walking through the city in silence. It didn't feel too heavy or awkward, all things considered.
"The official banquet is in a few nights." Sparda said out of the blue. "Dunstan not being around is good news. No one else truly knows me around here. We can get close to the Earl's residence even."
Vergil only nodded. Dunstan. Dunstan. He hadn't even met the man and he felt as though he had had enough of him to last a lifetime.
He considered Sparda, his awkward gait, his movements...his neck.
How could Vergil make him feel better?
"I'm going for a ride. This city has been too loud." Vergil said coolly. "Would you like to come with me?" He said after a beat, a little awkwardly.
Sparda stood unblinking, completely dumbfounded. Then he smiled and nodded. "Let's go get Luce and Ombra."