Chapter Four: Deviation

Notes: I continue to be humbled by your support and kindness! The comments I continue to receive and the warm reception that the community has given me make me feel warm and fuzzy inside! A special shout out to SkylarMorgan1899 on Tumblr for keeping me going through a long night of writing by giving me someone who I know is always happy when I make something new. You're the best and this chapter is for you! Looking at you too, Mallovarwen! You guys rock!

Chapter Four: Deviation

The silence that lingered in the space between them held a physical presence. In a way, it was like hitting a reset switch on their entire interaction, stopping everyone dead in their tracks. Vergil and Magnolia raged a silent but passive battle, some conflict unknown to Nero holding their collective silent attention. As the young devil hunter straightened out his coat and realigned his stance, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on here. What had gone on here in the past to lead to this moment? Vergil shifted his sheathed blade into his off-hand and craned his head slightly to the left, beckoning the answer to an unasked question. Magnolia sighed as her hands flopped uselessly to her sides and Nero could tell at that moment that the woman standing before them meant no further harm.

“... Soul Scrying is a bit closer to Necromancy than I tend to lean and you know that.” She said tiredly, her voice almost a whisper. Or perhaps she was actually whispering. Nero did possess better hearing than the average person, after all. It was entirely possible.

Vergil took a step forward, seemingly more relaxed now that she wasn’t doing whatever she had done mere moments ago. Things seemed to escalate wildly and unpredictably into left field with the eldest Son of Sparda in play, and he was becoming more and more aware of this. The woman before him showed her age at that moment, a lifetime of unsaid worries displaying in her body language. She and Vergil both shared a predilection for aging extraordinarily well, but in the simple act of shifting her center of balance and slumping more to one side against the railing of her front steps, she aged a decade in an instant. Vergil approached the bottom of the steps, resting his hand on the first segment of the wrought iron railing. He then looked up at her, the state of calm calculation that was often so closely associated with him fully returning for the first time since it had abandoned him in the underworld with Dante earlier that day.

“If I wanted a Necromancer, I wouldn’t have come here,” Vergil stated in a very matter of fact way, belying deeper emotions,” Although I do not know the extent of my request at this moment, I can’t imagine that it extends past your limitations.”

“And those limitations are there for a reason,” She replied as she folded her arms across her chest. Nero caught a glimpse of what seemed to be tattooed skin ascending her arms as her baggy sleeves exposed a small portion of lower arms. “It isn’t often that someone goes looking into the beyond without plans to take something from it.”

Nero heard her words, but he was too focused on the markings on her arms. There seemed to be symbols of some sort mixed in between what seemed to be a crescent moon and an eye on each arm respectively. Although distinctly different from V’s tattoos, Nero couldn’t help but wonder if they functioned in a similar way. Then again, he had no idea how the mysterious devil summoner’s powers worked for that matter, so he couldn’t exactly compare them beyond noting the obvious fact that they were both attached to the bodies of beings with questionable abilities. And what was this talk of Necromancy and Alchemy? Wasn’t that what that idiot Agnus had been up to back at the Order of the Sword?

“I am more than aware of the fact that someone cannot bring something back that is fully claimed by powers outside of our control,” Vergil stated almost solemnly,” But I am also aware that your ancestors have had dealings with souls that span every possible segment of reality. And that they kept meticulous records.”

Magnolia scoffed at the statement, seemingly somewhat amused. “Yes, well they took a much more liberal approach to the Trinity of Realities than I do. And that time has long since passed. But on that note,” she glanced from side to side as if to check for onlookers,” … This is a conversation better had inside over a cup of tea, don’t you think?”

Vergil paused for a moment before giving a single nod and starting up the steps. Nero started after him, realizing after a moment that the older man wasn’t going to politely ask him to come along. He seemed to expect him to be proactive and independent, even when he hadn’t the slightest clue what on earth he was getting himself into. But regardless, he hurriedly followed them through the threshold of the front door, catching up just as Vergil stepped through the doorway. This seemed to be a conversation they needed to have in private. Apparently, the entire neighborhood knowing what they were here for wasn’t something anyone was comfortable factoring into their plans. Understandable.

The just shy of middle-aged women showed them to their seats in the living room and then stepped out of the room into the kitchen. The narrow profile of the townhome made for a living space that wasn’t terribly over-furnished as it would make things claustrophobic, so the room consisted of two contemporary, almost mid-century modern chairs that were positioned with their backs to an open bay window. They faced the matching love seat across the room from them, a circular coffee table covered in pleasant-smelling herbs and candles spanning the space between them while a small arm table sat between the chairs covered in a few well-worn books. An open birdcage sat near the corner of the room between a large potted fern and the fireplace that didn’t seem to work since it was bricked up and a piece of framed minimalist art was leaned against it. All in all, it was a comfortable space.

Or at least it would have been if it didn’t force Nero and Vergil to sit so near to one another.

The second their bodies had made contact with the plush upholstering of the couch, both of them had migrated as far in either direction as they possibly could. Vergil opted to watch the hallway between the kitchen and the front door while Nero idly turned a sizable leaf over in his hand, taking care not to break it off of its host plant. Thankfully, Magnolia returned a moment later with a tray in hand. She sat it down amidst the plants and candles on the coffee table, removing the lid of the silver tray to display several croissants, various preserves, butter, teacups, and sugar cubes along with a small metal container that presumably contained some sort of dairy product. Everything seemed fresh, as though it had been made from scratch just moments ago. The mixture of smells was intoxicating.

“You're both lucky,” She let slip a small, genuine smile,” You caught me just after I made these. I like to treat myself in the evenings. Help yourself.”

Nero didn’t hesitate to go for one of the croissants. He wasn’t a tea person himself, but he imagined Kyrie would love this if she’d be present. Maybe he could bring her by sometime… “Thank you.”

Magnolia laughed as Nero completely skipped any toppings and helped himself to the buttery roll, nearly eating it in one large bite. “So, if I bake you more of these, can we call the incident with the stairs even, then?” She asked playfully. Nero didn’t hesitate to nod in agreement. He was keen on any agreement that got him quicker access to these delectable butter coated rolls. What the hell did she put in these? Liquid addiction?

Vergil watched their interaction absent-mindedly from over the cup of tea that he was in the process of fixing. Part of him couldn’t help but be slightly entertained by the younger man’s behavior when placated with treats. He was certainly more polite towards Magnolia than he was towards him, although that could have just been because he now knew she was powerful enough to throw him down a flight of stairs without even touching him. Still, their interaction affected him in a way that he could not place. Or maybe he had repressed it. Perhaps it reminded him of some long lost memory from a lifetime ago.

“Your bloodline traces itself back to Vigrid, does it not?” Vergil inquired, seemingly trying to remember something that he had forgotten.

Magnolia nodded. “Better than Noatun. Neither place is very ideal, but I’d like to stay as far from Fimbulventr as possible. Thankfully, I haven’t had reason to go to either place in my lifetime,” She turned to Nero, taking a sip of her tea,” Where are you from, then? I don’t get the impression you were reared in Capulet. Count yourself lucky!”

Nero shrugged nonchalantly and took a brief respite from suffocating himself with pastries to answer.” Fortuna Island.”

Both Vergil and Magnolia stared at him in blank, abject horror as if he had just cursed them and everything they stood for. Magnolia shot Vergil a glare and smacked him with her ceramic teaspoon, shaking her head in disappointment. “Don’t look so surprised! You’re supposed to be his father, after all! What on earth possessed you to raise him on that godforsaken island?!”

Vergil sat the now empty teacup down and sighed uncomfortably. “... I didn’t… If I had known Nero was there in the first place, I would have never-”

Seemingly mid-sentence, Vergil suddenly remembered that he was sitting next to Nero and he stopped, turning to make eye contact with him. There was something more to the look in his eyes that the younger man couldn’t quite place, but it held his attention regardless. “... I would have never left him there.”

Nero felt himself swallow hard in discomfort. Now he could place the look in his father’s eyes. It was regret. Sorrow even. And it wasn’t an emotion that he would have ever associated with his Vergil until this exact moment. Until the moment he had seen him express it, regardless of how subtle. Nero wound his fingers together and looked back down towards the tray of food on the table. He suddenly felt an intense, all-consuming desire to look anywhere but at the eldest Son of Sparda.

Vergil looked at him quietly for a moment before releasing a silent breath and turning back to Magnolia. The look of pain-filled comprehension in her face spoke volumes. “... What are you hoping to achieve by asking me to look into this for you, Vergil? I can’t change the past. You know that.”

He leaned across the space between them, illustrating his point a bit further by getting closer to her. “I remember reading something about the properties of some arcane timepiece used by your ancestors to offset time. It delayed the process of dying, even after death. You should know better than most that death does not make a soul irretrievable. It just makes it slightly more… difficult.”

Magnolia sat back as if to process Vergil’s words. She nodded to herself before taking a final sip of her tea and setting the cup back on her tray. Nero remained quiet, listening in as he idly consumed yet another croissant. He still hadn’t looked in their direction, however. She sighed and quietly laughed to herself at the preposterous situation she had somehow gotten herself into. “Admittedly, a soul hasn’t been fully processed until it has been claimed by an afterlife. Purgatorio isn’t the best at its job on a good day, and if this is one of your relatives, I can only guess they might... hit a hiccup processing the paperwork, so to speak. I doubt they’d notice if someone slipped out of the waiting room.”

Nero scoffed at the comment, unsure of why the mental image of being stuck in a waiting room in between heaven and hell was so amusing to him. Maybe it was how clinical and utterly boring it seemed. After all, he highly doubted that they had any magazines down there to read or anything. Or up there? Where the hell was Purgatorio in relation to the human realm? Could they go there? What even was it? “So you’re saying that we can, what, just call the underworld or whatever and just ask for someone’s soul? Is that how you got out of there?”

Vergil shook his head, not at all willing or ready to regale his son -or anyone for that matter- with exciting tales from that horrific chapter of his life. Magnolia stood up and gestured for the pair to follow her upstairs. They did as she requested, following her up two stories of dark stairs into the attic. On one of the last steps, Nero tripped, nearly falling backward down the stairs. Before he could catch himself, an unseen force braced him, pushing him forward where Vergil grabbed him by the front of his coat. The older devil slayer shook his head slightly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were magnetically attracted to stairs, child.”

Nero pulled free, trying, and more or less succeeding in suppressing the chuckle he almost let loose. “You know what- it’s not funny!”

Vergil had turned away from him and the younger man could almost swear he had just seen Vergil snicker. No, that couldn’t be correct. Vergil didn’t have a sense of humor… did he? It was an almost unfathomably creepy prospect to the younger devil hunter, so he pushed it aside and decided to return to the matter at hand. He followed them up into the attic as a light flickered on and he was greeted to the sight of what seemed to be a workshop of some sort. Several windows that were inlaid into the back of the roof let in cool air and plants, bottles, beakers, Bunson burners, and books littered the space in neat piles. The plants were in small pots, some suspended on racks, and some hanging from the ceiling. Nero wandered aimlessly through the surprisingly spacious room, taking in the sights. “So um, did you catch me on the stairs just now? And what do ya do for a living, again?”

The middle-aged woman was in the process of climbing down from a step ladder with a large book in tow. She pushed aside several pieces of lab equipment and brushed the table clean before sitting the book down and opening it. She flipped through several pages, speed reading as she searched. “I’m an Apothecary. I sell herbal remedies for things like the common cold and stomach pain, mostly in the form of teas and water-soluble powders. And I see you noticed that I did that. I’m surprised. You couldn’t have seen me do that.”

Nero approached to get a better look at the book. “Yea, well I could feel it. Reminded me of when I fell down the stairs before, except that was a push instead of a pull.”

Magnolia nodded, impressed. “You catch on quicker than your father. Maybe you won’t make a mess of things quite as often, either. Shouldn’t be too hard, all things considered.”

Vergil shot her an unappreciative glance from across the room. He was examining another bookcase on the far side of the room, but unlike her, he didn’t require the step ladder to do so. Magnolia gestured towards the book in his hand. “I think it’s that one. That’s the one I’m searching for, right there. Bring it. Quickly!”

In the blink of an eye, Vergil had placed the book down on top of the already open book on the table. Magnolia barely paid his rapid movement any mind, but the same could not be said for Nero. Although he didn’t say anything, he still found himself wondering why Vergil had felt the need to use his teleporting ability to do that. Showoff.

After flipping through several pages of the book, she pointed towards one of the symbols. “This one. This is the one I need. I’ll ask that you stand back a ways, please. Thank you.”

With that, she proceeded to pick a few leaves off of several of the plants in the room. She pointed towards a few of the plants nearest to Vergil and Nero, instructing them as to how many leaves she needed and how best to handle the plants so as to not harm them or themselves. After gathering everything, she placed everything into a bowl and returned to the book, preparing the next step. She seemed to read several paragraphs before stopping for a moment to pour a clear liquid into the bowl and stir. “Terribly sorry, but which one of you is closest to the person we’re looking for? Biologically, that is.”

Nero and Vergil drew a blank, glancing at one another before turning back towards her. Nero shrugged dubiously. “Actually, I kinda think we’re about even there.”

A look of confusion crossed Magnolia’s face before she stopped and turned to stare at Vergil, disbelief clouding her large grey eyes. She then turned to Nero, noting the discomfort they seemed to both share. The brown-haired woman then shook her head, returning to the bowl. “... Vergil, what… what happened to this child?” Her voice was a pained whisper, her eyes betraying the worry she seemed to be trying to conceal.

Vergil shifted uncomfortably in place before sighing. Nero looked up at him tentatively. He needed this clarified as well. It had never been made clear how V had met his untimely end. Vergil seemed almost distant when he spoke as if the matter weighed heavily on him and he did not wish to speak of it. Now that the youngest descendent of Sparda thought about it, that was probably the case. Although he didn’t understand anything about their relationship (or if they even had one) he knew enough to be able to tell that this was a sensitive topic that Vergil seemed to want to avoid at all costs.

“... I split my soul into two parts and stored one half within him. During the remerging process he…” Vergil trailed off for a moment before letting out a displeased sigh,”... He turned to dust and was dissolved in the blast... unfortunately, he was completely destroyed.”

At that comment, Nero turned away from Vergil and folded his arms, peering out of the window. Somehow he had known that his father had been the source of what had been killing V. He could just feel it. After all, aside from being kinda frail, he had been fine for most of the time that he’d known him until suddenly, everything went downhill. But now he had conclusive proof and he wasn’t sure what he felt about it. It was too soon to come to conclusions, but he knew he wasn’t happy about it. But what had Vergil ever done that he was okay with? Helping destroy the Qliphoth? He had caused that, but at least he had fixed that in the end. His feelings towards the older man were complicated, to say the least, and at this moment in time, he didn’t really know how to feel about anything.

Magnolia stopped stirring and sat the bowl down in front of them both, gesturing towards the now dark green slurry. “Better to be safe than sorry then. I need a bit of blood from you both. I have to be sure. There is a knife behind you if you need it. I don’t know how clean it is since I use it for the plants, but still. It’s something.”

Before Nero could turn to look at the blade, Vergil had unsheathed Yamato and removed the glove on his off-hand. He then used the razor-sharp blade to slice open his palm, dripping a steady stream of blood into the mixture. Magnolia and Nero both stared at him, slightly concerned that he had gone mad. “I said a few drops, Vergil. Did I not say a few drops? I was very clear.”

She looked to Nero for a second opinion and he nodded, still slightly taken aback by his father’s lack of hesitation. Vergil gestured towards Nero. “Hold out your hand.”

Nero raised an eyebrow. “Look, you’ve already cut my ar-”

Vergil gave him a look that could cut stone, instantly silencing him. Nero smirked to himself. Good to know that he didn’t want her to know that. He would save that as a bargaining chip for later. He then removed the glove on his right hand and held up his arm. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been cut by Yamato’s blade. “Look, just don’t hack my hand off or I’m going to beat your crazy old ass to-”

Before he could finish his threat, Vergil was finished. A dull throb traveled up his arm as blood trickled down from his hand and onto his fingertips. Nero positioned his hand over the bowl and gave his palm a tight squeeze before he began to heal. Within seconds the wound had reclosed and magnolia had resumed stirring. She set the bowl down and reached over, yanking a hair from each of them in tandem. Nero rubbed his head in discomfort while Vergil shot her a look of absolute disdain. Magnolia snickered to herself. “Oh, come of it then! I know how touchy you are about your hair, so I wasn’t going to ask now, was I?!”

Vergil folded his arms, clearly done with her shit. “Is it ready or not, Magnolia?”

Magnolia added the hairs and gave the bowl a quick stir. Within seconds, the mixture glowed a vibrant red before turning black. Then it turned bright purple, a faint pulse flowing through the liquid. The woman poured the mixture into an hourglass-shaped vessel and turned it upside down. The once thick liquid seemed to come to a stand still, dripping slowly into the bottom compartment of the glass hourglass. With that, she stood back and she nodded, a pleased look on her face. Nero looked between her, Vergil, and the glass, his interest peaked.

“Good, we’ve done it!” She exclaimed almost gleefully. The two men looked at her blankly. More explanation was in order.

“How does it work,” Nero asked passively, reaching towards the glass container. Magnolia smacked his hand to reprimand him, causing him to curse under his breath and retract his hand. No touching. Duly noted.

“Magnolia...” Vergil was clearly running out of patience Either that, or the suspense was getting to him.

“How do I put this in a way that you lot will understand,” She said as she glanced between them and the glass. She snapped her fingers, a metaphorical lightbulb coming on in her head,” This hourglass works as a sort anchor. I was able to verify the integrity of the soul we were searching for. We have until this hourglass runs out to finish preparations. If we’re not ready by then, that’s it. I’d give us 72 hours, tops.”

Vergil nodded, seemingly absorbing the urgency of the task ahead of them. “What do you require then?”

She gestured towards the book, Vergil seemed to be able to read the pages, but they were written in a strange symbolic script that Nero couldn’t decipher. Magnolia flipped the page and pointed to one of the diagrams. “I’m going to need quite a bit more blood, a few more hairs from you for starters,” She gestured towards Vergil and he glared in distaste,” And I need an item close to the person who’s soul you are trying to invoke. That part is essential. This will not work without it. I cannot stress that fact enough. I trust you have something?”

Vergil shook his head and Magnolia groaned. Nero searched the inner compartments of his mind palace, trying to think of something. And then it hit him like a brick wall. “... I still have V’s book, Vergil.”

For one single solitary second, Vergil actually looked pleased. It was a fleeting thing that you’d miss if you blinked, but Nero caught it nonetheless. He turned to his son and nodded, internally glad that this was not something he needed to go mad trying to figure out. “Excellent. Where is it, then?”

Nero shifted uncomfortably. See, that was the catch, wasn’t it? “It’s at my place...In Fortuna.”

The eldest Son of Sparda Nodded, considering Nero’s statement. “It doesn’t take that long by car. The ferry ride is the issue.” Nero stated simply.

Vergil looked at Nero as though he had just told a joke. He tilted his head to the side and leaned in to look at his son closer. At that moment, he really took in their family resemblance. It was quite stark, wasn’t it? “We don’t need a ferry, child. Have you forgotten that we have wings?”

Nero smirked in remembrance. How had he forgotten that? He didn’t even need to be triggered to use his! Magnolia stepped forward and gestured towards the hourglass. “Well, however, you're getting there, be back here within 48 hours. I need that long to prepare everything. Hurry along, now. Go!”

Vergil begrudgingly nodded and headed towards the stairs with Nero in tow. They made their way down the stairs and out of the front door, taking the stairs two at a time. As they hurried along the dark street, the van came flying down the street, nearly crushing them both. Vergil briefly considered stabbing Nico but decided against it. She hadn’t done anything especially egregious to him quite yet. But she was indeed pushing it.

As the pare boarded the van, Nico turned to them looking for an update. “I was starting to think that she’d killed you both in there! What the hell took so long?!”

Nero flopped down in the passenger seat as Vergil headed towards the back of the van. After the ride here had nearly cost him his life, he wasn’t keen to ride in the front again. “Nico, I’m gonna have to explain all this another time. Right now, we’ve got to head back to the office and get Dante. He’s going to lose his shit when we tell him what we just did. But we gotta hurry.”

She nodded and floored the gas, sending the vehicle rocketing forward towards the intersection. “You don’t have to tell me twice!”

The van shot up the street at top speed, headed in the direction of Dante’s place. There was absolutely no time to lose. They couldn’t screw this up. There was too much at stake.

Thanks so much for reading this everyone! Again, I stayed up all night, so I hope I didn’t spell anything too wrong. If you see anything feel free to let me know. The next chapter comes out on Wednesday, May 13th, so stay posted! Things are about to get CRAZY!