Chapter Three: Arcana

Chapter Three: Arcana

Note: I’d just like to take a moment to thank everyone for the massive outpour of support I’ve received for the story so far. From reblogs on Tumblr, to comments, to the number of returning readers, I couldn’t ask for more. Thank you all! I’d love to hear from even more of you in the future. Your kind comments always brighten my day!

Chapter Three: Arcana

There was a certain supernatural aura that seemed to linger like a heavy fog on this seemingly peaceful street.

The crisp white light from the vintage street lights seemed to cascade off of the damp cobblestone road in rows, rippling gently in the reflection of every body of water it crossed. Nearly every window held a shadow, the vibrant light of the moon reflecting off of them like mirrors every time the celestial body dared show itself from behind the veil of passing storm clouds. Every car that hugged the curbside seemed to have been there for only a short while, nothing lingering in this place for very long. Young birch trees cradled within urban tree guards obscured rows of attached row houses, shops, pubs on either side of the road, some of the small businesses seemingly containing residences within or above them. A few were guarded by pull-down security gates in an effort to keep their contents secure overnight. The only significant source of sound came from a small bar and grill towards the far end of the block, though that was not where the duo was headed. At least not at the moment.

As they passed by, Nero could faintly make out letters on the signs of several buildings. A florist shop. Another small grocery store. A bakery. Nothing especially innocuous. He scanned the lonely street, actively searching for the location that had brought them here in the first place. Considering the extenuating circumstances that had brought them here, Nero was almost desperate to hope for a positive outcome. But, taking into account the fact that the last time this place had been confirmed to be inhabited by the person they were looking for had been around the time he had been born, he was forced to be realistic. Then again, Dante hadn’t moved in that amount of time, so perhaps they had reason to suspect the same in this case.

Seemingly from nowhere, a cold breeze blew from some unseen place, causing Nero to shiver. It was uncharacteristically cold for the beginning of August, almost supernaturally so. Just as the youth was going to say something about it, Vergil came to a sudden stop in front of him. Nero joined him, the fingers of his right hand ghosting Blue Rose’s grip. He was more than ready for another fight. Vergil held up his hand, gesturing for him to stop. He tilted his head nonchalantly, gesturing in the direction of one of the nearby buildings. From what Nero could make out, they were standing in front of a shop with a multi-story townhouse nestled snugly above it. The narrow Edwardian building seemed to be historic, faint grey bricks edged with white pillars covering the facade. The upper floors seemed to be a sort of pale yellow plaster, but the windows, which there were several varieties of, seemed to share the same white detailing. All in all, it was a seemingly well kept but worn old rowhouse, not unlike the rest of the street. But Nero would be lying if he didn’t admit that something was just very… off about the place.

“So is this the place we're looking for?” Nero inquired, his eyes never leaving the building.

Vergil nodded quietly, seemingly lost in thought. This was one place he didn’t think he’d ever find himself standing outside of again. “Yes. It seems that she is still here.”

-~-

(About an hour earlier…)

“Ok, so let me get this straight,” Dante shook his head as he reclined in his desk chair, unable to do anything but laugh to himself. This entire situation was unbelievable. “The only person you think can help you out with this idea you won’t tell us about lives on the other side of town and you haven’t seen her in, what, two decades at least? And even if you do find her, you're not sure how she’s going to react to seeing you after all this time?”

Vergil nodded, not entirely sure what else of worth to contribute to his twin brother’s summation. His situation with Magnolia had always been complicated, but the last thing he needed right now was to have to explain his private life to anyone, especially his already justifiably pissed off son. Vergil folded his arms, thinking deeply. “I am not opposed to making a housecall, although she may take offense to the time. It is rather late and she does not live close by.”

Nero sighed, still at a loss for words. This conversation had been going on for the better part of three hours, and sundown was rapidly approaching. They had gone around in circles with the eldest Son of Sparda forever, inquiring as to what he had conjured up inside of his mind and how this woman that neither of them had ever heard of fit into it. And as expected, he had provided them with no explanation or reassurance. Nero could only assume it was because whatever he had planned was so outlandish or improbable that he didn’t wish to start another argument with them about it, but Nero had already reached his limit for the day and he was going to get some answers one way or another. After all, he was far from the type to just sit idly by and twiddle his thumbs waiting for others to fix everything, especially when it came to those he cared about. And despite their brief time together, Nero did include V on that list. Despite not being the most approachable person he’d ever encountered, he possessed a certain charm that had grown on him over time, and, by the end of their journey, he had come to consider him a friend. Or pleasant company, at the very least. He occasionally found himself sparing a mournful glance in the direction of V’s beloved book back home, a mixture of guilt and sadness washing over him that always seemed to linger the longer he spent time near it. He wished that there had been more that he could have done. Watching anyone suffer always took a toll on him, and the Redgrave Disaster had been no different.

“Look,” Nero sighed as he stretched his arms over his head. He was completely done with talking for one day,” Let’s just go. Nico can give us a lift. It won’t take that long. And then you can find out if she can help out and we can go from there.”

Vergil was seemingly natural to the suggestion but sighed in discontent nonetheless. “I am more than capable of handling this on my own. I shall return shortly.”

The eldest Son of Sparda unfolded his arms and took a step towards the door, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by Nero. The young man had migrated towards the back wall and retrieved his sword, clearly intent on following him. Vergil was slightly puzzled. Nero had clearly heard him. “Last time I checked, we spoke the same dialect, Nero.”

Nero placed the blade into the holster on his back and untangled his coat before adjusting his posture, clearly intending to follow Vergil regardless of his protests. Much like Vergil wasn’t receptive to their requests for him to explain his plan, Nero wasn’t receptive to the idea of being left behind by Vergil. He needed answers, and maybe this Magnolia woman could provide them. “And last time I checked, you were full of shit. You need a ride, and I have one. And we both need questions answered. So I’m coming with you, like it or not; I don’t really care either way right now. Not in the mood.”

For a moment, Vergil had to remind himself that he did not need another of his children’s death on his hands. And considering his past behavior to the younger descendent of Sparda, he didn’t have much ground to stand on with him. But regardless of that, he still found himself irritated with Nero’s unwavering fowl attitude towards him! “Do not test me, child. I am in no mood. You will stay here with Dante-”

“Nope. Not happening,” Nero interjected, seemingly unaffected by his father’s darker inflection,” I’m going with you. You’ve spent enough time avoiding me, and I’m getting the answers I need, and I couldn’t care less if you like it or not. I’m not some little kid you can just tell to sit in the car while you go take care of shit!”

Vergil stared at his son long and hard before closing his eyes and turning away from him and heading towards the door. The older man didn’t give him permission to come with him, but he had seemingly dropped his protests in favor of giving him the cold shoulder. Nero followed after him, admittedly somewhat pleased that he hadn’t allowed Vergil’s insistence to change his stance on the matter.

“We’ll be back later,” Nero shouted to Dante over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him. Dante scoffed in amusement, waving him on. The Youngest Son of Sparda had possibly just found the one person who was better at getting under his identical twin’s skin than he was.

Once outside, the two of them headed towards the van. After their fight, Nico had relocated the vehicle to a more fitting spot next to the front steps. The remnants of their fight from earlier that day still remained, dislocated bricks and scorch marks covering every surface in a considerable perimeter around the front entrance. It was amazing that the building itself had been unharmed during the battle. Nero opened the sliding door and stepped into the vehicle, startling Nico as he did so. The mechanic was leaned over her workstation, welding something together. “Damn it, could you knock next time or somethin’? I’m tryin’ to get work done here!”

Nero laughed at the comment, but only for a moment. He then leaned over the table himself, observing her work for himself. “I was wondering why you never came inside.”

Nico turned off the power tool and sat it down before lifting her protective visor. Just as she did so, Vergil closed the door and stepped around the corner, his eyes wandering around the space he stood in. Nico gave him an inquisitive look before coming around the table and approaching the eldest Son of Sparda to get a better look. “So your Vergil, right? Nero told me ‘bout you earlier.”

Vergil internally balked at her accent, not at all expecting it. He then nodded, deciding to not dwell on it. He didn’t really care what she sounded like, one way or another.. Nero walked past them both and flopped down into the passenger’s seat, kicking his feet up. “This is Nico. She’s the one that made the Devil Breakers for me after that shit you pulled in my garage. You can thank her for all that shit I hit you in the face with back then.”

Vergil nodded sarcastically at his son, not at all amused but admittedly intrigued as to how the young human woman before him had managed to do something so complicated on such short notice. “You have experience with prosthetics, then?” He asked, genuinely intrigued but not showing it.

Nico shook her head and pointed towards the plack on the far wall. “Naw, my grandmother was a woman named Nell Goldstine. Folkes called her the 45 Caliber Virtuoso! That, and my useless daddy studied demons.Tinkerin’ just runs in my blood, and the Devil Breakers are the start to a whole bunch of stuff I’ve been cookn’ up lately! Those demon assholes won’t know what hit em’.”

The dim light in the van was Vergil’s only saving grace as he visibly paled at the mention of Nell’s name. Was this some kind of Freudian waking nightmare? Was this some sort of ironic punishment? Why and how on earth did Nero end up friends with a Goldstine? Those were memories that Vergil had forced deep down into his subconscious a long time ago, and here was a living reminder of yet another regrettable crime he had committed in his youth.

Nico had joined Nero at the front of the van by this point and she was in the process of starting up the van, the both of them waiting for his directions. “So, where we headed?”

Vergil composed himself and let out a long sigh, thoroughly done with his day. “Bristol Street. Head towards Enamel City and to the center of the market district.”

Nico shrugged and put the car into reverse, violently acquainting Vergil’s face with the couch as he was thrown off of his feet and towards the floor. Nero snickered and shook his head. “Oh, yea. By the way, Nico can’t drive for shit! Forgot to mention that.”

Vergil glared up at his son as he collected himself. He had been taken off guard far too many times for his liking today. “Yes, Nero. I may have noticed that.”

-~-

Nero was confident that the next ice age would arrive before Vergil finally headed towards the stairs. He had stood there, looking at the stairs that led up to the front door of the row home for what had to be a solid five to ten minutes before finally heading towards the house. Even for the eldest Son of Sparda, he was uncomfortably quiet. Nero didn’t bother to ask why. He knew Vergil wouldn’t tell him if he did. But he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something more going on at this place that he initially thought. When they had first arrived, Nero had asked Nico to get in contact with Dante and keep him updated on the situation. Although there was probably nothing to be worried about, Nero didn’t fully trust anyone that he didn’t know. And he especially didn’t trust anyone that Vergil might be friends with.

The youngest descendant of Sparda’s train of thought was interrupted by the sound of Vergil’s discontent sighs. It didn’t take a mind reader to tell that he didn’t want to be here doing this. Nero glanced over at him and then the door, in slight disbelief that he had still hadn’t made an effort to knock on the door. “I fucking swear to god, If you don’t, I will.”

Vergil shot him a quick glare before reaching up to knock on the door. He paused before his hand made contact with the door, instead opting to use the knocker on the door instead. He delivered three quick knocks and then stopped, waiting for a response. After a long moment of silence, a friendly female voice broke the silence. “I apologize, but the Apothecary is closed for the night! You’re going to have to come back in the morning. But if it’s an emergency, do go to the hospital! I wouldn’t want you to expire on my steps, now would I?”

Nero snickered to himself. The woman had a slight British accent, and a very proper one at that. He had heard someone speak this way before, but he was still taken slightly by surprise. Vergil knocked again, this time with his hand. Light footsteps could be heard approaching the door, stopping just a few feet shy of it. “Oh, dear… I’m sorry but I must insist that you go elsewhere. We’re closed now. Try again in the morning?” She sounded almost concerned as she spoke, her voice caring a gentle and almost caring tone to it.

Nero was about to speak up when Vergil shook his head to himself and sighed, a mixture of discomfort and something else that Nero couldn’t quite place in his voice. “Magnolia… I have returned.”

In one rapid, jarring movement, the door swung open with enough force to pull it free from its hinges and slammed against the outer wall, bouncing back a few inches. Vergil caught it before it could swing closed again (or hit him in the face) and stared at her, seemingly just as startled as his young son was. A woman who didn’t look significantly older than Nero stood in front of them, her soft grey eyes staring at Vergil in a cold calculating manner. She was slightly wide-eyed, a fact that was slightly undercut by the fact that her long, frizzy brownish auburn hair obscured half of her face. It fell in spiral curls that ended at the cusp of her shoulder blade, a few grey streaks traveling through it on one side. She and Kyrie were about equal in proportion, although this woman was slightly shorter. She wore a grey and blue long hanging sleeved dress with thin leather buckles around the waist and a pair of half knee-length, soft grey leather boots adorning her legs.

The woman closed her eyes and Nero suddenly felt the sensation that something wasn’t right. When she opened them again, they were a bright, almost neon sign shade of red, her once diminutive stature now commanding and fierce. She raised a hand and held it out in front of herself as if to do something with it and Nero saw Vergil’s posture change. They were both ready to strike.

“So, um… are you Magnolia?” Nero asked almost cautiously. He had the distinct feeling that he didn’t want anything to do with what she had planned.

In the blink of an eye, Nero felt the air leave his lungs as his body left the ground and he veered rapidly towards a hard impact. He landed back first against the pavement, coughing and gasping for breath as he clutched his now throbbing chest and stomach. His ears were ringing and his vision was clear but spinning, leaving him a disoriented mess on the ground. As his head stopped spinning, he glanced around himself in a panic to regain his bearings, only to realize that he was laying at the bottom of the stairs. He had been knocked down?

As he moved to sit up, a wave of nausea hit him and a hand touched him, holding him back. He blinked rapidly and made eye contact with Vergil, who was shockingly, standing between him and the woman who had struck him down. Vergil had Yamato drawn and was addressing the woman before them in a tone that unmistakably tinted with rage. “Magnolia, your fight is with me. You will leave my son out of this.”

Magnolia stared at Vergil angrily from the top of the stairs before taking a long, slow breath and exhaling, her anger seemingly leaving her. She shook her head before taking a step forward. “Is the child hurt?”

Nero shook his head, sitting up to try and regain his senses quicker. “Well, besides the fact that you just threw me down the stairs, I’m just fine.”

She seemed relieved to hear Nero speak. “Forgive me, young one. That was meant for Vergil,” She said as she turned towards the Darkslayer,” You have some nerve coming back here! It’s been two decades at least! What could you possibly want from me after all this time?!”

Vergil sheathed Yamato but stood his ground, remaining between Magnolia and Nero, who was just now clambering to his feet. He looked down at the ground as if considering his next words carefully before looking back up to meet Her gaze. He spoke firmly and clearly.

“I need you to locate a lost soul for me. I’m no Alchemist, Magnolia. But you most certainly are.”

Thank you for reading this chapter! The next chapter will be out on Friday, May 8th, so tune in to find out how the hell they are going to figure this one out! Sorry for any mistakes. I ran this through two grammar and spelling checkers, but I’m running on fumes and my mind isn’t in this anymore. I stayed up all night to finish this the night of my birthday, so I’m just very tired. The next chapter is going to be very fun, and I look forward to having you guys read it! Also, are the chapters too long, too short, or fine how they are? Let me know in the comments! Have a wonderful day and stay safe!