When he had received the urgent letter, the prince didn't take the time to stop and ponder its legitimacy. The letter came from Gusion's estate, so he trusted that the duke wished to address a serious matter.
When he arrived to the location in the letter, he was surprised to find himself outside a rather high end restaurant. More surprising was finding that it was Athena not Gusion, who was waiting for him.
"¿Qué carajo?" He looked from Athena, to the waitress waiting to serve them before looking back to the duke's daughter. When he felt Athena wrap her arms around his, the true meaning of it all finally clicked into place.
The shimmering egret rocked back and forth as if under the influence of something as she regarded Vassago. She seemed somewhat disappointed by the answers. "No one ever knows. Just me. I guess they can't understand the same way I do."
In a colorful flash she was gone, then reappeared beside him, seemingly looking for something. "Hmm.... Where's your constant anchor?" She stood straight up and peered at him, then jabbed a finger into his chest. "How do I know you're real?"
Gritt would use the little skull. He'd been at an event as a guest, mainly just high profile celebrities. But something came up.
'Dad? Theres a Goetia here, he won't leave me alone. Someone called Gusion. He's all pent up cos me and Patch's stories aren't in a little book of his, and he wants to find out why. He wants me to go with him. I told him I'm not going anywhere without someone to make sure he's not going to turn me into a lab experiment. Could you come with me?'
Alastor takes his own little skull from his coat pocket. There's a brief instant where his static rises to a loud volume, his eyes glitching into their dial-like setting, and the world around him distorts.
... Fortunately! It ends as instantaneously as it had appeared, and when he speaks, he sounds almost giddy rather than... murderous.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else!"
He doesn't waste any time. As soon as he's finished speaking, he tucks his skull away and drops into his shadow. It's only a matter of seconds before he rises out of Gritt's own shadow, his ears tweaking affectionately forward at the sight of his son.
Rakesh arrived at the grand mansion of Great Duke Guison, standing tall in the heart of the Pride ring.
It wasn’t just a home: it was a vast library, filled with books that held the secrets of Hell’s past, present, and future. The mansion’s design reflected its purpose: knowledge and power combined into one.
A servant awaited him at the entrance, bowing deeply before gesturing for him to follow.
The tiger demon had decided to listen to Sarin's advice and wear something more modern: a bottle green three piece suit with a white shirt and a floral green and gold tie.
The walk through the mansion was a familiar one. Rakesh’s sharp eyes moved over the first-floor library, bustling with Sinners and lesser demons browsing the public collection. He paid them no mind. This was not where his purpose lay.
The servant led him to the staircase, and they began their ascent. The second floor, reserved for Goetia, was quieter, its halls lined with shelves holding secrets and power most could only dream of accessing. Rakesh gave it a brief glance before continuing upward.
At last, they reached the third floor, where only the guests or the members of the family were permitted.
The servant stepped aside, opening the grand door for him.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, old friend."
The Maharaja smirked, crossing his arms.
He loved to tease Guison at any given opportunity.
"I was in the neighborhood and thought to come visit you...I brought some freshly made gulab jamun."
He placed the small, pink and gold paper box on a table.
Heresy's wind blew cold, and Vine sat in her tower. Feeling out the new surge of energy she had made her own.
Her foresight had given her the power to understand this. The ability to make new worlds had laid in some truly dark places in history, and it had been almost soul-sucking just to watch those dark arts unfold. But she had watched. She had learned. And since all of history and it's knowledge laid within her third eye, it was just a matter of finding it.
All Sins drew power from their Rings. Beelzabub could draw power from Gluttony to make fantastic feasts, to create food out of thin air. Satan could empower himself with the fury of Wrath, to become the titan he was born to be. And Vine knew firsthand what kind of influence lust could bestow at Asmodeus's hands.
She was drawing power from Heresy to find her own.
Magic had a different feel to it, depending on its use. Her own raw talent had it's own flavor, albeit older, from a primordial age. The power of Heresy felt...corruptive somehow. She pulled it from the Ring and felt it in her hand, and she felt as if she would undo whatever it touched. Yet with tests, there was little success. The wine in her cup did not turn to vinegar, and her silken robes did not turn to cotton.
At last she attempted with a spare piece of parchment. She had written a page of dialogue for her fanfictions on it, but had been displeased with the outcome. She touched it with the power of Heresy-
"...!"
The words on the pages shifted and scrambled. Impassioned text turned to Koine, to French, and then mixed itself. Everything that had been on it's surface was transformed, until she was left with something akin to what a toddler pretending to write might leave.
"....huh. Ha. Ahahaha...." A low laugh began. "Ahhohohohohoho!"
The laugh turned into a peal, and into a cackle. Vine nearly screamed in delight with the realization.
"....ohhh-" She had to breathe for a moment after her thrill left her breathless, panting over a page of gibberish. "-ohhh that is something now isn't it?"
The seeing glass shimmered.
"If Heresy draws its power from the written word-" She mused, the cover of the glass flashing tomes, papers and grimoires. An assistant in a hospital in Sloth boredly wrote patient information down. A teen in Envy wrote down in their diary. And at last-
A Duke observed his grimoire in Pride.
"-then I can undo everything that was ever written in Hell."
But what was the good of causing chaos in hospitals and offices? What thrill was there in bewildering the privacy of teenagers and their diaries, or bothering bored housewives and their romance novels? No. Better. She could make the maximum impact.
Vine drew the power of Heresy. Made it swell. That black magic in her hands and all it's fraudulent power. One grimoire appeared on the front of a glass, then another, and another. More images formed on the glass until it resembled the eye of fly, many reflections all at once.
The Queen of Heresy cast her curse, and watched the words that had given them so much power deform.
Vine laughed. The laugh would carry down clear into New Witchholm, and it's budding population might cower in concern at what their Queen was up to.
"Well then-" Vine returned to her seat. Old Witchholm wasn't going anywhere. Neither was she. "-no point in spoiling the future for myself when this is far more entertaining. Let's just wait and see this time."
Just as Vine had turned the primary power of Goetias into gibberish...she had turned her scorn into mirth.
When the appointed time came, Andrealphus arrived at the Duke's mansion. He tried to bring Caim along, but she and Yui were busy looking after their fledgling, so it fell to him to meet with the Duke alone. There would be plenty of time to introduce the mothers to the entity that would soon be making his arrival in this time period.
Once inside, Andrealphus greeted Gusion with a bow. "I am here, as per your instructions." And on time, to boot!
