This is the extra chapter, as promised, for reaching 500 collection. Hurray!
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In a corner of Castle Phenex's garden, was a pond of bubbling, boiling water. Twenty feet across in all directions, it was made from a redirected hot spring, constructed partly to nurture the imported yang natured koi fish, and partly for the vanity of using a hot spring a decorative feature.
In the middle of the pond, with small ebony walkway leading to it, sat a pagoda, made with rich mahogany and furnished with a tea table, turquoise dyed, plush seats and most importantly, an enchanted climate control system, which cleverly hid behind it, a second set of controls for a pair of privacy wards.
A place for having private conversations, away from the prying eyes and eavesdropping ears that penetrated every corner of the castle proper. Though, mostly, it was used by my mom and dad for an entirely different sort of penetration- I'd found a pair of towels and string of condoms in a hidden compartment some years back, and avoided the place since. This was where Ravel was conceived, if my calculations were right, and maybe even me, for all I know.
Today, however, it was being used to plant the foundations of my future peerage.
"Here." I threw him a clean towel as I activated the privacy wards. To anyone else who saw it now, they'd think we were just having a regular conversation, or whatever else their mind conceived of as appropriate. A harmless little mind magic woven into the enchantment. Sure, it wouldn't work on anyone High Class or above, but spies were hardly ever over Mid Class. High Class devils are strategic resources. No one would waste them on infiltrating enemy camps.
Sairaorg Bael looked at me with confusion.
"Clean yourself up." I explained, "I have a spare tuxedo of mine that you can use."
"There's no need. I will just-"
"Leave? Not until the party is over." I refused, "If you go in like this, people will start asking questions."
"No, I meant-" I didn't let him finish before shoving a vial of Phoenix Tears into his hands.
"Drink up."
He looked down at the vial for a moment before he realized what it was.
Flustered he tried handing it back.
"T-This is Phoenix Tears. I can't afford it."
"Well, I can, so drink." I popped the cap and forced the liquid down his throat as he coughed in surprise.
"But its Phoenix Tears-" He spoke between, coughs.
"Who am I?" I asked him, deadpan.
He fell silent for a second before replying in a soft voice.
"Riser Phenex."
"Exactly, and I, Riser Phenex, am rich. Filthy rich. This is like a drop in the bucket for me." I said, proudly, languishing upon the couch, "Besides, did I ask you to pay?"
"….no."
"See, consider it a gift." I waved off his concerns.
"But it's your birthday. I should be the one giving you a gift."
"Did you bring me one?"
"…"
"Show me already."
He struggled to form a clumsy little magic circle, and ultimately failed, before pulling out a summoning slip, pre-charged with magic and summoned…
A basket of apples.
I looked at him, he turned down his eyes in shame.
Poor boy…he's probably expecting me to judge him for it.
Well, I'm not.
I picked up an apple off the pile, and bit into it. It was crisp, sweet and juicy.
"Mmm…Delicious." I said, loudly, and it was indeed, "Thanks, Sairaorg."
"But…that's it." He said sheepishly.
"That's it what? Your demonic power or the gift?"
He shrunk into himself almost like a turtle.
"Both."
"Well, I can't speak about your frankly abysmal amount of demonic power, but the apples, they're good. It's a good gift."
"But everyone else got you so much, and-"
"Are you everyone else?" I interrupted him.
"No."
"Of course not. It's a gift from the one and only Sairaorg Bael. How can I compare it to any others?"
"But…"
"But-but nothing. Are there any other Sairaorg Baels?"
"…no." His spirits seemed to lift a little.
"Exactly. And that's why it's a very special gift. Just for me."
We sat in silence for a minute as I finished the apple and burnt away the core.
Then he broke the silence.
"You're not as bad as I thought." He said, softly, a little more comfortable now.
"High praise." I teased and he blushed in embarrassment.
"That's not what I-" He tried to correct himself.
I patted his back and laughed.
"I'm joking. Relax." I summoned a piece of cake from my inventory and placed it in front of him.
"Here. I can't in good conscience let you leave without tasting the finest birthday cake in the world, now, can I?"
"How did you know-"
"That you hadn't eaten any? Is it hard to guess?"
"No. No it isn't." He took the cake and smiled a little.
"But this isn't the best cake in the world." He added.
"Oho? And which one is that?" I asked, fully knowing the answer to that.
"The one my mom makes on my birthday." He spoke between stuffing his face.
"Well then I'll have to taste it someday, you little momma's boy." I replied.
"Really?" He was surprised and his face flushed with excitement.
"Don't forget to invite me."
"I won't." He beamed, happily.
"Good." I summoned a juice box for myself as I waited for him to finish.
"Why are you friends with him?" He asked once he finished.
"Iolava?"
Sairaorg nodded.
"He isn't so bad once you get to know him." I defended him, even though I didn't really consider him a friend per se. To me he was just a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy.
His fiancé Eneely Vassago was a close friend of Diodora Astaroth because their families were close, and I had only gotten close to him to get an in with Diodora, once he joined the Khaos Brigade. And even that was a backup of a backup plan, in case my dozen other ways of infiltrating that organisation didn't work.
Iolava Amon was a glorified guest pass into the Khaos Brigade for me.
My inner lootgoblin squealed in joy at the thought.
The Khaos Brigade was a veritable treasure trove of useful powers and artifacts of great power, not to mention the connections I could make to all the different pantheons and groups that were involved in that whole mess.
And when it inevitably collapsed, if I didn't topple it first, who else but me would be there to pick up the precious, precious pieces of research they had done and the now unemployed stray magicians with talent enough to recreate entire devil bloodlines in a lab and even mass produce Phenex Tears without us. The power to make entire armies of Satan Class devils and monsters. That alone was invaluable. Shame how much they fucked that up on their own.
But I had to admit, seeing it first hand, Iolava really was a sorry creature.
"Is he worse?" Sairaorg joked.
"No, he's just…pitiful." I chose that word carefully.
"Pitiful?" Sairaorg asked, puzzled.
"You probably already know this, but Iolava is the second son of the Amon clan."
Sairaorg nodded. It was common knowledge.
"And you know he is engaged to Eneely Vassago."
"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" He asked.
"The Vassago clan. Do you know what their clan trait is?"
"Nostalgia." He said before the horror dawned on him.
"No." He whispered.
"Yes. It is a little known fact, but by virtue of their traits, all Vassagos are borderline narcissistic sociopaths." I nodded, "And knowing that, his father still sold him to the Vassago clan. Sent away from his family as a child, to live with strangers, and not just that, strangers who have the power to enslave him, screw with his mind, make him fall in love with them, no matter what they do to him."
I continued.
"Abandoned by his family, abused by his fiancé. Only socially and physically for now, as far as I know, but how long before she starts to mess with his mind?
She humiliates him in public, makes him dress like a dog- for now in the privacy of their domicile, but again, for how long?- and treats him less like a partner and more like a belligerent pet.
She denies him the very basic dignity required of a person, and even then only in private to save face. She'd neuter him if it was up her, and who knows, once they have a few children, she just might."
"And you know what the worst part of it is? When his older brother fell deathly ill, and the Amons had to look for a backup to replace him, they didn't come back for him. No. They adopted the youngest daughter of the Agliarept clan, Avi Agliarept. A girl who can't even control her own demonic power. They chose her over their own flesh and blood son."
"That sort of abandonment, you of all people should know how that feels, Sairoarg."
Sairoarg hesitated for a moment before remembering something as he clutched his arm.
"So what, should I feel bad for him? He still bullies me."
"I'm not excusing his behaviour, just explaining it, Sai, can I call you Sai?"
"Sure." Sairaorg said with a conflicted look on his face.
"Why does he go after me then? Shouldn't he understand my pain too?" He asked after a moment of thought.
"At 11 years old, Iolava has given up. He has accepted his lot in life. He feels broken. He feels like his family, his whole world has betrayed him, and he lashes out like a kicked dog. Especially when he sees you."
"Why me?!" Sairaorg cried, shaking now, with a mixture of trauma and anger.
"Because he sees himself in you. And he sees you, still fighting your fate, never giving up, even when the whole world is against you. When you don't even have any power, demonic or otherwise. He sees you, someone weaker than him and lower in status, fight desperately against your fate with all your might and he feels jealous. He hates himself for not having the courage to speak up. To fight for himself. To even beg his family for help. To ask them why? Why did they abandon him? Why they chose a stranger's little girl over their own son? Why they never loved him the way they love her."
Sairaorg was on the verge of tears now, resonating with the trauma of one just like him, the mirror held to his own life threatening to shatter his self. He subconsciously backed away from me, physically trying to escape his own trauma.
And I landed the final blow.
"He is broken, Sairaorg. And he blames himself for it."
Sairaorg broke down into tears, burying his face in his knees, ugly crying as I wrapped an arm around him, caressing his head gently.
"It's not your fault, Sai." I consoled him, "It's not your fault."
Sairaorg reached his hands around me, pulling me into a tight hug, and wept like the nine year old boy he is.
"I'm Sooryyy, I didn't askh to be born dis way..." He cried, "I'm Sohory, please..."
"Shh...It's okay. It's not your fault, Sai." I rubbed his back as he buried his face in my chest, "Fuck them, fuck them all. It's not your fault."
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Yes, it's that scene from Good Will Hunting.
Its absolutely brilliant writing and I just had to copy it.
I was reading the wiki and realized this.
Iolava's life mirrors Sairaorg's a whole lot. Gives gaslight fantasy a whole new meaning.
Only Sairaorg had a loving mother who gave him the courage to keep fighting, even when the whole world was against him.
Iolava had nothing and no one. I thought this was an interesting topic to explore.
DXD did not explore any of this, these missing character arcs. They just said, "And one day Sairaorg decided to pull himself up by his bootstraps and then he became stronk!"
Missed opportunity. Well, I capitalized on it.
Tell me if you liked it or not.
Don't forget to donate your powerstones.
Thanks again to all of you.
We reached 500 collections!
Now if we could just also get to 200 powerstones....then you all get another extra chapter!
Next goal :
1000 collections - 1 extra chapter
200 powerstones - 1 extra chapter.