Chapter 8: A Goddess's Unbreakable Oath

Chapter 8: A Goddess's Unbreakable Oath
I
Blood, carnage, destruction. That was the way of his world before he reincarnated into the Netherworld as a demon. He saw the many faces of people he has killed stalking toward him with screaming faces, spectral forms coalescing and whirling into one another in a nightmarish coagulation of ectoplasm and spiritual horror as they reached out with ghostly hands dripped with ectoplasm. Dante ran, trying to escape from the victims that he killed, trying to find salvation from his sins, and when Dante woke up, sunshine filtered through the open-paned windows, spilling onto the luxuriously carpeted floor in lemon-gold brilliance that highlighted the wine-colored carpets that felt plush against his bare feet as he got up from the bed and went to do his morning ablutions. He found the bathroom and eased himself into the bathtub after hot water spilled into the basin, where faceless magical constructs did everything from the scrubbing and cleaning and shamppoing and drying of Dante. Dante supposed he didn’t object, though becoming too overreliant on these things could make him become quite indolent and lazy. Though Dante supposed that despite having these faceless magical constructs to take care of everything, Eros and Thanatos supposedly did not turn out as lazy and spoiled brats who had no work ethic, though once again, Dante found himself wishing that he had a father like Vassago while growing up. While Dante was getting finished getting dressed, he heard a knock on the door, and Dante hurried there to open it and saw Vassago standing outside with his sleeves folded together.

“Breakfast is ready,” Vassago said, before he looked toward Dante’s furrowed brows and the slight tremble of his shoulders. “Sir Dante?”

“It was…” Dante said, putting a hand to his face, fingers trembling. “Just a dream.”

“Even if it was a dream,” Vassago said softly. “It doesn’t diminish the emotional effect and reality that it had upon you. Do you care to talk about it?”

Dante looked toward Vassago, before he said, “I saw their faces. Every last one of them.”

Vassago understood who he ewas talking about. “And you feel your sins haven’t been a absolved. Not yet.”

Dante shook his head, his demonic ears drooping a bit in sadness. “It’s funny. I wouldn’t have given a shit before. But now…I’m gaining a conscience and it’s like, man, I really fucked up my life, you know? My life was just on giant mess. One fuck up of a relationship after another, no one I could truly call a friend, no family I could rely on.”

“That is a valid and understandable feeling to have,” Vassago said. “That you feel lonely and that you had no one to support you growing up. But I want to let you know, that at least in this household, you’re not alone. You are one of my sons, as far as I’m concerned.”

“I don’t deserve to be your son…” Dante said as he lowered his head. “I did terrible things in my former human life. At least, when you were human, you…”

Vassago held up a hand. “I told Eros and Thanatos and Adelaide about my past. It was a long conversation and some of them were questioning why I hadn’t told them till now, though Adelaide, may she be blessed, said that I was a private man.”

“Wouldn’t you want to spill everything to your own family though?” Dante said.

Vassago sighed. “There are some things that I can easily tell to someone who wasn’t of this family initially than I can tell my own family. I’ve committed a great many sins as well, along my way to becoming the Grand Magus. The corpses of the many comrades I had to step over…the ones who kept me alive and spurred me on to live. I will remember those faces, each and every one. And I’m sure that you too, will respect and honor the dead and pay off their lives.”

Dante looked up. “Is that how it works?”

Vassago held up a hand. “It is not punishment, but rehabilitation. Besides, we do not mindlessly slaughter and kill. Not in my jurisdiction and temple. You will pay off the lives of those you’ve killed…but eventually, the more lives that you’ll save, you’ll become the hero of expectations that you were meant to be.”

“LIke those two children that I saved,” Dante said contemplatively.

“Yes, like those two children,” Vassago said.

“It’s a start,” Dante said ruefully. “But I have so much further to go.”

“That is all right,” Vassago says as he gently guided Dante into a hug. Dante relaxed a moment, letting down his guard, as Vassago continued on. “It all begins with the first step.”

“Hey,” Dante said when Vassago eventually released his hug and Dante looked up at the elder demon, who’s violet eyes resonated with intelligence and various lifetimes already lived. “When you say that you’ve seen the lives of your comrades stepped over to lead you where you are now nad you’re alive…what does that mean?”

Vassago remained silent for a moment, letting the pause linger with potent meaning. He turnedh is back and folded his hands behind him, his exorcist robes flowing behind him like raven’s wings, long white hair flowing down hiw back in a gentle snowfall of silken white hair. “I’ve lived long enough to know the cost and value of lives,” Vassago said softly. “And what those sacrifices mean. I’ve lived a long time, and will live a long time. Perhaps longer than I should.”

“You mean you will outlive your wife, your sons,” Dante said softly. “And me.”

Vassago nodded. “Yes.”

“I think that, even if you live past our generation,” Dante said, trying to give reassurance to Vassago. “You will influence a great many generations and shape young minds into something great. Continue the legacy of the Clock Tower and teach there. I’m sure that you will be a beloved symbol and status of the Grand Magus.”

“Eventually status will fade to obscurity and meaningless if itis not maintained,” Vassago said, before he turned to face Dante again. “I still live on, though sometimes I wonder if and how I should keep continuing on after my family is gone. I was hoping to name a Successor who would surpass me and challenge me, though knowing this, my sons will go through their own schools of discipline and you’re someone who was initially outside of the family who became part of it by saving my life. Truly, I’m indebted to you.”

“It wouldn’t have affected you,” Dante said, feeling flustered. “Most poisons don’t work…do they?”

“It’s still unpleasant to ‘die’ and be resurrected again,” Vassago said. “Or there could be neurotoxin type poisons that addle the mind and senses that make spell casting difficult. Even if you are immortal, there are countermeasures against it that can take away the longevity or meaningful attributions that such a life would warrant if you were to do good and well by the peole and society that you live in.”

“But…” Dante said. “If you were to be poisoned and something happened to your mind…would there be a cure?”

“There are some things that they don’t have cures for yet,” Vassago said. “At least, not in the Netherworld. Angelic magic is the most powerful healing magic of them all.”

“Aren’t there some Healers in the Netherworld? Aren’t you a Healer?”

“To a degree, I’ve studied some Healing Magic, yes,” Vassago said. “Mostly out of curiosities sake. I know necromancy and sorcery and elemental magic and onmyoujutsu and summonic magic and more besides healing magic, but most importantly of all, I study different branches and methodologies of magic so that I can better teach and accomodatem y students needs and learning for Spellcraft that they can use on their own for constructive purposes.”

“If you’re going to teach me Magic…will this help against the Overlord that is taking over this Netherworld.”

“I should hope so. You’re not sighted as a target yet, because the Overlord contends with those that he deems to be Calamities. You are not yet a Walking Calamity, but you are formidable, so he will be keeping an eye on you through sentries or probes. SO watch entrances and look for exit points. I will have magical sentries looking after you and my sons should you stray far from the Clocktower of my hoem, but not everything is guaranteed.”

Dante gulped, before nodding. “I’ll be careful.”

Vassago bowed his head. “Truly, Sir Dante, I wish I could shelter children such as yourself, and also my sons, from the true horrors and terrors of this world. Yet I also realize that I’m limited myself in power and have to trust the independent of the young and teach them how to care for themselves should someone like the Overlord come up in their lives. I am a Guardian, of sorts, of Seeking Lost Things, and I know that you seek something, Sir Dante.”

“I’m not sure what I’m seeking myself, to be honest,” Dante said with a chuckle. “Redemption, maybe?”

“My eyes see many things,” Vassago said. “And they’ve discerned that you will reign as a well-adjusted and good Overlord. I don’t see the details in-between, but to be honest with you, the reason why I took you in was because I’ve glimpsed this in you when I saw you hiding in the cabinet. Of course, this is not always guaranteed, and sometimes gods gamble with the lives of mortals, whether humans or demons or angels alike. Whether you will become a Hero of Legend and then a rising Overlord that rules over the Netherworld with justness and fariness is an entirely different thing.”

“But why me?” Dante said. “Why not your sons?”

“True,” Vassago said. “My sons would be equally capable Overlords in their own way. However, there are also other paths for them to pursue as well that could take place and I’m subtly nurturing. Only according to their desires, should they wish it, though I probe and inquire and talk to my sons and constantly ask what they wish for and I try to grant those wishes.”

“You truly love your sons,” Dante said, his throat tightening. “I wish that…”

Vassago’s gaze softened as he put a hand on Dante’s shoulder. “You’re not unloveable, Dante. Not from your past, and not because you reincarnated as a demon. Even demons can know love and deserve to be loved, because I think that, no matter how difficult one acts or what sins one makes, it can be rehabilitated and people can be lifted to heaven again if they work hard enough to pay off their sins.”

“But what if there is a sin that is too horrible to mention?” Dante asked. “There are some unspeakable things out there, right, that should never be done.”

“Perhaps,” Vassago said. “That is for you to decide when you’re Overlord. Though honestly? I wish for a world where all souls will be saved. We were born knowing nothing and die in the afterlife to become human, demon, or angel, depending on our deeds in our previous life…and honestly? I would rather be a demon sinner that lives honestly and true to who they are than be a hypocritical angel that preaches love and justice but doesn’t spare love to those who are difficult but need it most.”

“Vassago,” Dante said, his voice wavering, before he strengthened and lifted his back into a straight line. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Vassago said. “Now. Shall we go for breakfast?”

Dante nodded, and he was led down the spiral staircase into the kitchen nook where everyone was seated. He saw a dark-haired woman in the kitchen he hadn’t seen before, with black wings and a black spade tail dressed in modest clothing. He noticed a certain compellation and attraction toward her that was unnatural, and he looked questioningly toward Vassago.

“This is my wife, Adelaide,” Vassago said as he put a hand against her hip and drew her close for a chaste kiss that was gentlemanly as she was cooking at the stovetop. “Adelaide, I don’t believe you have met Sir Dante yet?”

“He’s the one who made an attempt to save your life without hesitation, right?” Adelaide said, before she smiled brightly and looked toward Dante. “Hmhm, I rather like him! Welcome to our home, Dante. I automatically declare you as our third son whether you like it or not.”

She scooped Dante into a hug, squeezing against him in a warm and tight hug, before she released him and continued to smile. “Please make yourself at home. I haven’t known that we would be preparing for guests, though feel free to stay as long as you like. Vassago explained your situation to me.”

“Right,” Dante said as he cleared his throat. “Um, so, breakfast. What is it?”

“Homemade waffles and syrup with chocolate ships and strawberries and blueberries and maple syrup!” Adelaide said cheerily, holding a stack of pancakes toppling high on a plate and serving Dante a couple of waffles on his plate and poured a generous amount of syrup on it. “Hope you like extra syrup, my sons are sweets lovers, though I can always hand you another plate if you want a little less. My sons eat a lot, as they’re growing boys, after all.”

“It’s fine, thank you,” Dante said, feeling his eyes mist again. He never knew the warmth and love of a mother, and Adelaide was the perfect vision of beauty, kindness, wisdom, intelligence, and duty. “I don’t deserve all this kindness. Really.”

“Oh, honey,” Adelaide, putting a hand on Dante’s sandy blond hair. “You’re worthy of love. Everyone is. This may sound weird coming from a Succubus and people come with the assumption that I don’t know true love because the people around me become charmed by me, though Vassago taught me my value wasn’t in my charm or beauty but as my intrinsic worth as an individual. That I’m strong and kind and will work hard toward a goal to achieve it to the end.”

“You wanted to settle down and make a home, right?” Dante said. “Was there anything else that you wanted to do?”

“I’m very happy tending to my sons and husband,” Adelaide said as she hummed and continued cooking more waffles as the plate continued to get more stacked. “Though my job gives me satisfaction as well.”

“What is your job?”

“That is a secret~” Adelaide said with a wink.

Dante sweated, but didn’t want to make any assumptions. He was sure that whatever Vassago and Adelaide arranged out between them, they trusted one another completely and created a wonderful home and environment for their sons. To live under such conditions was ideal—and Dante wished he had this while growing up.

Dante headed to the table and seated himself. Thanatos and Eros waited as Dante was seated. While everyone was at the table, and murmured a few passing conversations, they began to eat. Dante tried the waffles, and found it bursting with savory flavor and sweetness. Adelaide’s cooking seamed with love and care, something that her sons ate everyday before they went off to school.

“Oh, Dante,” Adelaide said as she fussed over Dante and began to wipe at his mouth with a napkin. “Vassago signed the paperwork for you to study as a Mage at the Clocktower.”

“Thanks,” Dante said, grinning appreciatively. “I was hoping for that opportunity.”

“So when you go to school, make sure that you have your books prepped and your bookbag prepared and everything else,” Adelaide said as she scooped in some extra books that Vassago apparently prepared. “Everyone is looking forward to meeting you.”

“Will they really want someone like me there, though?” Dante said nervously.

“Don’t worry, you’ll fit right on in!” Adelaide said with a smile, before she patted Dante affectionately on the head again. “Listen, the people at the Clocktower are good kids. They’re there to study magic.”

Thanatos took a bite of waffle, before he said, “We’ll be there to help show you the ropes.”

“Wow,” Dante said. “Sounds like Vassago sure has his hands busy.”

“It is satisfying work,” Vassago said. “But I mostly do it to educate and teach.”

“That’s a wonderful goal,” Dante said as he thought about it, before he took another bite of waffles loaded with syrup and strawberries and munched on it. Once again, the flavor was beautifully fragrant and flavorful as the sticky sap of syrup melted on his tongue and the soft fluffiness of the waffles touched his tongue, while the tangy tartness of the strawberry with a profile of sweetness accentuated its notes. If Adelaide cooked something like this everyday for breakfast, Dante wasn’t sure how he would manage such rich and savory meals, though it was good and he was content to enjoy it. He would enjoy this life as it lasted—though sometimes he would be tempted to stay forever, even if he knew that one day he would have to leave this and become independent once he stood on his own two feet in the Netherworld.

Thinking of being part of the Clocktower, however, seemed like a prestigious thing. Did he honestly believe himself to be worthy of the Mages an demons of magic bloodlines to go there? Someone who was a former assassin? Still, this was a great opportunity granted to him, and he couldn’t afford to mess this up. He needed to make a good impression on the teachers and students so that he would fit in, or else he would lag behind and he would have no future as he allowed his complacency to catch up to him and leave him with more work to take care of later in life to catch up. So, this was a great opportunity—and not only that, it was a chance to get an education. The only thing that Dante really knew how to do in his previous life was to kill. He was a tool, a weapon to be used. He wasn’t someone with a future, he was someone to be manipulated to benefit someone’s own profits and gain. He knew that much as he was growing up, and his life was disposable. His life had no meaning to the higher ups, he was only alive as long as he was useful and served his purpose. And when he no longer did, they got rid of him.

Then, he would have to think about what kind of Mage he wanted to become in the future. Did he want to follow in the footsteps of someone as grand and dignified as Vassago Fortunato, or did he want to become an entirely different kind of Mage? How about Eros and Thanatos? What kind of paths would they take? Would they be helpers, friendly rivals, or would they be heirs to a position that he was aiming for himself? When Dante remembered his past training as an assassin, he learned how to hold a gun at seven and how to shoot and dissassemble one within record time with nimble fingers. He learned to withdraw it from his holster and shoot down adult assassins through the training of a mentor who himself he had to kill and surpass when he came of age to prove that he was worthy of the Assassin lineage—and to show that he had no ties. Knowing that he had ties and roots here in the Fortunato home…felt nice. And being able to have such roots was something that he hadn’t known before, until now. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it, exactly, because he thought these emotions were long since been deadened inside of him, though a warm glow suffused his chest with warmth when he thought of the man that actually gave a damn about him.

“What, you spacing out on your first day of school?” Thanatos said with a hint of a teasing edge in his tone. “You might give the students and teachers the wrong impression about you, Dante.”

“Oh nothing,” Dante said as he swallowed and continued to fork more waffles into his mouth.

“Don’t tease him too much, Thanatos,” Eros chided gently, before he gave a warm smile toward Dante. “Don’t worry about him. You’re welcome in the Clocktower. If anything, Estelle and Lunelle are always happy to greet new students and show them around.”

Dante perked up. “Estelle? Lunelle? Those two…?”

“Our girlfriends,” Thanatos said while pointing his fork toward Dante.

Dante thought about it, thinking about his own relationships which were never real and were only part of a facade as he took on various guises and personalities. In fact, Dante wasn’t sure whether his personality was a guise right now—whether he was genuinely starting on the act and pathway to becoming a Hero, or whether he was merely playing a performative role for a performance’s sake. Dante never once thought of himself as a hero before—how could he, when he was raised to kill and had blood stained hands from his former profession? But still…

Even so…

“The Goddess Melusina said that Kahlan and I were meant to be,” Dante said as he thought about it.

Thanatos raised a brow. “An angel?”

“Apparently,” Dante said. “I haven’t met her yet. Nor do I know where she is.”

“Well, you can always ask us for help,” Eros said with an inviting smile, before he said. “Besides, the Clocktower is a giant hub of information where demons and sometimes angels gather.”

“Angels go to the Clocktower?” Dante said, now his turn to raise a brow. He knew, as far in his experience, that angels and demons didn’t get along together. Fallen angels, perhaps, but pure blooded angels?

“Yup!” Eros said, before his eyes sparkled. “Rumor has it that our Father has Angelic blood in him.”

“Oh stop it,” Vassago said, sightly reddening in his ears. “I’m a demon through and through.”

“You say that, Adelaide said as she leaned close and planted a kiss on Vassago’s cheek. “But you’re a natural sweetheart on the inside. Despite your stoic demeanor and all.”

“Mm,” Vassago said, taking a bite of his waffles and trying to hide his embarrassment.

Ah, Dante thought. There’s a human side to Vassago after all. He secretly smiled to himself as he noted this interaction between his sons and his family, and Dante thought about how he would like to start a family of his own one day. He hadn’t always thought of that before, never had the luxury to.

Dante continued to fork more waffles into his mouth and found that he was actually hungry. Since when had he eaten meals this good since…forever? When he was an assassin, he only survived off of rations and prepackaged foods that only apportioned out the necessary nutritional needs that someone like him needed to survive. Not for flavor. Not for notes of sweetness of salty savoriness or tangy richness. But this food served before him with love and care, and the company at the breakfast table, proved one thing—that he was loved and cared for. Dante initially felt reluctant to partake in the meal at first, because what right did he have to such rich food? But he didn’t want to spurn the Grand Magus or Vassago as his mentor and pseudo father figure that he always wanted in his life, so he went along with the family ritual and ate. He listened to the twins bickering to one another about their daily affairs at the Clocktower whie Vassago and Adelaide exchanged subtle but meaningful glances and brushes of affection at the table, all of which Dante noted. As an assassin, Dante was supposed to be someone who watched. Who observed. Who noted the subtlest deteail about everyone. He flushed to his ears in guilt, wondering why he was trying to profile a family instead of trying to share a nice meal with them.

You’re not deserving of this, a voice said in his mind. One day they will know. One day they will see that you’re not worthy or being called son.

Dante swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat and almost choked on his food in astonishment before Adelaide was immediately by his side to calm him. “Dear, if the food is not to your taste, you don’t have to force yourself.”

Dante forced the food down, before he shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“Oh?” Adelaide said as she put a hand against her cheek. “You seemed upset about something and I was wondering whether you didn’t like what I cooked.”

“Everything was delicious,” Dante said softly. “I just…”

“You feel you don’t deserve it, honey?” Adelaide said, before her eyes watered and she drew Dante into another hug. Dante thought about pulling away, hesitated, before he allowed himself to be drawn into her warm, enveloping hug. Knowing the embrace of a loving a mother who cared about him, like Adelaide. “Everyone wants to be loved. Everyone wants to be understood. Even demons understand that, right?”

Dante nodded mutely. They may be demons, he thought, but I was a monster. He lowered his head as Thanatos and Eros continued to bicker with one another over the breakfast table, seeming to pay no mind to Adelaide and Dante as Adelaide pulled him aside a moment and began to talk to him in private.

“Listen, Vassago is a good man, but he’s not good at emotional matters like this,” Adelaide said. “Not that he doesn’t care, though he hasn’t been taught to express himself freely. If you feel angry, you should feel angry. If you feel sad, you should cry. There’s nothing wrong with emotions, and if you feel something like shame and guilt, it means that our senses our recalibrating our moral compass. Though the one thing that shouldn’t happen is to have guilt hanging over your head like the Sword of Damocles, you know?”

“You don’t know my past…” Dante said.

“No,” Adelaide said warmly. “It doesn’t matter, and what’s in the past is in the past. You are our son now—and we will do everything to protect you and provide for you until you can make it safely out in the Netherworld on your own.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Dante said with a small smile of his own, returning her warmth.

“Oh, it’s no problem, Vassago has a soft spot for children,” Adelaide said with a giggle. “It probably comes from his past, which is what I’ve always suspected, but he never told me about it until now. Which I have you to think for, Dante.”

“I’m glad that I was able to have a positive impact on someone somewhere,” Dante murmured.

Adelaide put her hands on her hips, her black wings fluttering, before she said. “You know…Dante…Vassago expects great things from you. Not because you’re his son, not because you will one day become OVerlord, but because you’re trying so hard to be good. Almost like it’s a compulsion.”

Dante looked away.

“What if it’s just an act? Like…it might be the ‘Hero’ title affecting me or something.”

“I think it comes from an honest place in your heart,” Adelaide said, gently correcting him. “I may not know your past, but I know that you’re trying your best and that’s all that matters. I focus on the here and now and the future, what a person is striving to become, than who they were in the past. Because to be honest? A person is not a single snapshot of someone they used to be in time.”

“That is true,” Dante said, before he laughed. “You would make a good therapist.”

“That is not my secret profession, you know,” Adelaide said with a teasing smile. “Though I always wanted to be one, actually. To help others and to be able to let other people express their feelings freely. Isn’t that what being a demon is all about?”

“Yeah,’ Dante said softly, biting his lip, before he said. “Adelaide?”

“Hm?” she said, dr ifting close.

“Can I…have another hug?” Dante said, feeling awkward.

“Of course! You can ask for all the hugs that you want!” Adelaide said, her eyes watering against as she wrapped her arms around Dante and pressed him close. “My sons never ask me for hugs, but I’m glad that someone wants to have a hug from me! You’re never too old to ask for a hug, because they help you feel better and give a bond closer to that person.”

“Ha…” Dante said, becoming even more flustered and was tempted to draw away but didn’t want to hurt Adelaide’s feelings. “Your son’s don’t want hugs? Why not? You’re a great Mom.”

“Oh, they would ask for hugs all the time as little kids,” Adelaide said. “They couldn’t get enough of them! But now, as they’re fourteen and in their moody fourteen year old selves, they think that they’re too ‘old’ for hugs. Well, as a 2500 year old woman, I’m never too old for hugs by anyone, and I’m willing to dispense hugs anywhere and everywhere.”

Dante wondered if there were lecherous men who took advantage of Adelaide’s hugging and whether Vassago got jealous—which was kind of another amusing and humorous thought when it came down to it. Though he supposed with Adelaide’s position and Vassago’s status as the Grand Magus, no one would attempt such a thing. Still, after having breakfast and the intimate talk with Adelaide, he went back to the breakfast table a little light, grinning from ear to ear as he began to finish the rest of his waffles with gusto.

“Sir Dante seems to be in a good mood,” Vassago said with a hint of a smile on his lips. “What changed?”

“Ah, nothing,” Dante said “Just a talk between Mom and I.”

The smile that Adelaide gave him after tht was one of the most beautific smiles that he’d ever seen, and when she cleaned up the dishes after everyone was finished, she planted a kiss against Dante’s cheek and whispered in his ear, “Thank you.”