Eating Your Weight: Sins of the Student

Sins of the Student

Wind whistled through the cold halls of the dark castle, the cries of mournful souls echoing through empty chambers with silent hearths. In a grand room overlooking the world outside, the owner of these empty halls was musing to herself, sipping a glass of dark wine as she gazed over the realm she had subjected all on her own.

It was but a single slice of the domain that had once belonged to her mother, but just like her own power, Brynn had taken it and made it her own. The wastelands outside her castle wall were once populated by the sick and unworthy, retches who were denied Valhalla or Fólkvangr through sheer lack of merit, but she had long since done away with them and replaced them with those who would suit her own needs – warriors, gods, and spirits who were actually worth the souls they housed.

Though she would be the first to admit, her choice in personnel came with its own fair share of challenges. Still, it was nothing she couldn’t handle.

“The issue has been dealt with, my Goddess,” Brynn’s ever-faithful aide bowed low before her, ashen hair falling across her shoulders like smoke as she prostrated herself as was proper. Wearing dark robes and possessing fairer features than most divinity could dare to claim, Gwen had been a staunch ally and companion for the goddess since before she had even taken up the mantle, and she had been invaluable for every moment of that time.

Brynn regarded her with surprising warmness, “As I expected of you, my dear friend. Rise and tell me, what was it this time?”

Gwen stood and lifted her head to gaze upon the lounging goddess with a blank expression, “It seems that the souls of your warriors grew restless without anything to occupy their time and decided to test the barrier between this realm and the next. I ensured that they were punished properly, as is your edict.  Their strength now adds to that of our borders.”

Brynn’s pale lips split into a smile, “Excellent. I suppose I shall send Tanya down to remind the rest of them of their place before they get any more foolish ideas. Though I’m sure the craven amongst them were cowed by your might, it is always good to take precautions.”

Gwen bowed, “As you say, my Goddess.”

Brynn motioned to the spot beside her, “Come. I find myself in need of company and an ear to listen.”

Gwen glided to the spot beside her chair, standing stoically in her usual place as Brynn resumed staring out at the vast sprawl of her realm. She could feel the magic of the borders straining against her mother’s influence, but it held strong and showed no intention of buckling anytime soon. Outside the window, lightning arced across the cloudy sky, a flash of momentary brightness in a world lit only by the light of her own magic hanging in the sky above.

Brynn took a sip of her wine. “Were it that I could simply send you to take care of that dragon…  I imagine that the beast’s power would have long since been within my grasp.”

“My place is by your side.” Gwen said stoically

Brynn smiled, “Indeed. Alas, I fear that it will be quite some time yet before our goals are fully realized. Though with its reappearance, my people are whipped into quite the fervor. They realize that after millennia of waiting, our time is finally upon us. It will not escape again.”

A knock at Brynn’s chamber doors interrupted her. The goddess frowned deeply before gesturing with a single hand, causing them to swing open and the man on the other side to fall forward. Brynn regarded him coldly, taking in his shivering form, “Serval… What possible reason could you have for interrupting my peace and quiet? Speak quickly and then leave me.”

Serval was a small man, if you could even call it that. Of Chinese descent and carrying a constitution more in line with a prey animal than a human with his skills, he wasn’t the type that she would normally add to her ranks, but she couldn’t deny his usefulness. Even if she found his general demeanor rather droll.

The shivering man got on his hands and knees, placing his forehead against the floor, doubtlessly dirtying his spotless suit in the process. “I-I apologize, master, but I have located traces of the beast’s power, just as you requested. I believe I have tracked it down to its home!”

Brynn’s eyebrows rose in interest and she regarded the man with her full attention for the first time. Though Serval wasn’t a warrior, his skills in magic made him especially useful for tracking and infiltration. If she was being generous, she would say that his ability to weave complex illusions was on par with Gwen’s, which was a feat that even most gods could seldom claim.

“Interesting…” Brynn’s lips curved into a cool smile, before she lifted a finger and made a beckoning gesture towards the man. Serval’s body locked up, his head raising and his eyes widening before they rolled back into his head. A thick cloud of green mist emerged from the man’s eyes and nose, whispering forth as she stole the memories that she was searching for and took them for her own.

As Serval collapsed, shivering and heaving, Brynn breathed in the smoke. Her eyes rolled into her head, memories dancing before them in quick succession, before the small smile on her face grew into a full-fledged grin.

“Kuoh… So, the wyrm hides amongst the Devils, does she?” Brynn chuckled quietly as she came back into herself. Serval was already gone, doubtlessly dismissed by Gwen, and the woman turned to her as she brought her glass to her lips once more. “How cowardly.”

Kuoh was a city that Brynn had long been keeping her eye on, just as every major player in the supernatural world would have been smart to do. It was home to not one, but two members of the remaining forty Noble Pillars of devilkind. Not only that, but both of them were the heirs to their respective houses, that of the Gremory and Sitri, making them even more valuable than they already were.

Brynn cared not for the politics of the Underworld, but even she could see the blatant flags waving in the air. Attacking such a territory would spell nothing less than war, a war that both Lucifer and Leviathan would have a vested interest in. 

While battling the Crimson Satan and adding his infernal soul to her collection enticed Brynn like nothing else, a war would only distract her from her true goal. Even if she were able to leave her domain at the moment, she doubted it would be a short trip and she didn’t have time to play general in a war that didn’t suit her interests.

That being said, nothing would stop her from getting the beast’s power, not even the threat of all three Great Factions crashing down upon them. Another Great War was nothing compared to the cataclysm they would endure, after all.

“Who will you send?” Gwen questioned, already anticipating her Goddess's decision. Brynn took a momentary sip of her wine, mulling the question over.

That was a conundrum. Many of her forces were unavailable, and her greatest warriors would cast a powerful shadow that would doubtlessly be detected by everyone within the province, jeopardizing the operation. The likes of Tanya or Alexander would doubtlessly draw the eyes of those below far before it was time. 

“Perhaps Agnir deserves the opportunity to make up for his previous failure,” Gwen suggested. “He has been very vocal in his desire to prove himself to you. He may yet succeed and if not, you can rid yourself of the burden.”

“Indeed…” Brynn digested her words. Agnir was weak, and it seemed even her power wouldn’t be able to change that. But perhaps he could be useful one last time. “Perhaps I shall send the Valkyrie alongside him. Those two have always been a rather effective team.”

Gwen tilted her head, blue eyes flashing as something occurred to her, “I seem to recall that our allies professed to having a vested interest in that city. If you were to send even one of them along as well, I imagine that they would be more than capable of dealing with the dragon should the other two fail.”

“An interesting idea,” Brynn said slowly. She didn’t like the idea of muddying this operation with forces that didn’t belong to her, but she would be foolish to turn down the assistance of warriors as strong as some of her own executives. “Very well. Send word to them. I believe it is time that they finally make themselves useful.”

“As you command, my Goddess.” 

Gwen bowed low and turned on her heel, marching out of the room to fulfill her master’s command as Brynn turned back to gazing upon her realm, watching as a storm brewed in the distance, far past the jagged crags bordering her castle. Excitement stirred within her for the first time in centuries.

She had bided her time for millennia, and now it seemed that it would finally pay off.

{— In Kuoh —}

The whole situation at school was still hanging over my head as I made my way through Kuoh later that evening. Rias had not been happy with the whole show I put on with Riser, even if her peerage – Issei especially – found the whole thing pretty amusing. I was pretty sure I messed up somehow, even if I wasn’t specifically sure how or what exactly I had messed up.

In my defense, I didn’t really expect to come in there and start a fight. Not my fault that guy was a prick, I sighed, scratching my head as I looked around, before zeroing in on something and headed in its direction.

The apartment complex was a nondescript, slightly aging building, but it looked pretty nice. I found the door address I was looking for and knocked, the sound echoing flatly in the outdoor hallway. There was commotion from inside, the sound of someone placing something down in a hurry, before footsteps approached the door.

A moment later, the door swung open, and Marcille stood there. He’d ditched the heavy coat, wearing a white button-down that was way too nice for casual wear in my opinion.

“Naomi,” he said as if he had expected me. He stepped to the side, gesturing me in, “It’s late. Please, come in.”

I stepped inside and had to resist the urge to whistle. Spartan would have been an overstatement. The place was newly rented, but it literally looked like nobody actually lived there. There were no pictures, no clutter, not even a stray sock. The only things that gave the room any character were a well-worn Bible on the coffee table and a linen-wrapped pole that I was eighty-percent sure was a sword leaning against the arm of the couch.

On the small stove in the kitchenette, a pot of something thick and saucy was cooking beside a neat pile of cut-up vegetables and meat. The smell of cheese and spices filled the small space.

“Forgive me for the lack of hospitality,” Marcille said, moving back to the stove. “I’m afraid I only prepared a single portion so I won’t be able to share.”

I waved him off, leaning against the counter. “Don’t worry about it. I already ate. Mostly just came by to see if you’d settled in alright.”

He stirred the pot with slow movements. “Kuoh is... nice. Quiet. Though I could certainly do without the looming presence of those Devils in the background everywhere I go.”

“You get used to it,” I said, looking around the empty room again. “Most of them are actually pretty decent, though I’m pretty sure one or two of them aren’t my biggest fans right now”

Marcille paused, his spoon hovering over the pot. He looked at me, a flicker of worry dancing in his dark eyes. “I hope my presence isn’t causing issues here.”

“Nah,” I said with a shrug. “They don’t even know about you yet. I’ll just tell them you’re with me. If they have a problem, they can shove it up their ass..”

He actually let out a snort at that. “I suppose I should have guessed that you would have carved out some authority for yourself even in a place ruled by Devils.”

“Well, I did live here first,” I said, grinning. “I’m not gonna let someone tell me what to do in my own territory, ya know?”

He shook his head, the laugh lingering in his expression as he plated a bowl of pasta alongside a glass of water. He moved to the small table and gestured for me to sit. I took the chair opposite him, watching as he began to eat with surprising discipline, not getting a single drop of sauce anywhere but his mouth.

“Have you been keeping up with your training?” he asked between bites. “Miyo mentioned you’ve been working with the girl, Aika.”

“Of course I have,” I told him, leaning back and crossing my arms. “In fact, I’d probably be able to give you a run for your money at this point.”

Marcille tilted his head, assessing me with those dark eyes. “A bold claim. I suppose I shall have to test that theory once my business here is concluded. I haven’t had a sparring partner who could truly keep up with me in quite a while.”

I saw the opening and took it. “Speaking of your business, mind telling me what’s really going on here?”

Marcille was midway through a bite of pasta when I asked the question. The air in the small room dropped a dozen degrees. He set his fork down with a slow, deliberate click against the ceramic, his shoulders squaring as he stared into his bowl.

“It is better if you do not worry about such things, Naomi,” he said, his voice flat and drained of the warmth it had held moments ago.

“Don’t give me that,” I said, leaning forward. “You’re in my city, acting like you’re running from the Yakuza or something, and Miyo is acting like she’s waiting for a funeral. If something is going on, I need to know.”

Marcille didn’t look up. “It isn't any of your concern, nor is it your business. You have your own life here. Stay out of it.”

I felt a surge of irritation prickle at my skin. I’d had a long day of being called a mongrel and dealing with high-and-mighty Devils, and I wasn't in the mood for the ‘mysterious warrior’ routine from someone I considered a friend. “Listen due. I like you, I really do, but this is where I live. If you’re planning on going around lopping heads off in the name of the Church, then you’re gonna tell me first or you’re gonna get gone. I’ve got more than enough on my plate right now and I’m not in the mood for this shit.”

Marcille’s body went rigid. His hand clenched the fork so hard the metal began to groan, and his eyes stayed fixed on my own, eyes wide and pupils dilated. It was then that I realized the air was humming with my power. In my irritation, I had accidentally flexed my aura, letting it wash over the walls of his apartment.

I blinked, taking a sharp breath and reigning the dragon back in. The pressure vanished, and the room felt quiet again. I softened my voice, trying to reach him and make him understand. “Please, Marcille. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Marcille stayed frozen for a long moment. Then, his grip on the fork relaxed. He let out a long sigh and looked up at me with a small, tired smile. “You really have grown quite powerful, Naomi. Very well. It wouldn't be right to keep you in the dark about this. Not in your own home.”

He pushed his bowl aside, his expression becoming somber. “Freed Sellzen... he wasn't always the monster he is today. Or perhaps he was, and I was simply too arrogant to notice. You see, Freed wasn’t a natural birth, born of the Church’s hubris and desire for more Holy Sword users. He was a result of an experimental procedure meant to create an individual capable of wielding a certain legendary sword, and was raised and trained in the institute where he was born. When the experiment was deemed a failure, all of the children were to be merged with our normal forces, but Freed was different – too unstable and holding no faith in our Lord. He was to be killed. 

“I saved him.” Marcille spoke the words like they were his greatest regret. His tone was low and his eyes were full of sorrow, “I saw this young child, saw the talent and ability that he possessed, and decided to nurture it. I thought that with enough discipline and faith, I could curb his sociopathic tendencies. I improved his skills, taught him how to move, how to kill… and he took to it like fish to water. I was blinded by his talent, and I didn't see the evil taking root until it was far too late.”

Marcille took a deep, shuddering breath, and I waited patiently for him to continue. “Eventually, the true depths of his depravity were revealed, and he was declared a traitor by the Vatican. As his teacher, I was part of the squad meant to hunt him down, as was Lucia. We found him, cornered him, and we had him dead to rights, but… I hesitated.” 

My eyes widened as Marcille’s voice cracked, his careful composure breaking for an instant, “I looked at him and saw the boy I had trained, not the animal he had become. I lost. And before Freed escaped... he did something I can never forgive.”

His hands trembled on the table. “He slaughtered my team and violated Lucia. I fear he would have killed her as well had I not woken up just as he was finishing the deed. He fled, and I chose not to pursue him so I could help her instead. It was my fault, after all. If I hadn’t hesitated, he wouldn’t have been able to do what he did. Nor what he has done since.”

I felt a cold, sharp rage settle in my chest. I thought of Lucia – the kind woman who saved Miyo’s life. The idea of someone doing that to her, hurting her in a way that nobody should ever be hurt, made my blood boil.

“I understand why you want him,” I said, my voice low and steady. “I think I’d like to rip his throat out myself, honestly.”

“It is my fault that he is even alive to draw breath today,” Marcille said, his eyes hard as flint. “He is a rabid dog that I helped raise. Now I have to make amends for my sins and put him down.”

“Miyo was right, then,” I said. “You don’t have a team coming, do you?”

Marcille shook his head. “No. This is my burden to bear alone.”

“Well, you’re wrong about that,” I countered, standing up. I looked him straight in the eye, making sure that there was no room for argument. “You’ve got a partner now. I’m not letting a piece of trash like that run around my city, and I’m definitely not letting you fight him alone. We’ll gut this scum together.”

Marcille looked surprised, his mouth opening as if to protest, but he saw the look on my face and stopped. He stood up as well, bowing his head slightly. “Thank you, Naomi.”

I left the apartment a few minutes later, the cool night air hitting my face.  Problems were stacking up – the cult, Mittelt, and now a psychopathic stray exorcist that could be literally anywhere. What did I do to deserve all of this drama?

Died, I guess, I thought wryly, looking up to the moon. My hands balled into fists and I let out a harsh breath. Whatever. I’m the one who asked life to be interesting for a change. Better not complain now.

The Cult, Fallen Angels, and now Freed, all of them. If they showed up, I would deal with them, one after the other. The only other option was to let my people get hurt and well…

That wasn’t really an option at all, was it?