AuthorSME
patreon
The Oscillation: B5 — 27. A Devil Set Free
🕑 Added 2022-10-17 08:20:44 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Rachel Park (Our Determined Lunar Hare)
Google Document (You Can In-Line Comment)
----------------
Leaving the knights to clean up, Rachel carried Elinnila out of the drained and hidden-away ritual site of France’s labyrinth-like catacombs; Jeanne and Count St. Germain followed.
She gave the blonde woman time to process everything, waiting for her to respond, and once they were out of sight from the bustle of plated men, Rachel promptly dropped the sniffling succubus on the ground.
“Oof… C-Could you be a tad more delicate?” she hissed, rubbing her backside and adjusting the oversized black robe. “Why must I continue to endure such physical abuse when I am compliant?”
Jeanne’s mouth tightened at the watery-eyed child’s pleas. “It disgusts me that such a foul soul would take on such an innocent appearance… I suppose you must know the truth, St. Germain?”
“Hmm…” His sparkling golden irises studied the girl, but the devil balked a response before he could comment.
“Huh? This is your fault, Mistress,” the succubus shot back, brown eyes and red cheeks still puffy with emotion. “Do you really believe I wanted to be… be this helpless child?! I cannot access any of my energy without your express permission!”
Rachel snorted, moving to the side to see the kid glaring at the agitated saint. “Yseress can be a bit of a bully, but I think she took out all the frustration she’s felt toward Nia and me on her. What are your thoughts?”
“I don’t know!” Jeanne groaned, backing against the wall while rubbing her forehead. “You show up out of the blue, drag me into some Hell ritual, and then force this devil onto me with the knowledge there are more hidden fiends in my city… among other things. I cannot make broad decisions on my own, Rachel; I answer to our three branches of power.”
“Such is politics,” Rachel chuckled and shrugged. “I’ve given you the tools to handle the problem; it’s up to you on how you go about disclosing the details. What about you, Louis?”
The count rubbed his hairless chin, glittering eyes shifting to her as Elinnila pouted, having no other way to release the abrupt change to her state in life.
“I find you to be an adept disruptor, my lady,” he mused, French accent thick. “You are mysterious and drawing upon the bend of time… It is fascinating, really, and reveals many curious paths that I must study.”
“Haha!” Rachel had read St. Germain was an odd man, but he didn’t appear phased by the Hell ritual in the least. “Well, I’d love to hear what you see when you get something pinned down.”
“But, of course! I am at your disposal,” he bowed.
Jeanne took a deep breath before letting it out and setting her resolve. “Okay… Elinnila, find the closest demon or devil activity while I talk to Charlemagne… Hopefully, he’ll be able to soften the blow. Ugh, but… we do need to find her something to wear besides a robe.”
“Great!” Rachel chimed, turning to the bitter succubus as she crossed her arms in a child-like way. “I’m sure we can find some clothing store still open at this time… In fact, I can hear one open not that far away.”
Elinnila kicked a nearby stone, wincing and crying out. “Why must you restrict me to this pathetic state?! Everything hurts—it is difficult to walk—I have never felt so embarrassingly wretched!”
Yseress snickered from within Rachel’s Core, enjoying every moment of the trapped succubus’ misery, and she was beginning to wonder if the nephilim had a grudge against the species of devil.
It didn’t take long for them to find appropriate clothes—a spaghetti-strap dress—that would accommodate her tail and wings whenever they appeared and followed the grumbling devil through the streets.
Jeanne contacted her superiors and those still hanging around in the background, informing them of the reasons Rachel was in France, which included the rescue of a young Mythickin; the woman groaned when she casually mentioned the teenage girl was the Myth of Charybdis.
Rachel and Louis slowed, watching in fascination as Elinnila begrudgingly brought them into a rather filthy alley before hesitantly reaching into a shadow—acting as if she were sticking her hand in a toilet bowl—to extract a struggling imp.
“W-What—Nippy did no wrong against bossy-bosses! Nippy good de—”
Jeanne cringed, but not as much as the succubus when stuffing the struggling imp in her mouth and swallowing.
“Ick… Limbo’s Southern Salt Pit fiends… Why are there so many… Mmgm… I don’t want them! Bleh! I’m going to throw up…”
“Go on,” Yseress spoke through some soundless pulse of devilish energy that only they could understand. “Eat your salt!”
“Why are you—ugh, torturing me, Mistress… The Third Circle has been in discord since Lady Izanami’s capture… No one likes Lucifer exerting more influence! Oh, no… this one’s fat…”
“Mi no taste good! Pzzz! Mi eats lots of icky animal souls!”
“Ick… I’m not doing this out of enjoyment!”
Jeanne averted her eyes from the devil, seemingly cornering the imp infestation and trapping them into the shadows. “Do you have to make it so… vocal? You don’t need to eat them.”
“Does she not?” Louis questioned with interest, taking notes in a book he’d produced from nowhere. “From what I can tell, the entities are actually being destroyed rather than sent back to Hell.”
“Bingo!” Rachel nodded, having had a rundown from the devil. “If anyone were to typically kill a fiend, it would simply return to Hell, but think of a stronger devil’s complicated anatomy as a cage and grinder that strips lesser fiends into fuel.”
“Gross and inefficient fuel,” Elinnila complained, taking out another struggling imp. “Why must I be the sole devil that cleanses this entire city of every tiny fiend? These things aren’t even that bad,” she hissed, holding up the small creature, practically the size of Fiona. “They only go after tiny things like rats or cats.”
“Babies,” Rachel responded.
“Well… if they can,” Elinnila mumbled, glaring at the trembling imp in her tiny fists. “Didn’t I hear something about ‘overpopulation’ in this particular world from word of mouth? Aren’t they acting as humanity’s janitors?”
“Shut your mouth,” Jeanne snarled, causing the devil to happily comply, using the command as a means to cease her meal. “You make me want to put my spear through your heart… I am so low on patience right now! No… not you, Charlemagne. Haaa. Sorry. Keep destroying the imps, Elinnila.”
Rachel chuckled at the sour look on the girl’s face as she glared at her talkative food; ultimately, it was no different than any other natural food chain, and she wasn’t being cruel about it since Elinnila wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.
Several minutes passed with the succubus continuing to use the spot to gag down imps before Jeanne ended her call, and it was here Louis dropped a bit of a bomb on them.
He hummed, studying Rachel and the blonde beside her before gesturing between them. “Riddle me this… What do a one-eyed lioness, a natural disaster, and a snake amongst the sheep have in common to bring chaos?”
Rachel’s ears tilted to the left as she grinned. “Me? I don’t know who this one-eyed lioness is—should I?”
Jeanne’s face darkened. “Jeanne de Clisson… Why are you bringing her name into the conversation?”
Ears lifting a little at the tone in the Saint’s voice, Rachel found her curiosity piqued; she hadn’t heard the name as of yet, but it wasn’t surprising, considering the amount of information she had to parse through.
A small smile played at the corner of Louis’ mouth as he turned his gaze to the street, seemingly seeing something else while producing a coin-sized ruby from his sleeve to peer through. “Interesting… Yes, the burning of logs on the pyre… producing shapeless smoke to be culled.”
Her curiosity deepened when the jewel lowered for him to take out an old book from a handbag to flip through the pages.
Jeanne turned her attention to the devil as she finished the nest, attempting to look as if she was going to throw up; her tight lips said she’d dealt with his ramblings before.
“Ah—yes… No, but if such an omen were to bridge to—ah-mmh-yes… I see the madness spreading… misfortune following. The blood rose that pricks the moon, dying it crimson for a night of fallen stars… Mmh?! The Shadow that becomes the spark of disaster…”
The blonde directed the sullen succubus to find the next location, but Rachel continued to keep close track of the fevered excitement boiling up in the alchemist’s expression; there was something about her that had drawn him to her location, and with the man’s mysterious legends involving time travel, it was prudent to wonder what he’d discovered.
By the previous statement, Rachel assumed Melissa’s sister, the agent of Revilla, and Jeanne de Clisson were all connected, yet whatever insights St. Germain had now stumbled upon was something far grander of a scale.
Jeanne’s face said she was done with the show. “Can you ever not speak in cryptic half-sentences—if that—and give us a straight answer?”
Rachel held up a hand to say she wanted him to keep going, but the man’s thrill seemed to temper at her prompt.
“Ah. Excuse me, my ladies, I have much else to attend to, yet the sight I beheld due to your abstract effect on the passage of time has been most… enlightening,” he smiled, snapping the volume of unreadable words and symbols shut before turning to leave.
“I’m glad I could be of help!” Rachel laughed, filing the information away.
After the second step, he paused, head tilting to give her a knowing twinkle. “If there is one foe to be cautious of in your litany of enemies, my lady… beware of Empress Wu and her abandoned child; China moves in the shadows to its own agenda and plots that seek to manipulate your influence in this grand design.”
Jeanne sighed as he left. “Such an odd man; many people think he’s a prophet, time traveler, or conman, but no one can be sure.”
Rachel hummed, walking further into the alley to another street after Elinnila, completely disinterested in their discussion; she was confident he had some power after some of the things he’d said, and China certainly had its share of influential figures.
Of all my enemies… those two, St. Germain? And how do you play into this game?
Letting it stew in her mind, Rachel held her arm behind her back, tilting her ears to follow all the happenings of the city; she couldn’t hear Fiona’s group, yet there were plenty of French watchers she could listen in on to understand what they were doing.
“Jeanne… I imagine you were either planning on cutting ties with Twilight or already have after everything that happened in Cuba. Do you suppose she planned on your direct involvement in order to guide us together to keep you within the scope of her plan?”
The saint kept a close eye on the slumped-over devil as she guided them to a rather ominous area of Paris’ back alleys, rubbing her shoulder blade. “I’m cautious of anything involving that creature… It’s unnerving just being in her presence, and her bodyguard is… troubling.”
“Bodyguard?” Rachel repeated.
A shiver ran down the woman’s frame. “It’s not…” she trailed off, apparently lost for words. “It’s not… right—it doesn’t really have form, yet… it does.”
“Okay… Any descriptors?”
“Most typically… a well-fitted suit… and without a face. It is creepy beyond description, and gave me a similar feel as Revilla, now that I have faced her.”
“Huh. Thanks for the tip,” she grinned.
“Humph.” Jeanne’s arms crossed under her bust. “I can guess you wish for me to set up a meeting.”
“Oof. Called out!” Yseress snickered.
Rachel shrugged. “It would save a lot of time, and there are things I need to ask her. Will you?”
Silence ensued as she thought about how she should answer, and after a few seconds, she began to notice a slightly stronger demonic presence ahead; the street lights flickered out of some horror movie, causing Jeanne to scowl at the various paranormal activity and mist that moved around them.
“Just take care of it quickly, Elinnila… I want this over with as much as you.”
“Finally!”
Horns grew out of the little girl’s forehead, her eyes becoming dark pits with a distant, drawing light pulling in all those that looked at her inside their void. Her tail and wings sprouted out of her back moments later, stretching out and flexing.
“Disembodied escaped spirits can actually taste good with the right seasoning…” The little girl snapped her fingers for several hazy forms to solidify in the air, crimson barbs peppering their bodies from hellish energy that formed out of nowhere, locking them in place. “Mmh… How to cook these spirits, though…”
They didn’t stand a chance, yet Jeanne pulled Rachel’s head away from the devilish ritual. “Can I ask you one question?”
“What’s up?”
“Do your goals align with France… Will your goal help to keep my fellow countrymen safe?”
“Haha. Just because I cause a little chaos doesn’t mean I’m here to cause unnecessary harm to people—that would only impede my goals—right now, I’d like your help to bypass most of this political drama so I can do what I need and leave. Understandable?”
“It is,” Jeanne whispered, frowning at the devil preparing her meal by toying with the trapped corrupted spirits. “If what I connected through St. Germain’s words is correct… I believe I do need your help, Rachel.”
Without a doubt, St. Germain set these events into motion for his own benefit… If he’s attempting to put my focus on this enemy—one Jeanne is so concerned about—could that take our eyes off Revilla for an escape? I could see him using Revilla and all of this as some complicated game of give-and-take for some other result… His appearance and exit were too swift, yet he seemed to have achieved his goal.
“I’m listening. This doesn’t have to do with Jeanne de Clisson, does it?”
“She’s insane.”
“Okay?” Rachel’s ears fell forward a bit upon hearing an elderly couple talk about an event that didn’t quite make sense with Jeanne’s name involved, yet someone who shared it with her now clicked. “Blackbeard’s assault on Paris?”
“Huu-haaa. Let me explain…”
Rachel had planned for it to take up most of the night, but the centralized powers holding Paris together were a bit more than she’d expected.
Queen Margaret of Anjou—a member of the legislative branch—had ‘asked’ her to digitally mark the places of demonic and devilish activity on a map for them to use, hinting that she’d guessed Rachel wanted personal time with Jeanne, and the tribute of Hell’s minions was enough for her to give some slack.
While Rachel appreciated it, the efficiency of it all was counter to what she’d wanted; Gilles de Rais, Saint Bernard, the Knights Templar, Charlemagne’s twelve paladins, Raymond du Puy—his Knights Hospitaller—Paris’ streets were filled with men in suits of armor, collecting and sealing demons and devils for Elinnila to eat.
The succubus was thrilled at the idea; she actually didn’t want any of them to return to Hell and impune her reputation, which was everything in the Nine Circles; Elinnila was just lazy—something she had in common with Yseress—and didn’t like to do her own footwork.
Rachel could feel the saint’s bloodlust every time the devil took on the form of the innocent child, and she found it rather hilarious that both despised the transformation, yet the blonde was the one who had initially come up with it.
However, she could hardly believe the story Jeanne told as they moved throughout the city, sirens and curfews being called; the military was being called out to keep order as they had a new inquisition of sorts, rooting out every Hellish denizen or cult worshiper by the lingering Hell Force they carried.
Rachel kept them at a more leisurely pace, listening carefully to how the blonde used to be a part of an organization dedicated to rooting out corruption in their government as a teen. She had been young and impressionable to the passion of those within the organization, and it helped to set her life on the path it was, where she tried to live every day without telling a lie and following God’s will—to do good by her fellow man.
Unfortunately, the group soon began to take on more extreme views of anti-government propaganda, seeking more radical ideals in dealing with even suspects of corruption within the three branches of France’s political system.
Riva Paquet had taken over the leadership of their organization through rather ruthless dealings, seeking justice for, what she believed, was a targeted assault against her husband when he’d run for local government; the ‘fabricated’ scandals, hit-pieces, and harassment campaigns grew so bad that he had ‘purportedly’ taken his own life, which she refused to believe.
The blonde didn’t want to believe last year, Riva had been a part of a thwarted bombing of The Palais Bourbon when parliament was in session; all signs pointed to her involvement though, acting in the name of avenging her husband—she became the Legend of Jeanne de Clisson during The Oscillation, further drawing more disaffected Frenchmen to her name.
Her hatred had grown so bitter and obsessed that after the change, she became even more sure of government corruption with so many Legends and Myths having prominent positions within the system—including the Knights Templar Grandmasters—that she allied with Blackbeard, using his name to rally many pirate groups to her cause.
On the third week, they’d attacked the ports of Paris in a war-like fashion, attempting to purge France of all those she deemed corrupt; Jeanne had been there to stop her, refusing to join her cause, which the woman took as a personal attack—Jeanne was also the primary reason she was forced to retreat—and, amid their battle, an accident occurred that damaged Clisson’s left eye.
The marred Legend had renounced the name Jeanne after the battle and took the Lioness of Brittany—even though the UK denounced her—not wishing to be seen in the same light as the lioness saw it, another traitor.
It was the first clue Rachel had regarding Melissa’s younger sister and who might have obtained her reins or leash; she’d put the day team on it; Rachel wasn’t so sure about the Blackbeard connection, though—he wasn’t really about revolution—but using her to keep eyes off him seemed in his playbook from what Cahira explained of his personality.
As dawn drew near, Jeanne got another call from Charlemagne; he’d been appointed as special counsel to the President, and it didn’t appear like she was going to get off scot-free from some politicking, but if it was only meeting the famed Legendary Holy Emperor, then she could handle that.
Although Rachel’s eyebrows drew together as they finished cleaning up the final Hell cultists in Paris when the special appointee to the President mentioned another person who would be joining Jeanne and her.
“Solomon… from Israel; I haven’t heard he was in France even once since I arrived?” Rachel asked.
The blonde’s wrinkled nose said there was more to it than that, and Elinnila straightened at the news. “Wait, eh-heh… are we talking about the same Solomon here… enslaver of demons and devils—can I go now—I did everything you asked? Please? I’d rather not deal with holy sorcerers… paladin types are fine and all, but you never know when it comes to sorcerers. Madam Yseress?”
Rachel sighed. “She’s sleeping, and about your contract…”
“What?”
Elinnila held a hand against her neck, unveiling the collar to slide her fingers forward, spreading the lettering out in front of her to read. “Mhm… standard cruel practice—oof, I do not enjoy having my insides liquified by my own corrupted spirit… Huh.”
Her defocused brown irises fixated on one particular symbol. “No. No, no, no… What kind of impossible task did you bind me under, Mistress—I have to bring a higher spirit to Cerberus on the 3rd Circle Gate—I can’t even step foot in the 3rd Circle without an escort! I have no right to speak to the 3rd Gatekeeper, much less offer tribute, unless… acting under a higher authority.”
Rachel was more interested in Solomon, and just to test the waters, she asked the thought on her mind. “You wouldn’t happen to know if Solomon is connected to Twilight?”
The look on the blonde’s face told her all she needed to know.
Let the games begin.
Her eyes tightened when Elinnila’s pale, child-like face popped up in front of her, fear in her once again watering eyes; succubi didn’t seem to be good at dealing with being on the receiving end of manipulation.
“Please, Mistress—you can’t expect me to break the succubi pact under High Lady Lilith’s Law to take any one side—we are neutral agents—Mistress, please! She will destroy me for embarrassing her—rip me straight through the Nine Circles!”
“Mmgm!” Yseress yawned, exiting in her invisible veil to roll around her neck and smile at the girl as she fell on her face in desperation. “You’re so loud, Elinnila… It isn’t a big deal since I can do… this…”
Rachel’s lips parted in shock as the smirking nephilim’s hand plunged into the little girl’s chest, causing acidic blood to melt part of her dress and pool into holes in the ground; out of everything she expected from her inner devil, this was not it.
“The Hell are you doing, Yseress?”
“M-Mistress, my Core is…” the girl whimpered, trembling fingers around the woman’s wrist before Yseress crushed her heart; Elinnila’s body stiffened and fell limp.
“Rachel—what is happening—has she turned on you?!”
One of Yseress’ clawed, black fingernails caught the tip of Jeanne’s radiant spear, somehow reflecting the chains while manipulating the holy power to encircle the saint.
“Really? I am a purified nephilim,” she sighed, shaking her head and releasing Jeanne before shoving the pulsing spear back. “You’re doing more damage to Elinnila than anything to me—watch…”
The succubus’ hollow, open eyes and white face filled with color as the organs and hole in the brown-haired child’s chest began to mend, spewing more acidic blood to melt the cloth and stone beneath her.
“Huuuu!” she half-screamed, sitting straight up, eyes wild while grasping at her chest. “Y-You… removed… how?!”
Yseress huffed, rolling her eyes and looking bitter. “You don’t need to know ‘how,’ Elinnila… but I did. Explain to the idiots… I’m going back to bed.”
Black feathers obscured Yseress as she retreated, and Rachel could tell she was actually moderately drained by whatever she’d just done; Elinnila seemed too overwhelmed to even complete a full sentence, but eventually, she managed to compose herself.
“It… should be impossible, but… but Yseress has removed Lilith’s claw from my Core… Yseress isn’t that powerful—Lilith is comparable to her mistress… Lilith is the ruler of all succubi, yet… I am free from her service?”
A smirk spread across Rachel’s face as it all began to click. You embarrassed softy!
“Oh, shut up, Mistress! Her sniffling was insufferable… Can you tell why I hate being compared to such pathetic creatures who can’t stand a modicum of discomfort… The pampered harlots.”
You can’t admit you’re the Myth of Lilith, giving you access to her power or something akin to it to undo her bindings… Oooh, she is going to be after us. Does she know?
“Probably, but we need to contact Satan anyway if we’re going after Lucifer… they’ll want in, and this draws their attention.”
Laughing at how far the infamous nephilim had fallen from her apparently fearsome reputation in Hell, Rachel told Jeanne she’d explain on her way to meet the two Legends; in a way, Elinnila was going to be her companion for a while, which had both women groaning.
Rachel had to love how perfect Yseress was at finding the proper leverage to get people to do what she wanted while being totally oblivious to such innocent things as sweets. Her little inner devil was in an entangled identity crisis as she tried to reconcile her heavenly and infernal origins.
Elinnila’s acidic tears began to well up again, but not for the reason Rachel thought. “I went from inside a dragon’s mouth to being naked in the wasteland of Hell… I was safer in the dragon’s mouth! Mgmm-hmm-hmm… I’m so dead!”
-----------------
Comments
Dont_like_to_Talk
Thanks for the chapter
