Nico Castigerion
I was an optimist in my life, all things considered. Striving to make the most of my moments, I enjoyed them and looked at life in a semi-positive outlook, only seldomly broken by a wave of melancholy or regret. But facing a terrifying maid with the expression of a monster while time around you was frozen still could turn anyone into a cynic.
Celeste was looking at me with empty eyes, as if unconscious or dead. Despite her outward appearance—she had a wry smile plastered on her face, sort of mocking in a way.
The woman was statuesque, taller than me in my previous life, yet she was still slender and gave off an air of refinement that would be elegant if not for her slouched position on the stool she sat on.
She wore the same uniform as Rosé who was currently frozen in time with the rest of the world around us. Her hair was a brown—oak like the door and floor of the house with chestnut irises like two acorns set in the stark white of her sclera.
"I take it then, that you are not the maid, Mistress Celeste"
My voice came out high, an stark reminder of my precarious situation. Seeming to sense my despair about my 'changes', the Not-Celeste laughed—a sound that would likely be more delicate but was now morphed gleeful.
"I am no mere servant of your house, my lord," she sneered her voice thick with contempt and laced with sarcasm curdling the air in my very lungs. "Indeed, my true station far dwarfs that of a lowly house maid."
The sense of despair and disgust from the presence of the maid had been muted down slightly, but I still had to hold in the retch from leaving my mouth. Whoever this was, they were truly wicked—someone that disturbed my very intuition by their mere existence.
Annoyed at their lack of information about themselves or why he was conversing with me, I spat out coldly. "So, if you aren't Celeste, then who and what the hell are you?"
Celeste's face mockingly contorted into a mask of theatrical shock—her eyes widening in sarcastic astound.
"I am quite aghast! Tell me, Alexander, does the peerage of humans now permit its sons to speak with the tongue of a common brawler? Your nobility seems like a ragged garment indeed."
My face hardened further. I was sick of this creature's ostentatious display and melodramatic exhibit. My voice came out sharper with an edge.
"Who are you?" I repeated.
Celeste's smile widened to a grin—casting a shadow of mockery in those chestnut eyes.
"Why keep you in the dark any longer? I suppose that there is no great harm in revealing my name, so I will pity your request and grant the answers you seek. My name is Aramon."
The anticlimactic reveal of his name startled me. It was as if this person was seriously expecting me to know who he was. How egotistical. My expression went from fear and aggression to confusion—then a blank expression.
"Is that all? Do you really expect me to recognize or understand anything about you based on your first name. For I can promise you that there are more famous bearers of that name than yourself."
Aramon snarled angrily, agitated about my not knowing who he is or why he's important.
"I shall deign to forgive your wretched ignorance but once, you miserable mongrel," he spat, his voice laced with venom.
"I am Aramon Marcorvius —Head of the Marcorvius Kinship, an Archdemon of the Pride Region, and..." He paused, a slow stillness settling over him savoring his next words. "...direct descendant of His Majesty, Lucifer Morningstar, the Demon King of Pride."
Horror crept up my back to my nape when I heard the name of the Prince of Hell himself. I didn't know who Aramon might be, but his connection to the big man downstairs promised immediate danger to me and likely this building. I did well in masking my unfeigned emotion however—the demon didn't sneer or laugh, instead putting heed on me with a steady gaze.
I put on a sardonic smile, looking at the demon as if I knew something he didn't. The plan was to agitate Aramon into revealing more information in pride or annoyance.
Moving to a stool unadorned by needles or linens, I sat, slowly and without rushing, causing a scowl from the demon standing in front of me.
"I crave your indulgence, Lord Marcorvius. Don't mind my ignorance of the matter; it is natural for someone, as ignorant as myself—to not know a lesser-known Kinship such as the Marcorvius Kin. I will be sure to study more thoroughly of the more unkenned kins in the future."
I was heavily crutching on the knowledge granted by the chatter of the demon, Aramon, and the knowledge of noble speak from the body of the child I was currently in. My plan seemed to be working, nevertheless as Aramon seemed to be displeased by the insult I had provoked towards his 'Kinship' which I could guess was his family.
"Since you are but a mortal posing to understand our kind, I will grant you clemency and overlook insolence once more and once more alone. My kin is among the respected in the Pride Dominion; normally such an affront would require me to duel you at the spot. However, Lord Morningstar wishes for you to be alive in the time being."
My smile turned lopsided. The fact that the demon lord would not only contact me but also wants me alive gave me an idea that I was both important in some way and useful to him. Given the fact that Aramon knew that my name was Alexander translated that Lucifer would know the same.
Whilst he knew my name, given our interchange he had a limit in his knowledge in some way. The best scenario was that he believed I was reincarnated from this world simply into my new body.
I couldn't deign to hope Lucifer had the same lapse in knowledge as the grand demon facing me, but there was still a small chance for better or for worse that that the demon lord—Morningstar had nothing to do with and no knowledge of the full effects of my transmigration.
"Aramon, I know your choice of words is quite verbose, so I might as well hold small talk and ask a few questions…"
Aramon's brow furrowed; lifeless eyes narrowed in annoyance and suspicion, as his scowl deepened. Before he could interject, however I continued speaking.
"…if it may not be too impertinent to ask, I would like to know how you are possessing the body of my maid."
The demonic noble's scowl faded slowly turning into a knowing smirk. He leaned back in his stool—somehow not falling despite the fact gravity seemed to work in this spell Aramon had cast.
"Would you not find it singularly fitting a demon possess their own progeny, mortal?"
Progeny. Celeste was descended to the wretch I was talking to? I couldn't be surprised given I had been in this world a mere hour, but even I didn't expect this maid to be a demon.
The fiend discerning the meaning of my lack of words erupted in a sharp laugh, mocking yet genuine.
"I would have expect a noble of your 'caliber' to believe a spy to be in your household. But alas human nobility is ever disappointing, your kinship—that is to say your house like you mortals so like to coin it is the perfect of examples."
I sighed tired of this demon's jests and jeers. "Then, if you truly are the blood of Celeste—why doesn't a demon such as her reside in hell or wherever unruly place your kind lives."
Aramon leaned back down staring at me with a calculating, scrutinizing gaze, the sudden and abrupt switch from his mirth to the clinical gaze was jarring to me. "
If you had a half breed daughter—one with devoid of any demon traits, would you not use her to gain entry an influential human house such as the Castigerions? I would expect more from you, Alexander."
Amongst my many questions, I had one shining in the forefront of my mind—a question I should have asked earlier but was shrouded in the crowd of my crammed brain.
"Why do you keep addressing me a 'Alexander'? I would expect someone seeing through the eyes of Celeste, my maid would know my name is Nico Castigerion—I have never been called Alexander in my life."
Aramon's smile returned brimming with merriment once again, as if in on a joke I couldn't understand. He paused looking me in the eyes deciding how much to share before his mouth opened once more.
"It is indeed true you are addressed only as Nicholas in this life, Alexander; however, I am not talking about this life, and you know that quite well."
That confirmed it. He knew about my other life, though what or where he had got the information was a mystery. Rather actually where Lucifer gained the information. Despite the fact that the demon was clearly strong, I doubted Aramon had the ability to see out of this universe to mine—the culprit was likely the king of hell himself.
"It would be great if you were to tell me how you have come by the information of my 'other life' as you claim it, Aramon. I am quite sure you did not come to the revelation yourself—rather I happen to think that it was your lord, Lucifer."
A foul taste went into my tongue as I uttered the demon lord's name. The tang was filled with the general representation of a horrid taste, as if a dirty sock, mud, pineapple pizza, and every other horrible taste mixed in my mouth.
My mouth scrunched up in disgust and Aramon let out a hearty chuckle.
"Mind your speech, especially the names you say, mongrel. Mortal throats fare poorly while uttering the true names of any demon king, your frames are simply ill-fashioned after all."
"I care not of your lord, nor for his vanity regarding his name upon my tongue and lips, and I certainly won't 'mind my speech' for a vile cur such as yourself, Marcorvius."
My bold words were met with wrath. The room's atmosphere grew cold and tense as Celeste's face morphed into anger and disappointment for a small moment before melting into a mask of uncaring.
"You have exhausted the last of my patience, Alexander. That was your third and final mercy I have generously granted you—yet you still chose to spit upon my hand, not only scorning my name, but my king as well."
I flinched back expecting a strike, my face flashing with fear. Before I could utter a word—an apology or a desperate explanation, a single finger rose from the hand of Aramon.
"React, if you are able."
Aramon flicked the finger of Celeste in a sharp fluid motion that created a small 'whoosh' from the air around him. Space itself seemed to warp slightly around his finger causing an illusion of a fold in the fabric of reality.
Something flew at my face at a speed I couldn't even comprehend, as if space itself was lurching forward to cut me down. The small slash of not-space came at my left cheek, rending the flesh like a saw through wood. I winced in pain as the spell came to its conclusion—my cheek burning with pain. My hand instinctively rose to my face feeling the warm sensation of blood droplets. I brought my hands up to my eyes, but surprisingly there was not much blood, perhaps as much as a bad papercut or a shallow cut with a knife.
Seeing the flowing water lit a spark of confusion in my brain as I took in the world around me. Where I had once assumed time had been paused completely, I now saw it in a new light. It was more like me and Aramon were in a pocket in space where time didn't flow rather than time itself stopping. Strangely while everything looked and acted frozen—anything touched by us could temporarily regain temporality and move once more.
I thought of touching Rosé but reconsidered after some thought. Aramon has likely used his mysterious power to alter the world for a reason, if I touched the maid, it would give him a reason to kill her.
My pondering on his magical abilities was halted when Aramon continued his speech once again, his anger turning to a slight miff.
"Watch your tongue human, before I rip it out. Even in this weaker vessel I could still wipe you out—and this city with it."
I sighed, feigning composure despite the previous evidence to the contrary. I stepped off my stool, plunging it back in its temporal stasis and walked towards the demon stopping right in front of him. This situation had turned dire enough to warrant me to plunge all my self-respect down the drain.
I brought my upper body down going nearly at a ninety-degree angle as a sign of respect. My shin quivered as a completed the bow to the demon.
"I apologize for my disrespect to you and your kin, Lord Marcorvius."
Aramon frowned at the apology.
"An apology, and so soon? I should have been much more pleased had you continued your provocations rather than bow at such ease, however cowardice is expected given your present… condition."
Readying for more information to flow—I stored all my current thoughts in the back current of my mind and focused on Aramons next words.
"I would assume for the both of us that this conversation is over. I would say it is a pleasure to meet you, and whilst you seem to have your reservations, I bear no ill-will to you."
Obviously, I have my reservations; you tried to kill me. Deciding against saying that out loud, I looked back at the demon. Aramon looked right at me once more before standing back up, towering over me once again. He stretched Celestes body before sighing.
"Then, allow me to grant you a farewell gift before our parting, Lord Nico; I consider it a debt of honor after the damage I have wrought upon you."
Before I had the opportunity to object, the hand of Celeste shot up, a glow of red in her hands and striking my chest. However, unlike a normal strike from a demon which would fold me in two, this one was unlike any sensation had left. The best sensation was tendrils of power reaching through my body pushing and prodding as it was doing my soul. Those tendrils seemed to find their mark and implanted something deep inside my body and soul alike. The hand of Celeste retreated, and I looked down at my chest feeling the same.
"What was tha—"
My words were forcibly stopped as a sharp throbbing pain exploded out from my chest, reaching my mind as well as my physical form. I doubled over the pain radiating from inside my chest siphoning my very life force. This 'gift' was more like a fucking blight. Red motes once again overtook my eyes, though seemingly burned into my retina unlike the moving motes in my previous life's final headaches.
I closed my eyes focusing inward on myself. The motes dimmed slightly as my mind saw not into my thoughts, but my very spirit. The waves of pain and whatever the gift was created a focal point in my mind allowing me to view my soul, something impossible otherwise. What I saw was awe inspiring and terrifying. My soul was as pure as snow flowing in shapes I couldn't comprehend.
Nodes of… something connected the energy powering my soul and by focusing on some of the nodes—I could see my thoughts and mind creating a paradox of me endlessly seeing myself watching myself. A pressure in my head caused me to recoil from the view, my brain trying to protect its sanity.
Looking away from the endless nodes, blooms and nexuses of my soul, I focused in on the point of radiating energy. It looked like a red orb, no more like a seed fresh and newly planted It was unstable however siphoning my soul. Some of the nodes were already blinking in and out of existence, energy being consumed by this seed-egg.
A sense of panic flew into me in my realization that this seed would consume my soul. The link between us clearly wasn't complete, causing it to draw through the full range of my soul rather than a small portion at a time.
Focusing more I realized something, the soul around me reacted to my whims and ideas, though it was fighting against the pull of the seed.
I used my mind to grasp onto the white energy of my soul, the tension on my head returned stronger, when I tried to pull the energy. The soul was slowly pulling away from the seed, I was close—so close. I could starve the seed from soul and watch it shrivel up and die. I faintly heard a piercing scream from my body as a wave of pain went through my mind. The seed had wrenched the soul from my grasp, I barely held control, but it was causing waves of pain through me.
Sending more force into my soul, I pulled back the pain in my head become too much to handle, I could distantly feel a spasm to my body. The seed tugged back and the pain enveloped my brain as I passed out.
——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Pain. I woke to pain and red. The seed was still consuming my soul at an alarming rate; I must have only lost consciousness for a few moments however the rapid consumption of my soul woke me.
I recalled what happened directly before I passed out. Attempting to force the soul to move on my own accord caused intense pain to my mind and body, thus brute force is in inefficient and painful.
Half-formed ideas circulated my mind to a solution to the issue. How do I stop my soul from being absorbed by a magical seed. I had the ability to control and circulate the flow of my very soul; however, the seed was creating a tugging force that was ripping my mind and soul to shreds. My mind had a distinct connection to my soul—allowing my thoughts to sway its movement.
With that in mind, how can that help me fix the issue at hand. Thinking back in my life, I stumbled upon the answer, one that made zero sense in a normal setting, but given I was about to die any idea was a good idea. I yelled, well more mentally but physically but it had the same effect.
"I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE A CONTRACT WITH YOU!"
The seed pulsated as if in response to my shout. The red tendrils of the seed latched onto my view of the soul and dragged me into its clutches. My spirit body in my soul was lurched into the seed and the atmosphere changed completely.
After the jarring tug ended, I ended up in nothing, genuine nothing. The sea of darkness was suffocating—it was pure reflectionless black spanning on and beyond my view. My brain went into a panic at the void around me. Had I truly died?
A voice rang out from the abyss, less like a voice of language and more of a voice of pure complex emotion and will. I felt a wide array of them: relief, hunger, confusion, panic, intrigue, security, wonder, worry—my head ached from all of the raw emotion flooding my mind from the seed.
The being, seemingly understanding, I was having a hard time comprehending the raw emotion let out a burst of concentration
Hello? Hello? Nico—no Alexander, what? Is it like you're living two lives? Who are you, Nico or Alexander?
The voice came from both the darkness and my head which made sense because the darkness was my mind and yet it also physically existed. Focusing away from the second paradox, I focused on the message of the voice itself.
The attempt at communicating from the being seemed to be successful, or at least partially. The voice in my mind was similar to that of a young girl maybe five, however it carried an intelligence that was startling.
I tried to speak but I had no way to, even in my incorporeal form watching the seed I simply willed my speech through my soul, but inside the seed itself there was no soul to create voice. I focused not on vocal cords, but on my pure emotion—turning it from its raw state to a more cohesive pseudo-language.
I suppose I'm both Alexander and Nico but given this life it would be greatly appreciated to be referred to as Nico. If I may ask, how do you know who I am.
The voice paused in thought, like they were contemplating the answer themselves. After a beat, I felt the words come into my head.
From what I can piece together, when the demon Aramon, my father I would guess implanted my egg into your soul, I was able to draw from your memories—which is why I can speak despite likely being less that a few months old and not technically born and is also the reason why I know so much about you.
I was about to continue with questions getting to know the what…? Demon? But a sharp and consistent pain in my consciousness shot me back at the present and the problem at hand.
So, Miss… Marcorvius you must have heard my plea to make a contract, don't you want to know the contents of it?
I expected to be met with either dismissal or the better answer, an agreement to be made and my soul to be saved from its rapid degrading. However, the voice came back with a sharp emotion of humor and mirth, a sort of mental giggle.
Well, Nico did you forget that I'm in your head; I can see everything you're thinking in real time, drawing from your soul, mind and vitality makes hiding anything impossible.
Yes, the vitality part is the issue, idiot. I kind of don't want to die, genius. I was thinking how to speed this conversation—while my feeling of my soul and body was faint at best, I could envision the nodes of my mind flickering out.
No need to be hostile, after all I have all your memories we are practically the same person with different souls.
Great so now I have to worry about becoming three people rather than only one person.
If you want to make a contract, then you're in luck. It seems being a demon of some sort allows me to retain the knowledge of contracting in some way.
A pulse of insight of the matter came flooding to me into my head causing a minor migraine. I could innately feel the name of the contract. A familiar contract? I knew familiars were usually a sort of magical companion in more pieces of fiction—by that assumption this contract would contract the demon to become my familiar.
Looking more into the contract, I saw the full scope of what I was agreeing to; The first clause, upon the agreement of the contract, a proper channel in which your soul will flow through in small increments will be formed. This will only siphon the pure soul energy and will not interfere with the nodes or cores in your soul. This clause will be in effect until secondary party Miss. Marcorvius is able to gain a physical body capable of supplying her with energy without interference from any foreign parties.
Second clause, as this is based on the Master-Servant contract with a lesser demon, the primary party known as Nico Castigerion, will become the master of the secondary party known as Miss. Marcorvius. This mastership will allow clause Nico Castigerion to command and use Miss. Marcorvius in any way he wishes that does not directly cause death.
Third clause, a state of Mental-Duality, shall be established. The secondary party, Miss Marcorvius, is obligated to act as a mental shield; should the primary party's mind be put in trauma that exceeds his current capacity to handle, the secondary party must take a majority of said mental Trauma to her consciousness. However, it is understood that the death of the primary party constitutes an immediate and total breach of contract, terminating secondary party alongside the primary party rather than being returned to the Marcorvius Kin—a consequence both parties must avoid at all costs.
Fourth clause, in any case in which the mental state of primary party, Nico Castigerion deteriorates to a point beyond the bounds of Mental-Duality, the parties in the second clause in this contract will be flipped making the secondary party master and primary party servant until the state of deterioration is within the bounds of Mental-Duality once more. In the case that the mental state of the primary party reaches this low, the secondary party focus purely on fixing the mental state of the primary party.
Fifth clause, A pact of absolute confidentiality is hereby enacted, neither party shall, through speech, writing, spiritual projection, or any other form of communication, divulge the nature of this contract, neither the presence of the second party, nor the primary party's status as a transmigrated soul to any foreign party outside the contract. This includes but is not limited to Archdemon Aramon, the Lady of House Castigerion, or any divine or infernal entities. Any attempt to bypass this clause will trigger the termination of the offending party's soul permanently.
My mind rattled as all the information came into my brain and was processed as once; like, I had listened to all the knowledge in a second, and also like I already knew the information before I read it.
This reads less like a fantasy contract with a demon, and more like a document for a plea deal. Are you sure you're a demon and not just a lawyer from a local county here?
I felt a deep sigh from inside my mind that was not my own.
Being a demon and attorney aren't mutually exclusive, Nico. Wait? That's not confirmation that I am a lawyer—well I might as well be given your past memories, in fact that's the reason why the contract is more like Terms of Service rather than a demon contact.
Before I could formulate a new thought, the demon continued her talk once more.
Alexander. This is the only contract I will accept. I won't argue with you about the clauses of the agreement I have given you, nor will I try to make sure you don't find any loopholes. However, I want you to understand that the contract I'm offering you benefits you far more than me. Think of that before you chose to accept or deny.
I wanted to argue the point, I wasn't even fully happy with the clauses of this contract, but I winced as a new wave of pain flew through me. Stars of white clouded my vision as part of my thoughts slowed before ceasing for a short moment. After my mind came back to its normal state I shook, well metaphorically shook given I had no connection to body.
So, how do I complete this contract; I don't have much time before your tendrils consume my entire soul and mind with it so it should be quick. Do I need a silver pen or some of my blood.
I just need to set it up with some magic. I can't really explain the finer workings, as it's more instinct than something that can be explained or even understood unless you knew it at first. I doubt even if sent you the raw thought you would understand it.
I felt a request for the very contract I had read. It felt as if someone was prodding at my mind, cramming papers and documents in it with big bold red letters that said 'sign' on it.
I accept as the primary party, Nico Castigerion. And you are...?
I'll choose a name later. For now, just hold on.
White and red energy collided, spinning into a vortex like being trapped inside a centrifuge. The raw—rough hunger of the seed calmed down, becoming a warm hum that settled directly behind my ribs and deeper into my soul. The splitting mind vanished instantly, replaced with crystalline clarity. The nodes once dimming, shown with their full blinding light.
Then the world rushed back.
I gasped, feeling the cold air of the linen air once more. The feeling in my body was a welcome surprise. All my pain had vanished as quickly as turning of a light switch. Looking up I saw the still frozen body of Rosé, still in the same position as I left her.
Aramon—still wearing the skin of Celeste—was gazing at me his eyes, his stolen eyes focused on mine. Celeste's chestnut eyes widened in the first genuine emotion the demon of pride had shown other than ego or anger crossing his stolen face.
"You… You survived?"
I looked at him, my attempted mask on my emotions failing to hide my contempt for the damned demon. He had been nothing but trouble in the mere minutes I had known him.
"In case you actually care, I did survive—though not due to any effort on your part of course. What manner of gift was that intended to be, wretch? Do you truly desire my death so passionately. Not only that, but how many daughters do you have, profligate?"
I stood back up going to the same position I was in before my encounter with Aramon began. I wiped the remaining blood from my cheek, which was still wet. Aramon frowned, he was about to say more but seemed to think better of it. He went back to his stool which caused me to realize he had left it to check on me. Then slowly he began to laugh. It wasn't mocking like before; it was like a child finding a new toy.
"Lucifer was right about your character," Aramon said stepping back and smoothing the apron of Celeste. "You are a most singular enigma. Perhaps the race of man won't be as insipid as I feared. Adieu, Alexander."
His finger snapped and time continued forth.
A loud screech pierced the air, and Celeste toppled over.