Cooled Passions Chapter 75: Revelation

Chapter 75: Revelation

She hummed as she walked the light filled halls, the melodic sound reverberating and uplifting the spirits of all who were fortunate enough to hear it. The Seraph, the Hope and Wings of Heaven, God’s Messenger, was in an exceptionally good mood. She had just received news that her gambit had been successful and her plan could proceed.

The Throne that she had asked to take up the delicate task had already accepted, not that she doubted him for a second. Out of all her direct subordinates, he was the one that was most trustworthy and more importantly, well suited to this task.

Her wings shone with an inner radiance, the light dancing off the Heavenly Halls. Her plan was audacious and some would say foolhardy, but she had Faith in her Father, in the Divine Spark he had gifted all his creations. Such a thing could not truly ever be corrupted. Not fully.

Gabriel continued humming as she opened the door to her personal room, the sound abruptly dying when she beheld the surprise visitor that said room held. Looking out of her window at her garden, hands held behind his back, he spoke with a gentle, kind tone.

“I am glad that you are in such good spirits, Sister.” Michael expressed, still looking out and away from her, “Out of all the possible states to find you in upon your return, that is definitely a heartening one.”

“Brother.” She spoke, moving into the room and closing the door behind her, “I’m sorry for not informing you, but…”

“You do not need to report to me.” He denied her, voice still gentle, “I do not control your actions, I cannot dictate to you whether to follow your intuition or not. In fact, I trust it more than my own, most days... However. Hearing that you have visited the Sagan not from your own lips, but those of Serafall? I must admit, it was most dismaying.”

“Serafall spoke to you about it?” Gabriel was intensely surprised by that, “How would she know?”

“The Devils have yet to put forward their forces for the Ragnarök cooperation. They were intending to send a low level Peerage, you involving the Sagan has made their contributions significantly higher profile.” Michael explained, still as calm as ever.

“No Brother, I understand why she would go to you over this. I am confused by how she found out. The Sagan and the New Satans are not at all on speaking terms, Damocles himself would likely only have informed them of his decision when it was already too late for them to react.” She explained her confusion.

The most likely explanation was that there was spy by the side of the Sagan, one who had divided loyalties. Such a thing should be obvious to Damocles if that was the case however, meaning that the information reached Serafall because he wanted it to, otherwise he would have hidden it from the leak. Was this him posing a test? If so, to who?

“Much like you were intending to do to me?” Michael questioned, causing her to wince, “I trusted you with command over our involvement in the conflict to our north, because you are by far the most suited to warfare amongst all of us. I realise, I should have specified that I still intended to be informed of the major events, but I believed such a thing to not require such clarification.”

“I apologise for acting in a way to make you have such thoughts about me, Michael.” She pushed all her earnestness and honesty into her words, believing each one, “The reason I did not inform you yet was that I was waiting for confirmation from the Sagan on his involvement. Who I sent and our overarching strategy depends heavily on whether or not he will be present.”

Michael considered this for a moment, before sighing, tension releasing from his shoulders as his wings ruffled behind him, “I see. I trust you implicitly, even if you were intending to hide this from me I have faith that you had good reason. I merely wished to reassure myself. May I ask who you are going to offer to aid the operation now that the Sagan has stated he will attend?”

“I do indeed.” She beamed, glad that her Brother had such steadfast belief in her.

She told him who she was sending.

Michael frowned, his worry immediately resurfacing as he turned around fully, looking at her with naked concern, “I assumed that by using the Sagan, you would be able to reduce the force we needed to present so as to bolster our borders for the duration of the conflict. To send a Throne… I am worried about the implications.”

“The implications?” Gabriel was confused, she had picked a powerful angel, but not one at all suited for combat.

What conclusion was her brother reaching?

Michael considered her for a moment, weighing something heavily within his mind. Eventually, he started to explain.

“The True Longinus is no longer within the Holy System. It has been removed entirely.” He informed her, causing her eyes to widen, “The culprit is obvious, the Goddess Ranni. She destroyed one of Father’s greatest works, barely moments after she first set foot upon the world. Do you know that people are praying to her? I can feel them, when I sit the Throne. She doesn’t answer any of them. But I can feel too, that is not due to lack of ability.”

He looked outside once more, to the sky rather than the garden this time, “She can answer them. No matter how far away they are from her, or how weak their Faith. Her power reminds me of the Ancient Powers, before they receded. The one thing we know about her for certain, is her obsession with Damocles Sagan. With her protecting him, any actions against him are sure to be doomed to failure.”

“However.” His blue eyes found hers, serious radiating from him, “Even if he were to be lured from her embrace, even if a Throne was able to kill him, her obsession will also ensure a lack of restraint in her retaliation. The world might survive, but I am uncertain whether Heaven will. Even if we succeed in felling her, it will take too much of what we have, leaving us weak for the next conflict.”

Gabriel’s mouth fell open, finally realising what her brother was talking about, “You assume I wish to assassinate Damocles?!”

“Do you not?” He tilted his head in query.

“No! That is why I chose the Throne I did!” She waved her hands, heart pounding in surprise, “Raphael and I informed you, did we not? He is the descendant of Helel, of the Morningstar!”

“Yes. That is why I suspected that you wanted to eliminate him, before he awoke to his heritage.” Michael confirmed.

“No, well his heritage is why I am doing this, but it’s not to kill him!” She took in a deep breath, steadying herself, “This is not the way I wanted to discuss this with you Michael, not at all aligning with my design. I had hoped to do this properly.”

“I understand.” His tone was calming, conciliatory, “Speak your mind. I will listen.”

She considered how to bring up this topic, her carefully constructed arguments easily brought to the forefront of her mind. She decided to discard them and speak wholly from the heart, from sibling to sibling, trusting that her words and meaning would reach him.

“The Throne is killing you Michael.” She spoke, her feelings rushing out, “You are the best of us, but you were never meant to sit it for this long. It is taking more and more from you each day and it is becoming unbearable to see. Your light is dimming.”

“I know.” The simple statement floored her, striking her momentarily dumb, causing him to smile sadly, “It is my burden, one I accepted willingly and gladly. However, I am not blind. No, in fact, my problem is that I see far too much. When we are called upon to give of ourselves, all that we can offer is our best. I am painfully aware that my best is not good enough, not for this.”

Michael… Gabriel felt tears rise to her eyes, but she fought them down. Her brother was being so strong for all of them, carrying this burden with strength, she would be strong for him as well.

“I have given thought as to why that is, Brother. Ever since I… recovered, it was on my mind constantly. I was so preoccupied with my own issues, that when I was back, the difference in your vitality was stark to me, starker than it would be to others who experienced the change more gradually.” She explained, “I believe… I have Faith that I have discovered the reason.”

“Oh?’ His smile turned more genuine, her concern for him warming him, “I have some theories of my own, but I am interested in yours.”

“As I said before, you were never meant to sit the Throne. We know this. Helel was.” Michael flinched slightly at that, but nodded anyway, “I don’t say this to hurt you brother. Our Father gifted us each a piece of himself, gifts which defined us and expressed themselves in different ways. You his temperance, me his passion… Helel, his gift of Creation.”

Michael nodded, resigned, “Hence his being able to create the Devils.”

“Yes. But that also come with it the authority over His Creation. It is why the Devils could claim souls.” Gabriel explained, causing Michael’s face to light up in astonishment, his mind quickly reaching the conclusion of the argument.

“You think the Sagan can sit the Throne of Heaven.” His voice was weak, breathless, the sheer insanity of the idea daunting, “You wish to allow a Devil access to Father’s System?”

“I do.” She answered, resolute in her answer, “Not permanently. Devils are beings that are bound to their words, some more than others. Damocles has sinned, already so young, but he has yet to break his word. Father’s System without Him is flawed, Michael. It cannot continue like this, not forever. If we could convince Damocles to agree to a deal, to allow him to fix the System so that you can sit the Throne in full… It is a chance that can only be described as miraculous.”

“Such a plan would indeed need a Miracle to succeed…” Michael responded, shock fading, but still very much present.

“It is more likely than it sounds.” She was eager to explain, “His ostracisation from the Devils, the ability for us to guide the awakening of his powers personally-”

She was paused by the raised hand of her brother, whose face was stern and uncompromising.

“Gabriel. I said that you do not need to explain yourself to me. I hold to those words. Just answer me this one question, from all that you have considered and examined.” The question was cutting and uncompromising, demanding a proper answer, “Do you truly believe that this is the correct course of action? That this is worth doing?”

“I do.” Her resolve welled up, this plan having been something she had considered and resolved herself to some time ago.

Michael’s eyes left her own, to look at the brightly glowing wings behind her, then he nodded.

“Then I trust you.” The answer brought a true, gentle smile to her face.

---XXX---

The trick to propriety, she reflected, was implication.

It was something that Riser, the little upstart, seemed to know quite well. His line of sheer dresses, different from the lingerie he mostly offered, used this knowledge masterfully. When she had seen the piece, crafted lovingly with ancient Tsuchigumo silk, lined with fabric from Karakasa, was temptation in the form of clothing.

The best thing about it was that it was entirely chaste, showing nothing off that could be considered indecent. Her breasts were almost fully covered, her stomach was not bare, her shoulders were the most skin that showed when she was still in the dress, her legs only peeking out from the slits on the side when she was in motion.

The Dress itself hugged her figure tightly, moulded to her form as if it had been painted on. The silk that was its main component was transparent, but only partially. The dark materiel was soft and elastic, stretching over her curves and allowing any who had their eyes on her to see through to the succulent skin underneath it, but only if they looked closely. The invitation was only made harder to resist as this dress was so tight it made it impossible to wear undergarments with it. The Karakasa fabric did that function, blocking direct sight of her private parts.

A thin band acted as underwear, while some rather generous cup ensured that her cleavage was on full display without allowing anyone to so much as glimpse an inch of her breasts.

Overall, the effect was one of liquid sin, tempting the eyes to follow her body, to look closer and pierce the veil of the garment, only to fail to see what they wanted to the most.

It was her favourite piece that she had found since she awoke, being the weapon she had chosen for the coming engagement. Wearing this, she was sexy, irresistible.

She was distracting in all the right ways.

She was beautiful in a way that defied explanation.

She was prepared for the boy she was attempting to guide.

She was…

She was sitting on her bed, flipping a coin.

It was a trick she had figured out in the War with Heaven. Her power was that over luck, fortune and fate. However, there existed those that could overwhelm her ability, stripping her luck from her suddenly. She didn’t rely solely on it, of course, but being used to things effortlessly going your way, then that suddenly stopping, was annoying if she had not been prepared beforehand.

Thus, this trick. Ranni had chosen to restrict herself as the Goddess of the Moon and Night, both of which were incredibly powerful and linked with magic. She could tell, from experience, merely standing before the Goddess that she could smother her Fortune as easily as breathing. So, if she wanted to be lucky in this conversation, she needed to have in a moment that was most advantageous to her.

There were those that could stifle her Power when she was before them, but if she was just using it on herself, away from their notice? There was not much anyone could do to stop her. So, she immersed herself in her power, Fortune and Fate bending to her whims, flipping a coin. As she had been doing for the past 20 minutes. Meditation, patience… they were things that were difficult for her, but she could not afford to make any mistakes here.

Flip. Tails. Flip. Tails. Flip. Tails.

Flip. Heads.

She caught the coin, looked at the surface and grinned. Her power was finicky and difficult, but it had yet to steer her wrong, if this was what it thought was the best moment for her to go, then it would be.

She stood, her dress flowing around her as she did, her hips swaying seductively as she moved to the Gremory Teleport Circle. She had been working on Damocles for a while now, yet that Seraph thought she could just swoop in and ruin all her hard work? No, the world didn’t work that way.

She would not allow it.

---XXX---

The first member of the Sagan household she met was Naomi, the cute blonde maid fixing her with an unimpressed look, “You didn’t inform us that you would be visiting, Lady Gremory.”

“Yet, as always, there’s someone here to greet me. It’s creepy how you always do that, you know?” She pouted at the younger girl, “Also, didn’t I tell you to just call me Runey?”

To be honest, the Bishop freaked her out. The girl had an air of expectation around her, as if every move and action anyone did was unsurprising to her, as if she had seen it all before. For someone so young, the demeanour was uncanny. Runeas had tried multiple times to sneak into Sagan Manor, only for the Maid or one of the other Peerage members to be waiting for her when she arrive. It didn’t matter if she teleported or slipped past the outer wards, they were waiting for her.

The only thing she could suspect was a sort of detection ward that let them know whenever someone used the circle or approached the manor, but she couldn’t sense anything like that when she was there and she felt no beacon of any sort being placed on her.

It was just another thing that the Sagan did that was inexplicable. Gods were known for prophecy, maybe Ranni was the culprit? She didn’t like that explanation, as chalking everything the Sagan had accomplished up to the Goddess screamed itself as a mistake to her. The Sagan was capable, competent and dangerous. Underestimating him was folly.

“Damocles is in his study. Please follow me, Lady Gremory.” The Maid sighed, turning and guiding Runeas down the myriad halls of the Manor, the path familiar to her.

“You’re too uptight!” She whined, following after the reincarnated Devil, “You’re going to live a long time, you know? You should enjoy it!”

“I will enjoy it when we no longer have unannounced guests.” Came the curt reply.

“You know, I thought Damocles was a prude, having you dress in such a conservative maid uniform, instead of the fun frilly things I have seen. But know I think it was your preference, not his.” She poked and prodded absently, mind going through how to approach the coming conversation.

“I’m not desperate for attention. Dressing like a slut is useless for me.” Came the unexpectedly sharp response.

Runeas chuckled at that, shuffling in front of the Bishop and lifting her heavy breasts, waving them in the less endowed girls view, “Oh my, kitty has claws! You don’t have to be jealous you know, I can help you find something that would bring out your charms!”

“Thank you for the offer. I refuse.” She answered stiffly, reminding Runeas of her grandson’s frigid wife, before she spoke again, “We are here.”

“Thank you for the escort!” She chirped, waving at the maid as she knocked on the door in front of her.

“Come in.” The commanding voice called from inside the room, prompting Runes to open the door and walk into the office.

The Master of the house was standing beside his desk, hands held behind his back loosely as he looked out the window the view of the grounds of the Manor. In the distance, the massive form of Tiamat was visible, her multiple colours shining brightly as she lounged in the sunlight. Much like her, the Sagan was dressed up, wearing what she instantly recognised as a formal Kimono. Despite his Angelic features, the rather severe clothing fit him quite well.

“You caught me at an awkward time, Runeas.” He spoke, not even glancing at her reflection as she came to stand besides him, “I was just about to head out to meet with the Yokai.”

“Seems I arrived at the perfect time then, if you were going to be leaving the underworld.” She responded, grinning at him, “What do you think of my dress?”

His eyes flicked to her, quickly running up and down her form as she luxuriated in his gaze. It would have been nicer if he wasn’t so clinical about it, though.

“It becomes you.” Was his response.

It was rather short and perfunctory, but Runeas had been observing this young Devil for quite some time now. She knew that he was not nearly as unaffected by her beauty as he appeared. He made a point to not show even the slightest shred of weakness, which desire could be used as. It was part of how he constructed his image, unflappable and above the petty interests of others.

However, he was still a man, meaning that although he had admirable self control her appearance was enticing to him. Something that would be useful in this conversation.

“Why, thank you for the very short compliment.” Her smile turned Impish, causing him to sigh.

“Why are you here? Rias still has a training session next week, you could have visited then. It isn’t urgent, if you are dressed like that. So what do you want?” He asked.

“I have a ball that I was invited to later tonight.” It even had the benefit of being true, “Could I interest you in being my plus one?”

“No.” He answered, “I have a meeting that I cannot put off. One that you are currently keeping me from.”

“Always so serious. It’s not good for your health you know?” She questioned, before moving onto her goal here, “But, that is what I wanted to speak to you about. Rias’ training, or at least the reason for the stop.”

“Me going to assist in Ragnarök, yes.” He nodded.

“At the behest of Archangel Gabriel.” She added, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her.

“Now, how would you know that? I didn’t inform Rias of who requested my presence, it could have just as easily have been Michael.” He questioned.

She shrugged, “She requested it from the Satans first, that’s how I know. They thought it would be too big a gesture to send you, so they were planning on a lesser known Peerage.”

“I see.” His tone was neutral, returning to looking out of the window.

“Now what I find interesting, is what reason could Gabriel have to ask you specifically to leave the underworld? So I did some digging.” She delighted in his eyes returning to her, carefully controlled but she could sense his interest, “What I found leads me to believe it’s a trap. The Angels might want to lure you out and kill you.”

It was plausible even. Runeas didn’t think it really was the case, of course. She remembered Gabriel from the War, should she have decided Damocles deserved to die then she would have done the deed immediately or perished in the attempt.

“What reason could the Angels have to do so?” He asked, eyes still looking into hers, “My Ancestor might have conflicted with the Seraph, but every interaction I have had with her has been perfectly cordial.”

“While Remora’s actions have been forgiven, at least on the part of her descendants, it’s the other half of your Ancestry that is on interest.” Runeas activated her ability, subtly, letting her words flow naturally to end this conversation in the most favourable manner to her, “You see, all the Progenitors of the Clans bred with each other, due to the pool of Devils being rather sparse at the beginning. Remora, however, refused all intimate company. Violently, at times. There was only one who she felt any form of affection for.”

“Who would that have been?” Damocles questioned, eyes boring into her own.

“Well, she was always a daddy’s girl.” She giggled, causing him to frown.

“Speak plainly Runeas.” He growled, “This is a serious matter.”

“Fine, fine.” She waved. “You are right, I should just come out and tell you.”

She took in a deep breath, “You are a descendant of Lucifer, Damocles. That is why the Angels would want to kill you.”

His eyes looked into hers, narrowing at the news. She expected a bigger reaction, surprise even, but all it seemed to garner was consideration from the Sagan. She faltered, completely flat-footed by the unexpected lack of any surprise.

She could sense something, a thin thing in his being, but it was not something she could identify. His motionless concerned her, causing her unease to build. Did he already know? Why had he not said anything?

“Isn’t that surprising-?!” She never finished that sentence.

The world blurred. Her ears were ringing. She was completely disorientated. Why was she on her knees? When had she fallen over? Why was her Master looking at her with such rage and fury? Why was her hand cradling her cheek? Why were all the windows broken? Why was she so aroused?

Suddenly, sensation came flooding back to her and with it, cognition.

Damocles had struck her. The vicious backhand had hit with enough force to shatter the windows of the office. That by itself was surprising, but what had forced her to kneel, what was kneeing her head bowed as she gazed up at him, was his Aura.

The commanding presence of a Prince, amplified up to eleven. She had felt something like this before, when she had met Rizevim, but it was orders of magnitude more intense. She gathered her power to her, wondering why it wasn’t protecting her from the influence like it should have been, only to gape as she realised that it was completely empty. He had overwhelmed her entire reserves in seconds.

It was speaking to her at an instinctual level, her very nature as a Devil commanding her to submit to the one before her.

Still, she had her pride, as a Gremory. She tried to force her body to obey her, to rise from her supine position, only for the weight on her shoulders to magnify.

Damocles, angrier than she could ever remember him being, hissed out, “You lying, duplicitous whore.”