Chapter XX: Falaguerra's Origin

"The person who founded our family was also the first Emperor of this Empire," Vincentius disclosed solemnly. Medea arched a brow with intrigue, her interest piqued as she listened intently. "He was regarded as one of those closest to the divine, blessed with its favor. The divine elevated him as the first sun of our Empire, entrusting him with its future, hoping he would lead it to greatness. But unforeseen events changed everything," he paused, his gaze fixated on the painting depicting a man adorned in royal garb. Medea followed his gaze, deducing that this figure must be the individual her brother spoke of.After a brief silence, Vincentius continued, his voice tinged with gravity. "He committed a grave sin that angered the divine. So when great chaos ensued, the divine punished the Emperor by making him face the consequences alone."Medea's curiosity deepened, and she couldn't help but ask, "A sin so great that even the divine could not forgive? Did he bite a forbidden fruit or something?"Vincentius shook his head, uncertainty flickering across his features. "It was never explicitly stated to me. All I know is that everything from that era, including this tale, is chronicled in the Book of Revelation," he revealed. Unconsciously, Medea mused to herself, That book again? Now I understand its significance.Vincentius returned his gaze to the painting, his expression contemplative as he continued, "Since then, even after the Emperor's passing, the divine continued to view his descendants with suspicion, believing they too bore the stain of their ancestor's original sin.""The divine chose to anoint another Emperor in response," Vincentius continued, his voice carrying a weight of solemnity and regret. "That marked the beginning of change within our Empire. The most troubling aspect, however, is that our subsequent ancestors, who took leadership of our family, instead of redeeming the cursed legacy left by our founder, worsened it. They committed atrocities, using the blood of countless innocents to enrich our family, unwittingly staining it with unforgivable sins that would burden their descendants. It sickened me to learn this truth from our father, who also engaged in unsavory dealings for money and power. It made me contemplate how I could atone for these sins once I became the Duke," he confessed, his gaze intense as he turned to face Medea."I aim to cleanse our family's name and transform our legacy," Vincentius declared resolutely. "I want to prove to the divine that their judgment was not entirely misplaced."Medea found her brother's determination intriguing yet lacking in foresight. She understood now, more than ever, the dark history that plagued their family. He can atone for it, Medea thought. But the flaw of their lineage seemed intrinsic, a stain that couldn't simply be washed away. What the Emperor had initiated, she realized, couldn't be purged; instead, it seemed destined to recur.Perhaps the original disobedience to the divine had branded their ancestor a sinner, passing down that same original sin to his descendants. It could explain why subsequent heads of the family had perpetuated similar sins.She contemplated the weight of this family's past and the challenges that lay ahead. The notion of cleansing their legacy felt daunting as if fighting against an inevitable tide of fate.Medea stood with crossed arms, her expression nonchalant as thoughts swirled in her mind. I couldn't care less. This isn't my real family anyway, she thought dismissively. Despite her apparent detachment from the situation, however..."If you intend to change our family, then do it yourself. Don't burden me with the responsibility as if I'm destined to become the next head," she reluctantly voiced her opinion. Though the idea of offering comfort to a human repulsed her, she felt compelled to spur him on with her words. Perhaps her devilish nature recoiled at the notion of becoming a catalyst for others' salvation and redemption, especially if it meant assuming a role she detested.Medea continued, her tone firm, "If your plan is to make me your successor, I reject it now. It's not my dream, not my desire, nor something I aspire to be. I have no intention of dealing with problems that seem insurmountable."Vincentius's vermilion eyes widened in response to his little sister's blunt declaration. Despite his surprise, he didn't feel disappointed; deep down, he knew she spoke the truth. Instead, he smiled warmly and let out a small chuckle. "You are certainly wise, Medi."Her smirk widened momentarily as she closed her eyes in a brief moment of self-assurance. "Indeed. I intend to become someone of significance, someone knowledgeable—a mage," she declared proudly, her red eyes gleaming with determination as she looked at her brother.Vincentius blinked, momentarily taken aback by her proclamation. "A mage?" he echoed, a hint of disbelief in his voice. Medea observed his reaction, raising an eyebrow at his surprise. "Yes, why not? Is that so hard to believe?" she retorted, her tone challenging.Her brother pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture of mild exasperation. "Honestly, I hadn't anticipated this. I assumed you still harbored dreams of becoming the crown prince's wife," he admitted, his words tinged with a touch of regret.Medea rolled her eyes dismissively. "I no longer care about him, dear brother. He has found someone else, and I've chosen to let go completely," she replied bluntly, emphasizing her resolve to move on.Vincentius smiled warmly at her response, nodding approvingly. "That's good to hear. I'm glad you've made that decision," he said gently, genuine satisfaction coloring his voice.Medea turned her gaze towards the paintings adorning the walls, her expression becoming serious. "For some, falling in love may seem like the most beautiful experience," she began thoughtfully. Memories of the past then flashed through her mind like shadows in the light—scenes of the real Medea and Frederick strolling peacefully through gardens adorned with vibrant flowers, bathed in sunlight, their presence a portrait of an ideal couple untouched by discord. The devil, typically devoid of emotions, now finds herself in a unique situation. Occupying the body of a woman who was deeply in love, she continuously explores the memories of her host. "But it can also be shallow," she continued, her expression hardening slightly. The vision shifted to a more somber scene—Frederick standing before the real Medea, who knelt before him. It was a moment frozen in time, likely the painful conclusion of their engagement. Witnessing how this woman gazes longingly at passing moments slipping away, she also observes the man grappling with the weight of a fate imposed upon him, one he never sought."Just because you feel deeply doesn't mean your emotions will always be reciprocated in the way you hope," Medea concluded, her words tinged with a hint of bitterness as she reflected on the complexities of love and its consequences.Vincentius listened quietly, absorbing her words and the emotions behind them. He understood the depth of her disillusionment with love, recognizing that Medea's path diverged sharply from the romantic ideals others might hold dear."Very well," Vincentius conceded, his tone thoughtful. "But I do have a question." Medea turned to face him, her brows knitted in curiosity. "What do you think about that magician?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. She frowned, sensing the underlying implication in his question. "What about him?" she retorted, a hint of distaste coloring her voice.Vincentius, however, gave her a knowing smile, a teasing glint in his eye. "He seems quite interested in you, Medi," he remarked, his tone light and playful.Medea furrowed her brows further, scoffing in disbelief. "Nonsense. That man only wants the book. He's not one to indulge in trivial things like romance," she explained dismissively, turning her gaze away in irritation.Despite her response, Vincentius remained persistent. He leaned in slightly, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Then why did I hear from your maids that he visited you last night?" he prodded, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing.Medea's eyes widened slightly at the mention of the visit, but she quickly regained her composure. "He came for a discussion about arcane matters," she replied coolly, though the slight edge in her voice betrayed her annoyance. "It was purely professional."Vincentius chuckled softly, clearly not convinced. "Oh, I'm sure it was," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But you must admit, it's unusual for a magician of his caliber to make personal visits."She sighed, realizing that her brother wouldn't let the matter drop so easily. "He is eccentric, I grant you that," she admitted reluctantly. "The Book of Revelation holds secrets that could change everything. That's all he is interested in."Her brother raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the exchange. "And you, Medi? Are you only interested in the book as well?"Medea met his gaze with a steely resolve. "I have no time for distractions. My focus is on becoming a mage. Nothing more, nothing less."Yeah, that's all. That really is.The man smiled, satisfied for the moment. "Very well," he said, turning his gaze back to the paintings. "Just remember, even the most logical of men can be swayed by matters of the heart."Medea rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Let's hope he remains logical then," she muttered, more to herself than to her brother.As she turned to leave, Vincentius called after her, "Hm... I must say that even the most focused of minds can sometimes be swayed by unexpected emotions."Medea paused for a moment, considering his words, before continuing on her way. She had no intention of letting anything distract her from her goals, especially not the enigmatic magician who seemed to be causing such a stir.As the day drew to a close, Medea remained ensconced in her office chamber, tirelessly penning a letter of rejection to yet another noble's tea party invitation. With a resigned sigh, she set down her pen and leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling. "I would love to set all these invitations ablaze, but if I did, people would just spread rumors about me being indifferent. I don't want to deal with their nonsensical gossip," she muttered under her breath, irritation evident in her voice.Medea lifted her right hand, attempting to summon her powers. A reddish light flickered to life in her palm, but before a minute had passed, it dissipated, leaving her feeling more frustrated than before. She huffed, crossing her arms in annoyance. "I need to get in touch with Cael as soon as possible. But first, I must figure out how to handle that obstinate and infuriating prince. He's the type who changes his mind on a whim and could easily reject my offer. I won't let that happen."She tapped her fingers on the armrest, contemplating her next move. "I need a strategy that leaves him no room to back out. Something that aligns his interests with mine, or perhaps something that leaves him no choice but to comply," she thought aloud. The flickering candlelight in her chamber cast long shadows on the walls, mirroring the complexities of her thoughts.He must see that rejecting my offer would be a grave mistake.The flickering candlight in her office cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the somber ambiance. Medea's mind raced with strategies and counterstrategies. She knew Frederick's tendencies well—his vacillations, his insecurities, his unpredictable nature. Convincing him to accept her plan would require not just logic but a careful manipulation of his emotions and fears.Afterwards, she glanced at the pile of invitations on her desk, feeling the weight of societal expectations pressing down on her. Each invitation represented another opportunity to play the game of politics, a game she was all too familiar with but had grown weary of. "I won't let sentimentality or fear dictate my actions either. If they all proves to be a hindrance, I'll find another way to secure what I need," she declared to the empty room, her voice firm.Medea knew that the path ahead was fraught with challenges, but she was resolute. "I will not let anything or anyone stand in my way," she vowed silently, slightly gripping the armrest of her chair.Success required not just power but also cunning and perseverance. And The Devil was nothing if not persistent.