Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Before we start the chapter, here's a look at Marchioness Marchosias as drawn by @FacelessChick on Twitter.

Marie’s left eye twitched, and she fought the urge to touch her banged wound. The marchioness swore she could feel it bleeding through the gauze.

The Ars Goetia had almost forgotten how being cut with holy metal felt until Tisiphone had surprised her with her whip and damn near slashed the she-wolf’s eye out with it. It would leave a scar too, as if she didn’t have enough of those. At least they had spared her the cone.

Thankfully that battle was finally over now. It had been long and she had lost many good men, but the furies had been dealt with and Hell could start rebuilding again. The Marchioness was sure King Paimon was already happily declaring a celebration in his many castles as if he had just remarried for the 100th time. All that remained now, was to pick out the remaining loyalists and ensure the Furies had no other secrets in store.

Like now, they had found one of the lairs where Tisiphone and her sisters would hide out, between their massacres and battles. It was a quaint, small house on the far outskirts of Pride, near the homes of the local imps. It was so impoverished and neglected, even by imp standards, most royals avoided it as if the Black Death had consumed all the townsfolk. By all means, the perfect hiding place when one was trying to avoid the attention of the upper class.

“Hey guys check it out! I think I found the bitches’ underwear drawer! There’s so many thongs here!”

Marchosias rolled her eyes at the reaper’s immaturity, only to regret it as she seethed in pain from her still-healing wound. She would’ve preferred investigating the scene with her guards or even legionnaires, but after all that had happened, Satan had insisted she be accompanied by his best. And if this was his best, it was no secret why his court was an utter joke.

The marchioness ignored the more perverted members of Satan’s reapers, as she investigated what looked to be a utility room. Though one rarely used considering the lack of a clothes rack, and the heavy layer of dust covering most of the room, including the washing machine. Marchosias would’ve dismissed the room, had she not noticed something odd about the machine.

While it was still covered in dust, it was not as thick or prominent as the rest of the room. Some of the side was free of it, around where one might have grabbed the washer to move it. The marchioness investigated further, carefully moving the machine to the side, where she found that it hadn’t even been plugged in. There didn’t even seem to be a socket nearby. What there was instead, was what looked to be a hidden door.

“I’ve found something! Appears to be a hidden door! I’m going in to investigate,” she announced to the reapers before she cleared the path to the mysterious door. Carefully, she opened it, the other hand reaching for her sword, bracing herself for a potential ambush or a boobytrap. Thankfully, nothing quite as drastic occurred.

She peaked inside, expecting anything from schematics to potential attack sites, a stash of holy weaponry, more of the Furies’ mad loyalists and even some horrific torture chamber. None of those could’ve prepared her for what she got.

It was a room. A crude rather barebones approximation, but a decent one still. It had a small mattress with a blanket and pillows, a simple dresser with a mirror, a hairbrush, a few books and even a couple of toys scattered around. Wait, toys? What would Furies want with toys? Marie also noticed some of the books seemed to be made for children; picture books, myths and the like. And the mattress hardly looked like it was suited for an adult. More like a-

“Mama?”

Marie’s heart sank when she heard the soft, whisper-like voice behind the dresser. Without as much as a sound, she watched as a small, scared little thing emerged from behind the dresser. She didn’t look older than 5, and she was so tiny one could scarcely believe she was a fury. Her skin was green but a light, pleasant shade, her little wings looked more like a cape, her tiny horns were that of a cartoon devil and even the snakes on her head had such small, baby-like eyes, like they had just hatched out of their eggs. Other than that, the child looked like the spitting image of a younger Tisiphone. “Is that you mama? You were gone for so long I-”

The poor thing lost her voice, once she saw Marchosias standing there. She let out a loud frightened gasp, her golden pupils shrinking to the size of peas. Before the marchioness could respond, the child ducked behind the dresser, as she began to whimper and shake in fear.

Carefully Marie stepped towards the child, completely unprepared to deal with something like this. The winged wolf did her best to look non-threatening, but the small child still scattered back once she saw her. “No, no no no, stay away. STAY AWAY! Don’t hurt me!” she cried loudly, as terrified tears began welling up.

“It’s okay, it’s alright, we’re not going to harm you. Honest,” Marie tried her best to reassure the frightened child, speaking gently as she crouched down to her level. The young child seemed still afraid of her, scurrying to the corner and refusing to budge. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. You don’t have to be afraid.” They remained there for several seconds, before the child slowly snuck a glance at the marchioness, Marie giving her a small smile hoping it would ease. It seemed to work, as slowly the child began to creep from the dresser.

“Do you have a name?” Marie asked softly, offering the frightened child a friendly hand.

“T-Tilphousia. Mama calls me Tilly…”

“Oh shit! There really is a kid in here. Holy crap, what were these fuckers up to?” The moment was shattered, as the reapers finally arrived on the scene. “Oh, it’s just another damn fury. Don’t worry I’ll take care of it.”

The reaper summoned a crossbow, which they aimed right at the young girl’s heart. The young child had just enough time to cry out in fear, attempting to hide from the bolt with her wings, as the cloaked demon fired. But Marchosias was faster, rushing towards the reaper and shoving his bow away causing him to miss. The winged demon looked at the cloaked demon with a burning anger, her eyes glowing like suns.

“What are you doing? She is a child!” She demanded from the demon, a small burst of blue flame spewing from her mouth as she glared the reaper down.

“Satan’s orders were to kill any stragglers should we find ‘em. And I think that little monster counts,” one of the others reminded her, pointing towards the young fury, still a bit shaken by her near death.

That only made Marchosias more furious, disgusted but not surprised the Sin of Wrath would demand something that extreme. “Fuck Satan’s orders, I won’t let you lay a bloody hand on a child!”

The reapers were genuinely baffled by this, one of them asking: “Wait, you’re serious? That thing is fucking fury! Give her a decade or two, she’ll be no better than her psycho mum.” At the mention of the furies, the young girl flinched with recognition, seemingly confirming that she was one of their children.

Marchosias refused to budge, showing the reaper back. “I am in charge of this operation, and I am ordering you to keep your damned hands off of her!” She raised her wings and pulled her sword halfway out of its sheath as she glared at them. “Refuse, and you’ll have to me along with her!”

The threat took the reapers quite aback causing them to begrudgingly back away. “Satan will hear about this lady,” one of them weakly threatened. “We’ll-we’ll even go straight to Lucifer for this.”

“Good, do so. Be sure to tell him all about how you and your friends were ready to commit Filicide. I’m sure he’ll love that,” Marchosias countered sarcastically, watching them all float out of the room, likely to make their complaints. Once they were gone, she let out an exhausted sigh, sheathed her blade and relaxed. She was not looking forward to hearing Satan roar her ears out over this, but at the very least, the child was safe.

Marie turned to Tilly, the poor thing looking at her with scared tear-filled eyes, still reeling from her near-death experience. “T-t-t-they, they were going to k-kill me…”

Marchosias’ anger faded after that, rushing over to the shaken child to comfort her. “They won’t ever again. I promise you that; everything is going to be alright now, as long as I’m here.”

“W-where’s Mama? Where are my aunties,” Tilly asked, sounding so scared. “They said they’d be home soon, but they haven’t been back in days! Where are they?”

“She’s-” Had it not been for her damned curse, Marie would’ve considered lying to the girl. Sparing her from the bitter truth for just a short while long. But, she simply shook her head and gave the newly made orphan an apologetic look. “She’s not coming back I’m afraid. She and your aunts were slain four days ago. I’m so sorry.”

“No…no. No no no no!” The young girl began to break into a fit of ugly, as her world was shattered just like that. She buried herself into Marchosias’ side, as tears fell like waterfalls. Marie didn’t know what to do, but let her cry as long as she needed. Then slowly she began to wrap her arms around the poor child, and pulled her in for a hug; one the young fury didn’t fight against. The two of them sat there for what felt like hours. They would only separate, once the reapers had to rip the child from the marchioness’ arms forcefully. But until then, Marie let the poor thing cry out her small, broken heart.

It was 5 AM, and Captain Halley was already out of her bed. She had done this so often, that it was clockwork. Wake up, do the stretches, take a quick cold shower, get dressed, enjoy a black coffee, check on the guards and staff, get a small breakfast, and assume her post until she was needed. To most, the routine would’ve seemed monotonous, but Halley enjoyed the sense of familiarity with her day. It kept her focused, disciplined, and alert should any surprise emerge.

It was the same with her quarters in the Marchioness’ mansion and the summer house. The layabout was spartan, almost depressingly so, featuring only a cot with a pillow and blanket, a small bathroom, a table with two chairs, a closet, a coffee machine, and a nightstand where she kept only a framed photo of herself and the previous Captain, Hunter. One she’d always greet before heading out. Marchiosias had more times than she could’ve counted, offered to give Halley a bigger room or at the very least a more comfortable bed, but every time the captain had turned her down. She rarely stayed in her room for long, in her mind, the room made her thankful for what she had. A fulfilling work, good friends, good food, family…

Halley pushed that thought away with a splash of water as she looked at herself in the mirror. “Not now. You are the Captain! You are the peacekeeper and lawmaker of your lady’s home. You are strong, you are loyal, and you are steadfast. That comes first, and everything else…second.”

With that, she left the room, giving her photo one last passing glance, (“Still miss you, bro,”) and went to do her duties. It took her less than an hour to check on all the staff, ensuring everything was up to snuff, and by then Marchosias was already up and finishing breakfast. “Morning Captain Halley, anything to report?”

“Morning my lady, thankfully nothing serious,” Halley greeted courteously. “Will our guests be arriving soon?”

“Wake up’s not for another 2 hours. Although, I was hoping you might do the wake-up call in place of Alphonse this morning,” Marchosias answered as she rose from her seat, a servant collecting her cup and utensils once she was done. “I believe he’s earned a small respite after the less-than-ideal prior morning, and he was hoping to catch up with his brother.”

“Will do ma’am,” Halley saluted. She went to grab her usual breakfast, a piece of brown buttered toast, a bowl of porridge, a glass of water and some sausage and hashbrowns, before sitting down next to the marchioness. “Would you like me to wake up your daughter as well? You know, considering her reaction last time and all?” She asked hesitantly, the captain losing her professional sternness, at the mention of the half-hellhound.

Marie thought it over momentarily: “If she refuses to leave the bedroom, you may allow her to sleep in. Just get the rest of her company to start with. And do try to be gentle with them?”

Halley simply nodded and returned to her breakfast, Marchosias leaving her to it. Once she was finished, the hound went to work. Halley did another round of checkups, looked into the waiting staff, being extra careful to check on anything suspicious among them. After Marie had informed her of a potential spy within their ranks, the new captain of the guards made sure to look out for anything unusual. A task she took no pleasure in; she had known a lot of the staff here for decades of her life, and the idea that one of them might’ve been a traitor, possibly as far back as the original assassination attempt, made her disgusted. With them, and herself. How could they not have noticed? What was the point of her long years of training at the academy, if she wasn’t able to track down one damned spy amongst them. If she only had been more careful Hunter might-

Halley forced herself to ignore those thoughts. Those were distractions; they would only hamper her duties. Her tasks; were all that mattered.

Speaking of which, Halley checked her watch, confirming it was almost time for the wake-up. Quickly finishing the last of her duties, she made it over to where the guests were staying. Pulling out a whistle, she gave it a hard blow and shouted: “Up and at ‘em folks! Breakfast is ready and the marchioness expects you in the briefing in an hour! So get dressed and washed ASAP!”

Thanks to her enhanced hearing, Halley could tell all four of them had heard her demands…and none of them were too pleased by the disturbance. After 30 minutes the imps all emerged from their rooms, washed and dressed, and with grumpy moods. “Fucking hell lady, a little warning next time, you wanna try and make us all deaf?!” Blitzo barked at the hound, who just took it in stride.

Moxxie and Millie looked annoyed but didn’t give the guard any trouble as they went down for breakfast. Meanwhile, Loona hadn’t emerged. Halley had heard her briefly wake up along with everyone else, only to return to bed once the captain had stopped talking. Halley gave the door a passing glance, and almost considered trying to wake her up again, but reluctantly shook her head and joined the others.

Shortly after breakfast, everyone was escorted into a large debriefing room. Filled with chairs all pointed towards a wall, that was barren save for a massive projector screen. Besides it stood Marchosias, besides an odd-looking machine, with several files under her arm. She greeted the team with a simple nod. “Thank you all for coming on short notice.”

The rest of the team didn’t respond other than a few grunts, though Moxxie answered with a small yawn. The imp had small bags under his eyes and a look indicating he hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep. Millie looked over at him with concern.

“You okay there Moxx?” She asked gently. “Yah look awfully tired, for someone sleeping in royal beds.”

Moxxie let out one last yawn and tried to shake off his tiredness. “Yeah, honey I’m fine. Just had a bit of trouble sleeping last night is all.” Millie nodded, seeming to accept the answer, but secretly suspected more was happening.

Marchosias cleared her throat, getting everyone’s attention. “Now, as promised we’re going to start looking into the potential leads behind the assassination attempts, and possibly even the kidnapping of my daughter,” she reminded them humourlessly. As she started, the marchioness went to turn on the machine, catching Blitzo’s attention. “First of all, I’ve-”

“Hold up, Is that a fucking overhead projector?” Blitzo asked, letting out a snort in bafflement at the outdated relic.

“Yes, it is,” confirmed Marie stoically, which only caused Blitzo to laugh harder.

“Good Satan, I don’t think I’ve seen one of those since I was a child,” Moxxie whispered in astonishment, at the sight of the device.

“What are you lady, a fucking 900-year-old grandma?!” chortled Blitzo, unable to believe someone like her was using it. “Nobody uses that piece of shit anymore! It’s fucking obsolete!”

“It’s efficient,” Marie insisted, growling annoyed at the imp’s constant mockery; as was Captain Halley.

“As efficient as a condom made by a hedgehog probably,” Blitzo jeered mockingly, not noticing Halley quietly walking up to the imp. “Fucking Christ, no wonder you never found these people. You’re using tools invented by farts, older than half the Goetias in this world.”

Marchosias could feel her throat turning into a furnace, as she was close to throwing hands with the bothersome imp when Captain Halley cleared her throat. “My lady please, allow me.”

WHACK!

One solid hit to the mouth was all it took, to finally stop Blitzo’s childish mockery, the imp crumbling from his seat and onto the ground. “Either of you have a problem with that?” She innocently asked Moxxie and Millie, who both calmly shook their heads.

Marchosias fought back a snort as she nodded to the Captain. “Thank you, Captain; return to post.” She waited for Halley to do that and Blitzo to sit again before she continued, the imp nursing a bruised cheek but doing nothing except grumbling to himself. “As I was saying, I’ve received an update from Prince Stolas regarding the assassin; sadly nothing useful. After a thorough interrogation, it seems the man knows nothing regarding a potential suspect: One of his partners had the most contact with him. All we have so far is his rifle,” Marchosias projected an image of the rifle in question, the weapon bearing a close resemblance to the one they had stolen from Striker. “And the name of his partner; Remington. He passed out shortly after revealing this, and remains unconscious right now.”

“Well, that’s just fucking dandy, glad to know that was a huge fucking waste of time,” Blitzo barked out sarcastically, frustrated by the lack of answers, even more so with a bruised cheek.

“Not entirely. We have a name now, which is more than we started with. I don’t suppose the name Remington means anything to you?”

The married imp pair shook their heads in response. “Oh, what, so every assassin knows each other right?” Blitzo scoffed in an overly disgusted manner, clearly just wanting to cause a scene. “Typical royal prejudice, lady. Shame on you yah racist, white-privilaged cunt!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know that you-” Marie nearly snapped at the imp, before calming down; she felt a bit embarrassed at having taken such easy bait. “I’m going to take that as a no then. Worth a shot. Still, we should start searching for any information regarding a mercenary or assassin by the moniker. Either by a search through the usual channels for any clue of him, or should that fail us a trip to the archives.”

Moxxie pulled out a small notebook and pen, writing down Remington’s name as Marie moved on to the files under her arms.

“For now though, we must focus on our most known suspects. I have here the files of those mostly likely to have some involvement in the assassination attempts.”

Marie pulled out one of the slides and placed it against the projector. “Let’s start with one of the less likely suspects.” The image lit up on the screen, revealing a misshapen hulk of a man. His skin was a mix of dark browns and angry oranges, like a tree on fire. His body was swollen in some places, with his left arm being insanely muscular and his right leg looking like a stump. His right eye had a nasty-looking scar, he had broken horns and a set of sharp teeth protruding from his mouth. Clad in ancient, Babylonian armor and held a massive Great Sword. “Gog. Of the ancient Gog and Magog duo; or at the very least named after them. During their lifetime, they lead massive armies upon the weaker cities of the East, pillaging and conquering everything in their wake. It wasn’t until they were defeated and imprisoned by Alexander The Great that their reign ended.”

As she continued her small lecture, Marie began replacing the slides with new ones, showing images of Gog and his Brother in their mortal days laying siege to a village and then moving to a different slide, showing the now demonic brothers, leading an army of lowly sinners in the early days of Pentagram City. “Their tyranny didn’t stop in the afterlife, as they would continue pillaging in Hell, gathering a large army of Sinners and Hellborn under their banner. They became a regular nuisance in the cities of Pride and Wrath, even tried to start the Apocalypse early, attempting to steal Asmodean Crystals to escape into the Living Realm.”

“And I’m guessing since this is a shitload of years later, and we’re still waiting for the Anti-Christ to get off her redemption phase, that didn’t work out too well?” Blitzo asked sarcastically.

He got the answer in the form of the last slide; a news article depicting Magog lying dead on the ground, Marchosias wiping her blade clean. “Yes, luckily for us, they backfired and none managed to breach the Mortal plane. But their attempt had proven worrisome enough for Hell, that Lucifer gave the go-ahead to arrest them, sending me to assist when the Reapers were not enough. Most of their forces were killed that night, Gog only managing to escape thanks to his brother Magog, sacrificing himself to ensure his safety. Since then Gog’s gone into hiding, though always at sites of Turf Wars and such.”

“Ooooh, sounds like the kinda guy, ah’d love to try mah axe on!” Millie smiled excitedly at facing off against such an infamous killer. It had been a while since the imp had a proper challenge. “Where do we find him?

“Unknown. The last recorded sighting of Gog was 20 years ago in Pentagram City. There are rumors he took up the mantle of an Overlord, but nothing’s been proven,” Marchosias answered, much to Millie’s disappointment, the imp had been dying for a bit of real action, since the assassination attempts, especially after the disaster that was the day before.

“Pardon me, if this is out of line, but how could you just let him remain unfound like that? Especially after all the chaos he and his brother caused over the years?” Moxxie asked, looking up from his notes for a moment.

“There have been several attempts to find and arrest Gog since then, but it seems after a few centuries since his big revolt, Hell is content to just leave him be. Gog was not the smartest of the duo, leaving most of the strategizing to his now-dead brother, so another uprising like that seems unlikely.” Marchosias explained as she removed the slide from the projector. “He’s a spiteful bastard and he has reason to hate me, so I wouldn’t put it past him to have a hand in things, if only for the thrill of it. But given his lack of a mind, it’s doubtful he’s anything but brute force if that.”

That seemed to answer enough for Moxxie, who quickly wrote it all down in his notes.

“Next, there’s Count Halphas,” Marie moved to the next slide, revealing a tall dark grey stork. He had large red eyes, with two small eyes in between them. There were two pictures of him, each wearing different clothes. One was a formal count, with an olive green cape over a grey tuxedo and a red tie; the other was that of a weapon’s smith, dirty gloves, dark green apron, and a formerly tan-colored uniform now caked in dried blood. “Halphas’ expertise is in weapons manufacturing, arms dealing, and war profiteering. As the right-hand blacksmith and weapons forger to Satan himself, Halphas has supplied several armies and legions with his towers worth of handcrafted arms of death. Just about every member of the Ars Goetia has a weapon or a hundred of his make, and with his morbid creativity, there’s nothing this bloodthirsty beast won’t think up; and most importantly, he’s one of the few of the Ars Goetia permitted to craft Holy Arms. If anyone could supply our foes with their weapons, it would be him.”

She showed them the next slide, showing off many weapons made by the bloodthirsty Goetia. Guns, blades, missiles, weapons of every kind. Even a rare holy blade and gun among them. It was enough to make the imps a little nervous…except for Millie who was practically salivating at the sight of them all. “Any reason in particular he might want to target you?” Moxxie asked.

“Not particularly,” Marchosias admitted. “Granted, he’s a petty piece of shit, and we clashed on numerous occasions because of differences; he found my charitable work disgusting, and I was equally not fond of his work. Mostly though, he’s hated me for taking away much of his hellhound workforce, after I offered them better jobs away from unreasonable working conditions. But more often than not, he’s fine with putting business above grudges and cares little for how his weapons are used. Still, he’s likely the best holy weapons forger in Hell, meaning the assassin’s rifle might turn out to be one of his. And if that’s the case, there’s very likely a chance we might find out whom he sold it to.”

Marchosias moved onto the next slide, revealing a grey-skinned woman with white hair, wearing a black dress and razor-sharp ballet shoes. “And the only one on the same level as him, is the Overlord, Carmilla Carmine.”

“EEEEEEEEEE!” Exclaimed Moxxie in a fit of fangirl squeeing, his eyes turning into stars at the mention of the Overlord. Everyone looked at him in confusion or amusement, causing the imp to shift back into his seat in embarrassment. “S-sorry, I’m a big fan.”

“Why the fuck would some Overlord skank, care about the Goetias?” asked Blitzo confused.

“She usually doesn’t. Carmilla prefers to keep her businesses tied exclusively to Overlords and Sinners. But as the biggest arms dealer in Pride, she has ties and connections to just about everyone who’s ever held a Holy Weapon be it a sinner, Goetia, or otherwise. Meaning she’s our best lead to track the buyer of the bomb and rifle,” Marchosias answered, as she flipped through a few slides, revealing some of Carmilla’s wares; including a very familiar rifle that once belonged to a certain cowboy. Marie then shifted uncomfortably, revealing something that caught most of the imps completely off guard. “That, and she is one of the few demons outside my keep that knows about Diana.”

The imps were taken aback by that reveal, with the trio assuming Marchosias hadn’t told anyone other than her staff. Blitzo was especially outraged: “Wait, there are more people who know about Loona? The fuck weren’t we told this sooner?”

Marchosias couldn’t blame Blitzo for his anger at that one as she sighed: “I did not think they’d still be a problem after all this time. Outside from those working for me only about three knew about the secrets beforehand. And only two with reason to hate me,” Marchosias admitted. “After the first attack on D-Luna, I went to Camilla to see if the assassin’s weapon belonged to her, or if she could track the buyer. She initially turned me down, refusing to out her clients, but I was growing desperate. After so much searching without an answer, I told her about my baby and what had happened. I hoped that being a mother herself, she might understand my plight. And thankfully that was enough to convince her to look into it, but sadly it was a dead end. I doubt she’s behind it, but hopefully, she might give us another lead on the real killers.”

Moxxie quickly wrote those facts down on a small piece of paper by the side of his desk, making a small note to ask Marie to eventually ask how many of the guards and staff knew of the secret. Sitting next to her husband, Millie was starting to get suspicious of his writing, but before she could ask about it, Marchosias had moved on.

“The only other notable one who knows about my daughter is Marquis/Marchioness Phenex,” Marie moves to the next slide, her professional frown slipping as she did, featuring Marquis Phenex dressed in a fancy suit, with a lab coat around their shoulders like a cape. “We were childhood friends, long before our fall. So much so, that she was one of the few I felt comfortable about revealing not only my relationship with Hunter but my pregnancy with Diana too.”

“Ah’m guessin’ that didn’t end up goin’ too well?” Millie asked the imp who had a feeling this was where things were headed.

Marchosias’ expression had remained mostly stern, but at the memory of her oldest friend, it was replaced with a look of sorrow and loss; all but confirming Millie’s suspicions. “Phenex did not take her fall from Heaven well. Much like I, she joined the cause to undue Lucifer’s banishment and speak up against his treatment by Heaven’s superiors. Once things escalated into war, we were of course stripped of our Holy status and damned alongside the Morningstar,” Marie recounted with regret. She spoke Lucifer’s name angrily, her voice shifting slightly before returning to somberness. “We all struggled to adjust to the massive change but Phenex…he took it harder than most. She despised Hell, and all its people, viewing them as the cause of all the wrongs in life. I tried my best to help her, but it rarely made a difference. Despite all that, I hoped she’d be accepting of my relationship with Hunter, due to our friendship. But I was mistaken.”

Embers of flame escaped Marchosias’ mouth at the memory of their last real talk, as a flash of anger broke out of her somberness. She was still disgusted by how her former friend had reacted that day. “After I revealed my pregnancy to Phenex, everything fell apart. We departed on awful terms, swearing off ever seeing the other again.” Even when they were forced to spend time in the same room together, Marie made it a point to stay as far away from her old friend as possible. The thought of the Phoenix made the marchioness’ blood boil, so she forced herself to calm down. “I admit, I’d never picture Phenex as a killer, but given her cunning and hatred for hellborn, I wouldn’t put it past him to have arranged the hit to get rid of something she viewed as a mistake.”

“Yeah, well her loss, not yours ah say,” Millie broke the silence, trying to lighten the mood a bit, giving the Marchioness a friendly smile. “Any friend who’d throw you off like that doesn’t deserve to be associated with someone like you.”

Her encouragement did lift the marchioness’ spirits a bit, but not too much. Despite their falling out and her unfortunate bigotry, Phenex had been one of her oldest friends; one of the few she had left in this heaven-forsaken realm. Even with their differences, it hurt having to sever ties with him. This would be their first time talking in years; something Marie was not looking forward to.

And speaking of past acquaintances, she was not looking forward to see again. “That brings me to another suspect.” Marchosias moved to the next slide, revealing her first lover. Prince Sitri, dressed in his fine white suit, wings folded against his back, still with that arrogant smile. It was almost enough to make Marie light the image a blaze. “Prince Sitri. Known mostly for his trade in the Love Potions market, he has made a sizable fortune and name for himself, arranging engaged marriages and teaching men and women to seduce others, under their heel. With his silver tongue, he’s had many lovers and affairs throughout his life…including myself.”

“Oh…ohohoho, the old ex-boyfriend eh?” Blitzo chuckled, getting really interested in the newly revealed relationship drama. “Still bitter he dumped you like a sack of potatoes I’m guessing? Been through that bridge myself more times than I can count.”

“How very shocking. No, I broke up with him. My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner,” Marchosias whispered coldly, as she glared venomously at her ex. Her throat growled with flame, that she so wanted to spit onto his smug brow. “He’s on the less likely end of suspects though, mainly only there because of my history with him and his connections with other Goetias, including Count Halphas. Given his charm, there’s a strong likelihood he might’ve weaseled Diana’s existence out of either Phenex or someone else. He’s a bigot to be sure, but sadly not much different from the other nobles of his ilk. And all things considered, I doubt he even remembered our time together enough to even bother with vengeance. He moves to one fling from another, seemingly only finally stopping now that he’s married Flaurous’ daughter. But we can’t be too careful with this matter.”

Marie did hope poor Fiona was doing alright. Her years with Sitri had been awful; she couldn’t imagine what 20 years of him might’ve looked like. Not to mention, what their son was going through. Just thinking about it made her shudder.

“And finally…” Marchosias took a long, heavy breath before she moved on to her last suspect. “There’s Tilphousia; the last of the Furies.”

She revealed the final slide, showing a female demon unlike any the hellborn had seen. She looked vaguely humanoid, clad in a prisoner’s grab, though her skin was a sickly green and covered with stretch marks and scars. Her eyes were like two black voids, her pupils glowing a golden yellow and her teeth more like a shark’s. She had razor-sharp claws on her hands and feet, a small pair of dragon horns, and long wings like a bat. In place of hair, she had a nest of poisonous snakes. Even just from the picture, she looked ready to kill.

“The what the fuck now?” Blitzo asked confused.

“Yeah, I’ve never heard of those demons,” Millie nodded, scouring her head for any info on the Furies, only to come up short.

Her husband Moxxie initially seemed equally confused as the others, until he vaguely recognized the demon shown. This then connected to something he had read long ago: “I think I have! We’re they the group of women, who attempted to ravage all of Hell in that big coup centuries back?”

Marie gave him a grim nod in confirmation, looking back at the image being projected on the whiteboard, and for a moment her gaze softened as memories of war, losses, and mistakes returned to the Marchioness’ mind. Steeling herself up, she moved the slide and continued her tale. This one depicted several other older-looking women, resembling Tilphousia, though clad in hellish armor and carrying razor-sharp whips with blessed tips. “The Furies were a remnant of a bygone era of Hell, birthed during the more chaotic times of Lucifer’s Reign. Created by the Morningstars and Lord Satan, to ensure order was kept in the realm and that the more destructive beings of the cursed pit, didn’t step out of line. Their use faded eventually, relegating to prison keepers and tortures, but that would change soon enough.”

Marchosias moved to the next slide, showing several large gatherings of sinners protesting across Pride. They looked angry, carrying signs decrying Lucifer, some even clashing with the Reapers. “Shortly after the Annual Exterminations began, riots across the Rings demanded Lucifer step down as Emperor of Hell for allowing this travesty to go on. And while the Morningstar was initially more than open to the request, Satan and Paimon talked him into a more…brutal way of dealing with the riots.” Everyone remained quiet, listening to Marie’s tale as she moved to the next slide. Though that one disturbed them most, it depicted the Furies, now clashing with the sinners. Their wipes and talons tore the sinners apart, leaving behind corpses and scenes of carnage that made even them a bit disturbed. “With Lucifer’s reluctant approval, the Furies were tasked with quelling the unruly gathering of Sinners back into line by any means necessary. Even being given access to the Holy Arms to kill any who refused to surrender quietly. It was successful until their leader Tisiphone decided Hell was not worth saving. Seeing the full depravity and selfishness of the Sinners, the overindulgence of the Ars Goetia and the apathy of some of the Sins, caused her to view the entire realm as deserving of total annihilation.” Then another slide, now showing the Furies being led by three of them, on a siege of the Morningstar castle. The one in the center of the trio, resembled Tilphousia the most, though clad in regal-looking armor and even a helmet that resembled a crown. “So she, along with her sisters Megara and Alecto instead led their fellow furies in purging the realm of all those she and her sisters deemed too sinful. Which then eventually extended into some of Hell’s royals.”

She showed them the next three slides. The first two depicted the aftermath of one of the Furies’ attacks. First, they had attempted to assassinate President Marbas, the slide showing the man crying out in pain, his left arm having been cut off, and his face burned to the bone. Next, they had assaulted the now ruined home of the late Ars Goetian President Glasidos-Labolas, the dead demon’s body being carried by reaper orderlies. At the same time, his young son Earl Glasya-Labolas cried in the background. The next one showed a few other more battle-ready members of the Ars Goetia and their legions engaging in battle with the Furies. Even Satan was getting involved in the far background, and Marchosias herself clashed with the leader, now identified as Tisiphone. “I, along with many of Hell’s strongest warriors, was tasked with killing the Furies before their rampage threatened to leave the Realm a wasteland. It was a long and brutal war, that left many dead and much of the rings all but destroyed, but eventually, we managed to win. The Furies were all killed, with myself delivering the final blow to Tisiphone. But, despite all the shocks we experienced, none of us expected her to have sired an heir. That being young Tilphousia.”

The next one depicted the young fury, the poor girl barely looked old enough to know how to read. The eyes were sad and scared like the frightened thing had been crying for hours. Just seeing her again, made Marchosias uncomfortable, painful memories of long ago starting to return.

Dealing with the Sins, especially Satan, was never easy. But fuck these past few weeks had been more draining, than if a horde of starved vampires had drained her dry of all her blood. Ever since finding young Tilphousia, they could not decide what to do with the young Fury. Satan, Mammon, and Leviathan demanded she be put to death; as did most of the Goetia once the news had spread. Asmodeus and Beelzebub were more sympathetic to the child, while Belphegor seemingly had no strong opinion.

The ultimate deciding vote came down to Lucifer himself. Despite strong pressure from Hell and the Goetias to have the child executed, Marchosias was relieved when the Emperor demanded she be spared. But of course, that left them deciding what to do with the child. Everyone had their own opinion, some more extreme than others, and egos big enough to refuse to back down.

It had gotten so bad, that Marchosias had been summoned during her sabbatical work in Gluttony, to voice her own opinion on the matter; not that it had helped much. She had proposed the young girl be put into foster care with her or a potential other family, that way Tilly could grow up and perhaps turn out differently from the others. A few of them were open to the idea but the rest had laughed in disbelief; unable to believe the child of a monster like Tisiphone could be capable of change.

So that was a whole day of her life wasted. Or maybe only mostly; after all, she had been granted permission to visit Tilphousia for a few minutes afterward. She was being kept in a small cell room within the courthouse. The marchioness had visited her once or twice since her capture, just to check up on the poor thing, as it seemed no one else had bothered to show her the slightest bit of comfort since her arrest.

The guard led her towards the familiar room. “Tilly? Are you there? It’s me Marie,” she announced gently after a small knock. “And only me. There’s nothing to worry about.”

It took a long while before she got a response from Tilly. “C-come in,” said the small fury on the other side of the door. With that, the guard unlocked the door and motioned Marie to head inside.

Tilly was there waiting for her, sitting by a tiny desk with some sheets of paper and a few worn-out crayons; and around her, several crude child-like drawings. Marie remembered it had taken her far too long, to convince them to give her just that, something to put her mind off the horrible reality she was facing. The fury smiled relieved at the sight of the marchioness. “Marie!”

The little girl bolted over to Marie, when she stepped inside, wrapping her arms around the winged wolf’s legs in a tight hug. Marchosias didn’t try to push her off, bending downward to return the gesture with her one arm. “I’m happy to see you too, Tilly. How are you holding up? Are the guards here hurting you in any way? Anything you need to tell me?”

Tilly’s smile faded at the questions, as she whimpered against the Goetia’s side. “I hate it here. Everyone’s so rude to me and they don’t let me outside except for bathroom breaks!” She looked up to the marchioness with scared, pleading eyes as she begged. “I miss my mom. I miss my family! When can I get out of here? What are they going to do to me?”

“I…we still don’t know that yet,” Marie admitted sadly, wishing she had better news to tell the poor child. “I hoped we could convince them to place you in a foster home, but that’s proving difficult.”

“I heard they were going to throw me in prison,” Tilly whispered, trying to sniff back tears, though she couldn’t keep them all.

It devastated Marie, to learn she had been told already. Whipping away the poor girl’s tears, the marchioness looked into her firmly in the eyes. “You listen to me Tilly, I swear it won’t come to that,” Marchosias promised her. “I have Queen Beelzebub’s support, along with Asmodeus’ and most importantly Lucifer’s. As long as that doesn’t change, you’ll be safe. I know things look bleak, but I will do whatever I can to ensure you’ll be okay.”

“P-promise?” Tilly asked hopefully. “Cross your heart.”

Marie chuckled. “I cross my heart and hope not to die, stick a needle in my eye. There, see?” She then gently rubbed the top of the fury’s head, with a soft smile. It felt a bit odd with all the snakes, but neither they nor Tilly seemed to mind. “Now, how about you show me some of your drawings?”

That improved her mood slightly, as the young girl led her to her many drawings. “I drew this one for you,” she handed Marie a drawing of them together. They were side-by-side, playing in a field with child-like smiles as if nothing was wrong.

“Thank you very much, Tilly,” she said, admiring the drawing. “It looks wonderful.”

Tilphousia brightened at the praise, the young fury blushing at the faint praise. Marie thought she looked adorable. How anyone could hate such a perfect creature, was beyond her. Tilly went back to the table to draw some more, only to pause with a shy frown. The young fury shifted a little as if she wanted to ask the marchioness something. “Could you tell me a story? Mama and my aunts would read to me, whenever they were at home,” she finally managed out shyly.

“Of course,” Marchosias nodded, as she sat down beside the young child. “There once was a hare and a tortoise. The two were rivals with the arrogant hare often mocking the older and wiser tortoise for being slow-”

“Is this one of those faerie tales?” Tilly asked a little confused, as if she had never heard one. Marchosias nodded. “Those aren’t the kind of stories Mama would tell me. She thinks they were too soft for me.”

“Oh, I see,” Marie shifted uncomfortably at that knowledge. “Would you like me to tell you a different story?”

“…No. I don’t mind. Please go on, I wanna know how it ends.”

“Well, one day the tortoise finally got enough of the hare’s constant mockery and challenged him to a race. The hare was confident he would win and so he accepted-” She spent the rest of her brief visit telling the young fury as many fables as she could, Tilly feeling a little better with each one as she continued drawing. Soon, it seemed like all her worries had melted away.

Marie forced herself to move onto the last slide, depicting the young, broken girl now being escorted by a pair of reapers, out of Satan’s courtroom. In the background, one could faintly make out the Sins watching her go.

“Satan and most of the Royal Court wanted her put to death immediately, but…I refused. She was only 5 years old, and I had seen enough blood to last my lifetimes. It took me and the painfully few sympathetic for the girl to convince them, but eventually, we were able to talk them out of execution. But Satan still insisted she be made an example of, with the approval of Mammon, Leviathan, King Paimon and the majority of the Ars Goetias, Tilphousia was sentenced to life in prison. I tried to interject, but by then it was beyond my control.” Marchosias closed her eyes in shame as the memory of that day came to her; one of the greatest failures in her lifetime. “She hated me for the murder of her family; a hatred she’s held long into adulthood. I tried visiting her often, to at least be there for her during those times, but sadly the shackles have only further hardened her hatred of me. The last time I visited her she promised one day she’d take her retribution, for what I had done; that was almost 22 years ago.”

Marie turned off the projector as the story ended and steeled herself toward the others. “Thus far, these are the ones most likely involved with the assassination attempt on Luna. I suggest we go over each one by one, starting with the two least likely to have a hand in things; if only to get those out of the way first. Those being Gog and Carmilla; the latter of whom might help us track the buyer of the new assassin’s buyer and a possible hint to Gog’s whereabouts. Though I am open to suggestions.” She didn’t have to wait long for Blitzo to raise his, an unsatisfied frown visible.

“What we can’t just take ‘em all down at once?” He demanded. “Bet we could find and interrogate all of them the same day if we split up.”

Marchosias came quickly with an explanation. “Aside from the fact that a gaggle of imps knocking at their door demanding answers might raise a few eyes? We have enough of those as it is,” she gave them all a knowing look, remembering their first encounter with each other. “Keeping things simple and dealing with the suspects one by one, will allow us to get a more thorough investigation on all of them.”

That did not satisfy Blitzo. “Well, that’s smart and all, but how do we know all these guys aren’t just working with each other? Maybe once we talk with one they’ll just go right ahead and report to one of their bosses, the second we’re through!”

“I don’t deny that it is a possibility, but an unlikely one. Again, why is it best to talk with the least likely suspects first? Less risk involved that way.” Blitzo relented after that but still didn’t seem too pleased about it. “Do either of you have any objections to this course?”

“I do have one question actually,” Moxxie answered, raising his hand politely awaiting Marchosias to give him approval to speak. She gave him a quick nod, prompting him to ask: “Shouldn’t we be focusing all our efforts on Marquis Phenex and Carmilla? After all, they are the ones that know about Loona, so they’d be the most likely to be responsible.”

“An excellent point Moxxie,” said Marchosias, earning the imp bright and excited smile. Blitzo just rolled his eyes at the faint praise. “Indeed, Phen is thus far the biggest suspect in this matter, but in my experience, it’s best not to leave any stone unturned. And besides, given the power and influence of some of them, we can’t be sure they might’ve figured it out without our knowledge. We’ll start with Gog if only to quickly remove him from the board, and Carmilla for a possible lead on the rifle, but once they’re both cleared, Phenex will be our main suspect.”

That was enough for the imp, Moxxie nodding in understanding, writing that down in his notebook. “Hmm, that makes sense. Thank you for clarifying.” Blitzo quietly grumbled in his corner, mouthing ‘fucking teacher’s pet’ when he was sure no one was looking.

“And questions from you Millie?” Marchosias asked the other imp, just to be thorough.

She gave her a shrug. ”Nope, as long as ah get to kill somethin’, that sounds good to me!”

That got a laugh out of the Marchioness. “Very good. Then I shall call Carmilla and see if I may arrange a meeting.” Marie closed things with a satisfied nod. “I’ll let you know when we depart. Hopefully, it will not take any longer than a day at most. Until then, you’re all dismissed.”

With that, the imps took their leaves, Blitzo mumbling annoyed at being woken up so early for seemingly unproductive. Moxxie was briefly going over his notes before Millie dragged him off for something more fun. Once the others had gone, Marchosias’ strength faded, as the Marchioness leaned against one of the desks for support. Only Halley stayed behind, the captain looking at her boss with a worried frown, noticing Marie looking back at the photos of the young Tilphousia. Back when she was innocent before her entire world had shattered because of the marchioness.

The captain rushed over to help, carefully placing a hand on the marchioness’ shoulder and steadying her. “You okay Marie?” she asked worriedly, Marchosias turning to see her and it was apparent to anyone that she was distressed. “Hey, you can talk to me. I know this must’ve been hell on you, talking about her again, but you don’t have to hide it from me you know?”

Marchosias didn’t answer, though she calmed down a bit from the captain’s voice. Shortly after, she took a long breath and steadied herself. “I’m fine, Halley,” she insisted, though her conviction sounded shaky. If Halley noticed, she didn’t say. “At least I will be once this is all over. I need to make a call to Carmilla. And Tartaros Prison, to arrange a meeting with Tilphousia. It’s been entirely too long since I’ve seen her.”

“Wait, you’re going without them?” Halley asked taken aback. “Don’t you think you should be telling them about this?”

“Yes, I probably should,” Marchosias admitted. “But this one is personal to me; more so than the others. I need to see her on my own. If I learn anything, I’ll tell them afterward.”

“Even so, you really think she’s going to talk to you again? Didn’t exactly leave on good terms last time,” the hound reminded the marchioness, as Marchosias pulled out her flip-phone.

“I’m not going to give her a choice,” Marie answered grimly, as she began typing in the number.

“Right,” Halley muttered, she was about to leave when the hound remembered the one, pretty important person, not present at their rundown. “You wanna talk to D-Loona about the targets? Or you wanna leave that to one of her coworkers?”

Despite her previously grim turn, Marie couldn’t help but crack a small smile, as she looked up from her phone. “You could always just tell her yourself; you know you’re allowed to speak to her yes?” She asked with a bit of a chuckle. “Mind you, I don’t know how receptive she’ll be to your attempts, considering her poor reaction to her own friends visiting her yesterday. But I do believe I’ve kept you from her long enough.”

Halley’s eyes widened a bit at finally getting the go-ahead but she still didn’t seem so sure. “I know, it’s just after the last two assassination attempts, I can’t let my guard down now.” Still, the Captain felt the nagging need to look behind her, just in case another maniac with a holy weapon had snuck through unnoticed. “Make sure another one sneaks in again…”

“All the more reason you should try to see her,” Marchosias insisted, offering her captain a small friendly smile, which managed to work through Halley’s seemingly rough attitude. “She won’t be any safer than with the captain beside her. We have more than enough guards watching over us; talk to her. You’ve earned it, Captain. I don’t believe she’s had breakfast yet, so there’s another excuse. I believe she’s fond of bacon.”

Halley almost let her usual professional look crumble, as a feeling of excitement washed over her. After weeks of waiting, she was finally going to meet her-

The Captain forced the giddiness down, even as it kept trying to claw through with a bright, beaming smile. It took a lot, but Halley still reigned herself in and put on her best stoic face, even if Marie could see right through her. “Very well ma’am. If you insist, then I shall take my leave. Thank you.” Marie dismissed her with a friendly wave, watching as her captain ran off with a bit more excitement than usual. The Marchioness couldn’t lie, seeing Halley like this made her just a bit more relieved.

Sadly, moments rarely lasted long. Her frown turned solemn as she made her first call.

One would think, that in such a sin-filled and god-forsaken realm as Hell, where sinning was encouraged and murder was as common as the cold, there would be no such thing as laws or prisons. And yet, there was the rare time when those on high decided to bring the hammer down, on a certain few they deemed “too villainous.” Usually, the cocky assholes who were ballsy enough to steal from the royals, or attempted harm on someone whose lives ‘mattered’ more. Most of the time, they were thrown to a small cell while they awaited their execution, but there were a select few heinous or powerful enough, that Hell had no choice but to contain them in the darkest pits known to all demonkind.

Tartarus. The maximum security prison, located in the far reaches of Pride’s circle, where some of the most wicked of Hell, would be condemned to spend the rest of Eternity. Hellborn, Overlords, and mad members of the Goetia were all locked in here, severed from the outside world, with little to do but await the hopeful day the executioner put them out of their misery. Among these included Legion, Nessus, Cain and the last of the furies, Tilphousia.

Understandably, few ever ventured into this Infernal Pit of criminals. And yet, one limo pulled up towards the massive opening gates. After going through the usual security checks and looking in, the vehicle was permitted inside coming to a slow stop right outside the front door. Marchosias stepped outside; her first time visiting the prison in what felt like an eternity. Needless to say, she hadn’t missed it.

The warden stepped outside to greet her. She was a massive, muscular demon, with a human’s upper half and a large snake-like body in place of legs. At the tip of the tail was a scorpion’s stinger and two long bat-like wings protruded from her back. Her hair was blood red, her eyes a sickly green, and her human body was covered in scales like a reptile. She was Warden Campe.

On the way to Tilphousia’s cell, the warden gave Marchosias a small update on how the fury was faring. “We’re keeping her in solitary right now. The little beast got into a fight in the yard, tore the head off one of the guards and caused another riot. It’s going to take weeks to clean up that mess.” Marchosias didn’t respond to the warden’s stories, simply following the snake lady through the halls she used to walk through many times before. She would’ve thought getting here would calm her nerves, but truthfully they only made them worse. After 22 years, Marie wondered how much worse poor Tilphousia’s time here was spent. As the Warden led her down she paused to ask Marie a question: “Gotta say, I’m a little surprised it took you so long to see her again. Been so many years now, I figured you’d finally given up on her. What brought about the sudden change of heart?”

“I simply want to ask her a few questions, see if she’s truly been as locked up as I was led to believe,” Marchosias answered, choosing her words carefully, not to give away too much. She was indeed forced to respond truthfully to any questions, but over the years she had learned ways to circumvent her curse. “And…I suppose I was too ashamed to see her again.”

It took every ounce of strength and self-control, not to go back there and turn the giant red bastard, into the world’s biggest pair of alligator shoes.

After fuck knows how long of arguing and trying to appease the Sins to her suggestions, Marchosias had been informed through the bloody phone that the final verdict for Tilphousia’s fate had been agreed upon.

Life in Tartarus prison.

They were going to send a young girl, whose only crime was being born to a fury, into the prison where they kept the absolute worst of Hell, for the rest of her days. Likely hundreds, even thousands of years. It was fucking inhuman, even for this blasted pit of vice!

Of course, Marie protested this with all her might, so much so that the reapers had to restrain her from fighting Satan head-on. But the law enforcer of Hell had put his foot down, making it clear the people of Hell demanded recompense for what the Furies had done; it was either this or execution. When she had demanded Lucifer and the others do something about the heinous punishment, they could give her nothing but unapologetic shakes. It was out of their hands they simply said; the Ars Goetias and other Sins insisted it be done lest all of Hell lose their support in protest. Something they couldn’t afford, while they were still rebuilding.

And now she had to break the horrible news to the poor girl. Better her, than whatever apathetic reaper Satan would send to do the deed.

“Tilly? Tilly, are you there?” Marie asked through the door. She waited for a response that never came, then allowed the guard to open the door. What she saw devastated her; the room was trashed, the few belongings there thrown aside or smashed. Paper and drawings were ripped up or crumbled into balls, crayons were all broken. And in the far end, huddled up in a corner, was poor Tilphousia, her head buried in her knees, arms hugging herself as she softly whimpered.

The sight broke Marie’s heart. Had Tilly been told already? The winged wolf rushed to the young girl’s side and pulled her in for a hug. “Oh Tilly, I’m so sorry! I tried everything I could to change the verdict, but those damn bastards refused to listen to me!” She did her best to comfort the child, who had fallen silent once she had entered the room. “But it’s going to be alright. You won’t be alone; I’ll visit you as often as I can. Make sure you’re not hurt. I’ll talk to Lilith; do whatever it takes to get them to reverse this and-”

“Is it true? Were you the one who killed them?”

The young fury’s dark question caught Marchosias off guard. “Tilly, what are you talking about-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” shouted Tilphousia, breaking out of Marchosias’ hug as she glared at the marchioness, her snakes hissing as she glared at the winged wolf. “I heard the guards talking! They said you were the one who killed Mama!”

Marie’s eyes widened in shock at what she had said. She had found out?

The marchioness had wanted to tell the girl herself, but her work and the whole mess of a trial had kept her too busy to break the news properly. That, and loathed as she was to admit it, she was afraid. After having already taken so much from her, she knew she couldn’t bring herself to shatter the poor girl’s world even more. And now, she was paying for it. At the worst possible time. “Tilly, I-”

“I didn’t wanna believe them…I-I-I didn’t wanna…if-if-if you had y-y-you would’ve told me…” The poor thing was breaking down right in of her. Sobs and stuttered words all mixed, as Tilly seemed to want to deny it was true. She looked at Marie begging her to say it was all false. “Did you do it? Did you kill Mama?”

Her eyes bore right into Marchosias’ as if she were staring into her soul. The marchioness could already feel the answer creeping up her throat and fought to keep it down, unable to break the news. “ANSWER ME!”

“…yes.”

Horror and betrayal overcame Tilly’s small face, as the child backed away from the remorseful Marchosias, unable to believe this from the one she had thought to be her only friend. “Why? WHY?!”

“Tilly, I’m so sorry, I had no choice!” Marie tried to apologize to the now angry fury glaring in her in disgust. “Your mother she-”

“You lied to me! You lied to me right from the start!” Tilphousia screamed as she lashed out at the marchioness, weakly kicking and punching her, even as her hits had no apparent effect. “You killed Mama and you never told me!”

“I wanted to tell you, I really did, I just didn’t know how-” Marchosias tried to reach out to her.

With a swipe of her claw, Tilphousia cut the she-wolf across the arms as she roared with rage. “Get out! GET OU! GET OUT!” She grabbed the broken chair and threw it towards the now guilt-ridden Marie with all her might. Then her pillow, a part of her desk, anything she could get her hands on as she kept screaming out in pain, broken tears falling across her cheeks. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! YOU KILLED MAMA! YOU KILLED MAMA! I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WERE DEAD! OUT! OUT! OUT! GET OUT!”

Her screams eventually alerted the guards, who came rushing in to subdue the hysterical child, even as she fought back against them. Reluctantly Marchosias was escorted away from the room and out of the courthouse. She could still hear the young fury’s cries echoing in her mind, for years after that fateful encounter.

It was years before Marie dared to talk to Tilphousia again. Both because of shame for what she had done, and largely thanks to Sitri keeping her from doing so. Insisting it was a waste of time, that the timing was too soon, that she should let her calm down, and that she likely didn’t want to see her after what she had done.

When she finally worked up the courage to face her, Tilly was all but gone. The long time inside Tartarous had hardened the child Marie had once known. Gone was the sweet, innocent girl she would tell stories to and draw with, and in her place was a cold, wrathful woman, with hatred burning in her eyes. There was not a sliver left of love in her anymore. To this day, Marchosias cursed Sitri and herself. To this day she wondered if things could’ve been different, had she only-

“We’re here!”

Warden Campe’s gruff voice pulled Marchosias out of her thoughts. Returning to the present, Marie recognized the cell often reserved for the Fury. Beside it, two of Tartaros’ best guards stood on constant vigil.

“As promised, you have 10 minutes of privacy with her,” Campe reminded Marchosias, motioning the guard to unlock the prison door, the other one preparing their weapon just in case the fury would try something. “And when I come back, and find so much as a speck of dust out of place, I’m locking you in there with her.”

Marchosias nodded in response, as she approached the door. Before entering she inhaled deeply, bracing herself for whatever would await her on the other side. She couldn’t show weakness now. Tilly was gone, she had died when Marie had failed her; at least that was what she tried to tell herself. The guard opened the door and the winged wolf stepped inside. And there, leaning against the corner, her wrists chained to the wall, wings properly restrained and even her snakes covered in a tight helmet, was Tilphousia. The adult fury took one look at Marie and sneered.

“Hello Tilphousia.”

“Get out,” spat the fury. Her voice was dripping with barely contained hatred, the woman refusing to look at the marchioness. “I have nothing more to say to you.”

“Too bad, we need to talk,” Tilphousia had made it very clear last time, that any apology or explanation would be wasted, so she didn’t bother with the pleasantries this time. “I’m not any more thrilled about seeing you again as you are, but all you have to do is answer my questions, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“And why the fuck should I tell you a damn thing?” The fury scoffed. “Not like you can do anything to me here, whether it be to hurt me or free me. Even if you could somehow work up some kind of holy miracle to get me out of here, you’ve got to be one moronic idiot, if you think I’m going to accept anything from you.”

“Well for one, it would get me out of this cell quicker,” Marchosias pointed out calmly. “I’m sure that’s something you’d want right about now.”

The fury laughed darkly in response, as she smiled savagely. “Oh, lady you know I want far more than just that,” she gave the winged wolf a sideways glance, a hungry look in her eye. “Your head mounted on a spike for starters. Then the warden stabbed through the heart with her stinger. The Sins all torn to pieces; I could go on. I’ve had lots of time to get creative.”

“And secondly, because this time I’m not making requests,” Marchosias said coldly, as she approached the fury, with a cold glare. “You’re going to tell me what I know, or Lucifer, Campe and the rest of this Hell be damned, I will rip the words out of you by force if need be.”

Tilphousia was not impressed by the threat, rolling her eyes as she bitterly snarked: “Pretty sure all that’ll get you is a day or two locked up in here with me. So by all means, go right ahead; you know how much I’ve been looking forward to a more intimate reunion.”

“I also know that attempting to harm me in any way, would not end well with you,” Marchosias warned the fury, not wanting to see the woman harmed any further.

“Oh no, whatever will they do? Look me up in solitary again?” Tilphousia asked in sarcastic horror, knowing how hollow of a threat that was. “I’ve been in this empty void of a room, in about as many days as you’ve been up in Heaven. At this point, it may as well, be a vacation home.” She let out a small, dark laugh as the fury finally turned to glare at Marchosias, her burning yellow iris’ meeting those of the marchioness’ “Or hey, maybe they’ll finally give me the head chop, they’ve been dying to give me since I got here. Maybe I’ll finally see Mum again…you know if there was such a thing as an ‘after-afterlife.’ Do you ever wonder about that? Ever think she was praying for one before you murdered her?”

Tilphousia had asked that with cold hatred, that sent a chill through Marie’s bones. The marchioness sighed with a breath that sounded so tired: “Sometimes, whenever my nightmares remind me of that day, rather than the other ones…I have told you, I am sorry that I took your mother away from you. I’ve tried to make amends, the Lord knows I’ve told you so many times that I regretted killing her. But you know, I didn’t have a choice.”

Tilphousia snapped in response. “You always have a fucking choice. Isn’t that the bullshit, they preach in those stories back in your old holy lands?” she asked mockingly, with a disgusted sneer. “You could’ve knocked her out, at least tried to spare her, but no. Your big evil overlords wanted a corpse, and you were all too happy to comply.”

“She had killed hundreds of innocent lives-”

“NO ONE IS THIS FUCKING PIT IS INNOCENT!” Tilly roared out in anger, even some of her snakes hissing in agreement, her voice echoing through the cell as if to agree with herself. “That’s why it was created, right? So all the worst of existence could rightfully rot for all eternity. Even you oh-so-noble hellborn are no different. The ones lower in the chain indulge in vice, encouraging violence in others and throwing each other under the bus when it suits them. While the ones claiming to be better, are more than happy to exploit those beneath them, till all that’s left are husks of wasted life! And of course, the royal lot only cares about them, when it benefits you. Even that happy, go-lucky princess cares more about the damned souls than the countless imps and hounds, who barely have more rights than slaves! You celebrate sins as if they were a wholesome holiday, all but encouraging your creators to spread their messages of blasphemy throughout the realms, never once daring to fight back against them, even when they know it’s wrong!”

A somber Marie didn’t argue with her. In some ways, she couldn’t even refute the fury’s cynical claims. Try as she had to make the best of her new home, even now it was hard to stay hopeful while the sinners and the royals suffered little to no punishment, for their continued hedonism. “My Mum saw you all for the irredeemable bastards you are and knew none of you deserved redemption. Except when she and her kin tried to finally cleanse this Inferno of all its wretches and build it into something that could’ve been worth a damn, suddenly we were the real monsters. Animals fit to slaughter, without the chance of trial, their fucking children who never harmed a flower, deserving nothing less than to rot for life in here!” When she finally stopped for a breath, Tilphousia sounded like she was on the verge of breaking down. Marie could’ve sworn she had briefly seen tears beginning to well, in the fury’s pained eyes before she fought them back returning to simply sneering at the Goetia. “You and your kind took away all I had, and even now you expect more from me. Go throw yourself onto an exorcist’s blade. I don’t care what you do with me anymore.”

She turned away from Marchosias after that, clearly done with her. And for a moment, Marie considered leaving, she had done enough damage. But she needed answers; even if there was only a fracture of a chance that Tilphousia was responsible, Marie had to make sure. If only for her peace of mind. But she was no fool; she knew the fury would never willingly tell her what she wanted, and even if she did it would likely just be lies.

“Then how about this? Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.” Tilphousia perked up immediately after that, turning back to Marchosias to ensure she was being sincere. Indeed, Marchosias did not look to be lying. “You’ll have your long-awaited fight with me. No weapons, magic or support, just you and I, settling it once and for all. I’ll even let you kill me if you manage to get far enough for that.”

Tilphousia was shocked that the marchioness was offering this deal. “Swear it to me,” Tilly demanded, still refusing to believe her. “Promise me, you’ll give me that fight!”

Marchosias nodded and took a deep breath. A hellish red ethereal aura came off of her, eyes glowed yellow and a blue circle of fire appeared beneath her feet, burning her sigil into the floor as she made her promise. “Answer my questions truthfully and I, Marchioness Marchosias, 35th member of the royal house of the Ars Goetia, General under the Morningstar’s armies and Slayer of the Furies of Dis, do hereby swear to this deal.”

She would’ve offered her a traditional handshake deal, but given the fury was currently locked up in chains that would’ve been quite tricky. So for now, this would have to do. It was not a deal she was making lightly. Marie had dreaded the day when she would potentially fight Tilphousia. She knew the fury would insist on a fight to the death, and never could she bring herself to kill her old friend, even now as she hated her. And she feared what would happen to her friends and staff, should Tilly be the one to kill her. But in Marchosias mind, she didn’t have a choice. It was either her or her daughter. And for Luna’s safety, she was willing to do whatever she needed to make things right.

As the lights died down, Marie looked back at shocked Tilphousia, the fury recovering before giving her a firm nod. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

Marchosias wasted no time. “What have you been doing these past few days? Anything noteworthy within the last 2 weeks?”

Tilphousia tsked unimpressed. “Really? You came down here, just to hear about my boring prison life?” Marchosias simply glared in response, causing the fury to groan annoyed. “It’s the same old crap as usual. I sleep until 6, I get cleaned, we get counted by the guards, eat breakfast, occasionally get time outdoors, eat lunch, exercise, pick a fight, get solitary, have dinner and then sleep. The same bullshit, I’ve been put since you left me here. No big change whatsoever.”

“Oh? Have you not talked to any of your fellow inmates? Made any friends or the like?”

“With who the guards?” Tilphousia snarked unimpressed. “Everyone here is either too scared to even look at me or still pissy about what my family did. Maybe when I’m too bored, I’ll pick a fight with some of them, to distract myself. So that’s a no.”

So far, so good. Marchosias couldn’t sense any lies from the fury. “And what about outside of this prison?” Marchosias asked, leaning towards the fury focusing on her eyes, looking for any trace of deceit. “Have you had any contact with anyone? Either second hand or through someone else?”

Tilphousia gave her a look as if she was wondering if that had been a joke. But indeed the marchioness looked quite serious much to her bafflement. “You know damn well, you’re the only one with enough time and common sense to waste, to see me. Even if I wanted to chat with anyone, not like the pigs around here would let us, with them breathing down our necks,” she answered almost mockingly.

“And what if one of them WAS one of the guards?” Marchosias accused eyes narrowing as she approached the confused Fury, her arm instinctively reaching towards where her sword normally would be. “Has Tartarous been compromised? Is that how you managed to find out?”

“Find out? Find out about what? The hell are you on about?” Tilphousia asked, seemingly having no idea where this was going.

“What were you doing 22-23 years ago?” the marchioness asked. “Did anything happen during that period, that was noteworthy in any way?”

“22 years ago?” Tilphousia looked bewildered by the question. “Pretty fucking specific there don’t you think?.”

“Answer the question,” Marchosias demanded.

“Jesus, I don’t know,” Tilphousias shrugged nonchalantly, as if not taking the matter seriously. That only made the marchioness angrier.

“I don’t believe you,” She countered with a pointed glare.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, 22 years is a long ass time,” Tilphousia clapped back with a roll of her eyes, not taking the matter seriously at all. Marchosias couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or just fucking with her.

“Think Tilphousia,” Marie demanded, speaking in a tune that took the fury aback. “Truly try to think Tilphousia. Even if it’s been so long, surely you can remember at least one moment all those years ago. Some talk with someone or fight with a guard or prisoner. What were you doing those years ago? Was there any news that stuck out to you? Did you have any visitors other than myself? Did you learn anything about me during those days?”

Tilphousia only looked more confused with each increasingly specific question. “What do you think I keep a diary or some shit? How am I supposed to-”

“TELL ME!” Marie exclaimed eyes glowing, a small cloud of black smoke escaping her teeth. It was enough to get Tilphousia to back off a few steps.

“I don’t fucking know okay? I don’t bother remembering what happened one year ago much less over twenty. Nothing happens in this hellhole; the days all just blur together!”

Marchosias didn’t relent. “Try Tilly! Try really hard and think if something happened. Anything at all!”

“Why? Why do you want to know? What happened to you 22 years ago?” Tilphousia demanded, recovering from her shock to glare back at the marchioness.

“The worst day of my life since being damned to this infernal pit!” Marchosias exclaimed, her shout echoing throughout the cell, as she became lost in her anger, glaring down at the fury as she grew a bit. “And I need to know if you had even the slightest fucking part in it. So give me one reason to believe that you didn’t. That you haven’t already claimed your revenge 22 years ago. And if you are lying to me-”

“I’m not!” Tilphousia shouted, trying to get through to her. “Good fucking grief, no! The hell is up with you?”

“You promised that one day, you’d have your vengeance on me. That you would make me suffer beyond words. Was that it?” Marchosias eyes glowed, and for a brief moment, she increased in size, looking down on the fury as two sets of eyes emerged and blue flame enveloped her. “WAS IT YOU? DID YOU PLAN THAT ATTACK? DID YOU TRY TO KILL MY D-”

Marie caught herself before she revealed too much. Forcing herself to calm down, the marchioness shrank down, her anger having gotten the better of her, much to her shame.

She looked back at Tilphousia, the fury still in shock at her outburst. But once her surprise had faded into confusion, it soon turned to confusion. “Your what? Kill your what?”

“…someone close to me,” Marchosias was forced to answer, before all but bolting towards the door before the fury could ask another. Her time was up anyway. “We’re done here. GUARDS!”

The gates opened, and Marie was out there before the guards could even escort her. She just brushed past them, and almost did the same to Campe, before the Warden stopped her. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?” She requested, giving the marchioness a stern expecting look.

“…just wanted to see her again, after so long,” Marchosias answered vaguely, before walking off again, ignoring the dirty look Campe was throwing at her. Marie had less luck ignoring the sudden screams coming from the cells, calling out to her even when she was long gone.

“THIS ISN’T OVER! YOU HEAR ME YOU BITCH?! YOU OWE ME THAT FUCKING FIGHT! I’M COMING FOR YOU MARCHOSIAS! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID! MY MUM WILL BE AVENGED IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!!”

'After 2 months of debates and clashing, the Sins have finally reached a verdict regarding the fate of Tilphousia, the daughter of Tisiphone! Lord Satan officially confirmed today, that the daughter of the queen of Furies, has been sentenced to life in Tartarous Prison, with likely no expectation of potential parol or pardoning. The young daughter of Furies is expected to be shipped off there, along with the rest of the Furies’ loyalists, later today. We still have no word from Emperor Lucifer regarding the matter, but his wife Empress Lilith has released a statement on the matter, heavily criticizing the verdict-'

Prince Sitri turned off the radio, as he turned towards Marchosias. The defeated-looking Marie was lying by his living room table, her yellow eyes down a reddish-orange color with her cheeks salty from dried tears. Besides her, was a now empty bottle of wine, and any of her usual fire had long since died. The she-wolf hadn’t looked this defeated, in centuries. “That’s enough of that mi armor,” he sighed shaking his head as he massaged her shoulders. “You’ve been listening to that trash since you got here home. It’s not healthy to dwell on your sorrows for so long. For your mind or your appearance.”

Marchosias barely reacted to his words at first, too numb from the day prior as she sobbed: “It’s my fault Sitri; all my fault. I orphaned a child. She’s in Tartarous now, because of me,” she cried, burying her head in her head in shame.

“On come now my love, you know that isn’t true. If you hadn’t killed those abominations, it might’ve been you or I who would’ve been killed,” Sitri said calmly. “At the very least thanks to you, we’re finally rid of those horrors, and Hell will be able to sleep peacefully again. What happened to the child might be…unfortunate for you, but if we had left her to go free, she likely would’ve just followed in her mother’s footsteps. You’ve seen those furies up close, you should know by now they’re incapable of doing good. Honestly, you’re better off forgetting about her.”

Marchosias shook her head, refusing to believe that, still wracked with guilt. “No, no there was a chance for her. You just did see her like…I have to talk to her. Apologise to Tilly, try to make things right.”

Marie rose from her chair, only for Sitri to try and push her down. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, my dear,” he argued gently, though with a firm twist.

Marchosias escaped from his grip and turned to him with disgust. “How could you possibly say that? Tilly’s likely alone in a cell, she needs my help,” she stormed off towards the door after that, Prince Sitri growling annoyed at the sight. She was almost out of the door, before he caught up to her, stopping the she-wolf from leaving. She growled at him in response, but the winged leopard didn’t back off.

“Darling, darling, calm down; breathe for me, just a second before you do something rash. ” The prince instructed sweetly motioning to follow his lead. Marchosias was hesitant but eventually did as requested. The marchioness noticed a peculiar scent in the air as she breathed, it smelled rather sweet; and made her feel calm. Once she was cool, he gently said: “Now, do you think this child seeing you again is what she wants? After how horrible your last encounter was, I doubt she’d give you an ounce of her time or forgiveness. Even if she did, do you think any words you tell her, can erase the pain you’ve done to her? I mean you killed her mother after all, how can anything you do make up for that?”

“I…I should still try. Give her some-”

Sitri held her hand, caressing it as he smiled sadly. “Oh mi amor, your heart’s at loving as ever, but I fear it won’t do either of you any good now. Besides, it’s far too soon for this don’t you think? Give her some time to process things. I’m sure in a week or a month, she may be more open to hearing your side if it’s still weighing you down by then.”

“I…you’re right, the timing is too soon,” Marie relented, wanting to argue more but had to admit her lover had a good point there. She had already brought Tilly enough grief for a lifetime; perhaps some distance was what they both needed for now. “Next month then; I’ll give her the time she needs before I see her.”

“That’s my girl,” Sitri purred as he caressed Marie’s face, offering her a warm smile, which she eventually but weakly returned. “Now come, why don’t we take a bath? I’m sure you need something more relaxing after all that’s happened. And all your time down in that absolutely humid, flea-ridden swamp with that drunken Queen.”

Marchosias followed her boyfriend towards the bathroom, admitting that a warm bath sounded good right about now. But still, her guilt weighed heavily on her, as she still remembered the young child’s heartbroken face even now. Without thinking, she reached into her pocket, only to touch a folded piece of paper. Carefully she picked it up, unfolded it, and recoiled at what it was.

It was the drawing of her and little Tilly, the two smiling happily in a field. And yet, when she saw it all Marie could think of was-

“YOU KILLED MAMA! I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WERE DEAD!”

She shoved it back into her pocket, biting back tears unable to look at it anymore.

When she finally returned to Gluttony, she hid it inside an empty chest, where it remained, untouched, for years.