Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

Your Guardian (Part One)

[Your Guardian – Part 1]

I jolted awake, breathless and panting. My heart raced, thumping painfully in my chest and my world wobbled slightly as I desperately looked left and right to get a sense of where I had woken up in. The sunlight filtered beautifully through a pair of large windows at the far end of the room, sitting above a study table that had been orientated to face the beautiful greenery outside.

It was a familiar room –my bedroom. Yet, despite all the memories that I had created within these walls, it was not that room that I had wished to see upon waking. I was so sure that I would return home... but...

Wait. If I died from poisoning in the palace's study room, then how did I come back to my own bedroom?

The heartbeat that had only just been calming down picked up again, and I moved unfamiliar-feeling limbs to wrench the covers that had kept me tucked snuggly. The bed felt strangely bigger and taller than I remembered as I found my feet beneath me. My line of sight felt strangely different as I put one foot in front of the other quickly, crossing the room that felt a little bigger than I remembered.

The strange sensations that my body gave in contrast to the memories that flooded my brain could only be the result of one thing –one conclusion that I was afraid to make before I found more evidence. And I knew exactly where to find this evidence: the full-length mirror that sat covered in the corner of the room.

My hands and fingers felt smaller and shorter than I remembered when I curled them around the cloth that hung over the mirror, and I gave it a quick tug downwards as I stepped back to get a clear view of myself from head-to-toe.

A young girl of no older than 11 years of age stared back at me, eyes full of confusion trembling as she scanned me up and down, looking for tell-tale signs. In the mirror, she dropped the sheet that had been gripped in her hands to the floor, then busied her hands to grab the hem of her nightdress and pulled it up. I pulled the material far enough to reveal half of my thighs, then pivoted my right leg outwards slightly.

There was no scar. I was at most 10 years old, then.

I checked my fingers desperately, pressing and rubbing the pads of my fingers against each other lightly. There were slightly calluses hiding beneath the surface –hardness that was in the midst of being strengthened from being abused too often when pressed upon hard metal strings of a violin.

I had started learning the violin when I was 9.

The bright chirping of birds was an everyday routine, but for some very strange reason, it sounded very familiar in my ears. Something inside me told me that I had heard this cacophony of chirpings before, on a very particular day in my memories. But... what day was it? What had happened; which day had I returned to after dying in my previous life?

"Y-Your Highnesses! I beg of you, please wait in the sitting room while we fetch the miss! She must still be in bed and not prepared to receive your visitation!" The loud begging protests of a handmaid that I was very familiar with came through the door, but the sounds of thuds of feet running along the corridor did not stop or slow down.

"We're okay with her being in bed! We just want to see Lady Corvina!" A child's voice replied brightly, and my insides churned. The familiarity of the temperature of the room, the rhythm of the chirping of birds outside, my suddenly jolting awake and running to the mirror, the sounds of children running down the corridor and my maid pleading her protest... everything finally set in place as I spun around on instincts to face the door.

"Dante, you take the other door." The instructive voice came loud and recognizable. There was a sound of acknowledgement of the instructions, and the knobs to the double-door that led to my room turned as I stood at the far end of the room, staring and waiting in anticipation.