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In The Beginning	By : Birdie Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 1316 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Devil May Cry game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-In The Beginning
- 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry or any of it's characters, they belong to Capcom. I make no money out of this. You can try and sue me but I live in a hole in the Arctic and live on a diet of ice and the occasional science researcher. This is complete bollocks but there you go.
A/N: hmmm... I haven't see a lot of Mundus/Sparda out there, but maybe it's because I haven't looked hard enough. Sorry if you think Sparda is a bit too uke, but I think Sparda is quite naive. Just because he kills demons doesn't mean he has to go top, especially since his lover is the emperor of all demons. And please don't flame me because you're a Sparda/Eva shipper, because I like that pairing too. But this is pre-game, and pre-Eva.

In The Beginning

My father once gave me three pieces of advice. "Son," he slurred drunkenly. "In this world, there is only three things you need to remember. One, anyone who can't carry out their threats is nothing but a coward. Two, don't marry a woman who's breasts are bigger than your head. Three, never EVER do battle with a sword that's thicker than the length of your little finger."
With that, he took another swig of wine that could have been dog urine only it was ass-rapingly expensive. Nothing here came cheap. Even getting drunk had it's price.
As you may know, I am prince Mundus, the sole heir to the empire in the Demon World. For those who don't know me, where have you people BEEN?! Well, you must have heard of my father: the best fuck in the void of time and space. If you haven't, you probably haven't spoke to civilisation for 3 centuries or more. Then I hear you crying out (like you pathetic humans do): "but if you're father's such a horny bastard, why are you his only child?"
Because my mother neutered him when she found out she was pregnant with me, that's why. But anyway, I digress. This story isn't about me (actually it is, but not ALL about me).
That party was the first time I met him: the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda.

Ooh.

Only he wasn't a Legendary Dark Knight then, he was just a talented scrub with a head full of dreams but no connections. No one had heard of him then. "What!?" I hear you wail. "Never heard of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda?! Preposterous!" But listen darlings, one's career must start from SOMEWHERE.
I walked up to him and grinned. "So, what's your name?" I asked, forgetting my teeth are as sharp as knives and running my tongue across them (it's a reflexive thing when I see attractive devils).
"Sparda." He muttered back, not looking at me.
"You look miserable."
"This entire party is nothing but a waste of time."
I laughed out loud, sounding like a sheep (curse my mother's side) and making him giggle (if he wasn't so cute I would've smashed his head against the wall like an egg). "EVERY party in this place is shit, haven't you realised?!"
"I've lived in the Human world for most of my life with my father. I had no idea." He told me with a sincere smile.
"What does your father do?"
"His gang pillages towns for our emperor. What does YOUR father do?"
"My father is the emperor."
For a second he didn't believe me: he eyed me up and down in a cocky manner that suited him well but then it all sank in, and he made a tiny noise only recognisable as an "eep!".
There was silence for a while, because one wrong sentence and I could've got my soldiers to dunk him into flaming tar. We listened to my father play Nevan (take that as you will, it's Hellish either way), then Sparda summoned up the courage to speak again.
"Have you ever been to the Human World?" he asked casually.
"Once or twice," I replied without much of a care. "But travel does not amuse me."
"What about the moon? It is full and big tonight. Want to see it with me?"
I turned to find my father YODELLING as his claw-like fingers plucked at Nevan. Urge to hurl rising. I turned to Sparda. "Let's go."
***
The moon disappointed me. 'Twas nothing but a pale yellow ball with darker dots suspending in a navy sky. It didn't do tricks like Cerberus or the stand-up routine like Agni and Rudra. It just floated there.
And I had to get myself a human body to see this "magnificent spectre".
"Doesn't the moon DO anything?!" I called to Sparda from the balcony.
He walked out with two cups wine and handed one to me. "Not really," he said truthfully, shrugging. "It's there and it's pretty. Sometimes it moves though. Last week it was there."
I looked over to a patch of sky to my right, before my eyes trailed down his slender hand and arm. I saw his human face for the first time and felt like someone just sucked the air out of me. Everything about him was so pale: his skin was clear and milky, his eyes were a dull grey, his hair was the colour of fresh snow in winter. The moon even gave him a metallic silver aura.
I drank the wine to stop myself staring at him like a moth to a flame. "Wine's not bad..."
"Really? It's very cheap." He downed his own cup in one gulp, and stared at it. He may not have tasted the difference but I certainly did.
"It's not like the wine in the Underworld," I continued, rolling my eyes.
He laughed and grinned, showing straight white teeth. "Come now, EVERYTHING in the Underworld tastes of ash and excrement."
"Including people." I muttered darkly.
He blushed, shading his cheeks a healthy red. "Umm......."
I leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. Why? Because I'm naturally spontaneous. Just because I'm the son of an emperor doesn't mean I think with sense.
Sparda tasted of wine and honey. It was very pleasant.
He pulled away quickly, taking a few steps away from me. He stared into my eyes and I thought he was going to shout some abuse, but instead he brushed a loose strand of hair out of his eyes and smiled weakly.
"I think I've drank too much in one go." He whispered so softly I hardly heard him.
I walked closer; he backed away until the railings stop him going further. His eyes were down and refused to meet my gaze. I leaned in and whispered "you've done this before, haven't you?"
"Yes." He whispered back, shuddering at sensation of my breath on his face; he flinched as my fingers touch his shoulders.
I rolled my eyes. "Liar."
Our lips touched again but this time he kissed me back, trying to be enthusiastic even though he didn't have the faintest idea of what he's doing. My hands slid up and down his arms, trying to register the smoothness of his skin and the hardness of his muscles. I had never touched a human body before.
We made our way back to his room, and I silently thanked the forces which made people evil that everyone else in this municipal Roman house were either asleep or dead.
As we bathed in the moonlight that came from a hole in the wall (Sparda, however, calls it a "window"), I kissed him again, smiling as I felt his strong arms wrap my neck. I kissed him harder...
"Ouch!" he pulled back and touched his bitten lips, examining for blood. There was none, for I am a gentle (ha!) lover. He shook his head at me in mock-disappointment. "Brute."
I pushed him down onto his bed until he's lying on his back with me on top. "Oh, my dear, you've seen nothing yet..."
***
That was the beginning.
As time passed, Sparda opened up to me more and more. He'd question me with strange, Greek philosophical nonsense, or challenge me in friendly competition with the sword (such incidents became annoyingly common when he was accepted to be a Royal Guard). When he came to the Demon World, he'd read old poetry to me until I snatch to book from his hands and kiss him feverishly. Then we'd be occupied for at least half a day. Sometimes we'd go up to the human world to watch the theatre, or animal fights, or simply to eat some food that didn't make us gag.
Sparda loved the human world. Everything about it.
We were happy: we were young and even more carefree. Life was good. Especially waking up next to a still-sleeping Sparda, kissing him awake and hearing him whisper "hello World". Mundus is "world" in Latin; it's a pathetic play on words but it makes me feel like a squeegee cushion inside.
Alas, things began to change when my father died.
For the record, demons cannot die. At least, not unless they are killed in their human form... which is what happened to my father. Please don't give me those glares of suspicion, I assure you I did not murder my father. It was my hired assassins who killed him.
After my father kicked the bucket, he came back down with no powers. This meant he was unable to rule. Which meant I was the new emperor.
I like the way I think.
My rule as emperor was a glorious reign. As a leader I was just and fair, I was in loco parentis to the lost souls, I was a saviour to those who needed saving, and the way I snapped my whip sounded like music. Oh yes, I can also kiss my own ass better than anyone else, alive or dead.
Sparda didn't seem to mind that I was busy, as he was chased around all day as well. In these years gone past, he rose above the ranks and became the greatest soldier in the Underworld army. A legendary knight. I was so proud of him.
Now, I mentioned before that I was a spontaneous creature. It was in that nature that one day I stopped chasing Doppelganger with a lighted torch and thought: "I'm going to take over the human world".
That was the most stupid decision I ever made, but it sounded darn good in my head.
I didn't ask Sparda what he thought about it all, as I knew he didn't want to get involved in the dirty, verbal world of politics. But unfortunately for him (and me), when the Circus Maximus was almost blown apart by a group Hell's Wraths, Sparda just HAD to get involved.
Charging into my study chamber, he started screeching at the top of his vocal chords: "Why in Hell was those things doing there?! The greens were WINNING! The crowd was so happy! But you and your fuck-ugly minions had to RUIN it all!"
I didn't dare tell him that that was just the beginning.
"Oh, I think a little explosion is the LEAST of their troubles." Came a sniggering voice behind me.

Shut up you over-sized bear with wings...

"Mundus? What's Beowulf talking about?"

Sparda, darling, please leave it...

"Emperor Mundus wants to conquer the human world." Came a serious, rather intellectual voice on my other side.

I am SO going to pluck you bald, Griffon...

"WHAT?!" Sparda grabbed my horns and slammed my head against my stone table, breaking the furniture and almost my face.
"Sparda... ow...."
"I won't let you do this!" my demonic lover paced around the roof, waving his arms around like an insect. "The human world is in enough misery without you screwing it up! There's disease, slavery, famines, war, Homer's poetry! Call off the soldiers, you are not taking away the last of the human's shining hope!"
"I can't." I muttered.
"Why. Fucking. NOT?"
"Because the troops are ready. We attack tomorrow."
Before I knew it, my head was slammed against the table again (or what was left of it). I groaned, straightening my broken nose. My eyes met Sparda's, and his orbs were alight with an angry fire.
"I'm going to stop you." he whispered.
"Sparda, you have less chance of winning than the Greeks did when fighting the Persians in the battle at Marathon." Sparda use to give me random historical facts because it boosted his ego knowing he knew more than me.
Sparda smiled in his charming, cocky way. "But the Greeks won." He informed me innocently.
Oh yeah.
***
The next day: show time.
The lower ranking generals (Cerberus, Agni/Rudra, Gigapede -- THAT lot) would stay in Temen-ni-gru, and the building would arise from the ground as suddenly as an erect penis (I blame that sentence on the useless demon-world education system).

I would stay in the Demon world until half the human population was brutally massacred, THEN I'd go up and elect myself as their new leader. No point having an emperor just stand around doing nothing, is there? Besides, there will be plenty of butchering for me to participate in when the humans decide not to choose me as their glorified god, as I was sure they would do (you humans, always wanting the choice of ELECTING your leaders...).
Anyway, there I was in my carriage, being pulled by Geryon towards the gateway, feeling today was going to be alright. Suddenly, a Hell's Vanguard flew up to me and cried out "your majesty, Sparda is guarding the doorway in the underworld and is killing anything that tries to get through!"
Shit.
But Geryon doesn't stop and I make no move to hinder it's cause. Sparda cannot win, it would be impossible. If he defeats my generals he would still have to go through ME. Surely he wouldn't have the heart......
How I was WRONG.
Minions staggered back from the Human world, limping and bleeding all over my nice tiled floor. Those who could speak told me in struggling voices that they were lucky to be alive: Sparda was performing mass genocide out there. And oh, Unholy Mundus, protect us and triumph over this fiend!

That "fiend" is my LOVER, I wanted to hiss, but there was more to worry at hand than defending my beloved traitor. There was the matter of stopping my beloved traitor. Grabbing my sword, I jumped through the gateway and into the human world.
***
There was fire. The whole world seemed ablaze, filling the air with evaporated blood and roasting flesh. Houses that once stood tall were now in a crumbling heap, collapsed on humans and demons alike.
"Ugh, what a dump."
"Hello World. Who's fault do you think that is, then?"
Sparda. Grey eyes hard, armour dripping with blood, cloak fluttering in the wind. His sword came down upon me, but skilfully I blocked him; the clang of metal on metal rang in my ears.
"Why do you love the humans so much?!" I cried, attacking him but missing narrowly.
"Because they are the one thing that hasn't been corrupted by demons!" he shouted back, blocking another one of my hits. "It would be so terrible if they turned out like us, so don't ruin them!"
It was then his turn to strike back. Like a cobra, he kept on pouncing again and again, quick as lighting despite that massive weight of his sword.
"I was going to conquer the human world so I could give it to you!" I lied, because even though I was putting up a good fight, I questioned my ability to last long enough to beat him.
"LIAR!" he roared, furiously charging at me even harder. "You just did it to satisfy yourself, or because you thought it would be fun! You probably didn't even think it through!!"
That guy really knew me.
...and I couldn't believe someone so close would do such a thing. How could he kill all those demons --some of who were actually close companions-- to join forces with a group of inferior mortals who will eventually die anyway?! It really hurt me to see him turn against us, because until now he had supported everything I'd done.
In my second of hesitation, Sparda swung his sword (named rather egotistically after himself) and stabbed me in the stomach.
Our eyes met; time stopped. His dull grey eyes bored into mine, a mix of anger and sorrow, guilt and relief. I smiled at him in defeat.

Hey, it was either you or me, love...

If this was a Disney movie, Sparda would cry crystalline tears for me, he'd whisper his undying love for me as I fall (in slow motion) to the floor. He may even kiss me one last time.
But he doesn't, because it wasn't a Disney movie. Sparda ripped his sword out of my small intestine and with one flick of his wrist, slashed me across the chest. My grip loosened, my own sword fell from my hands; he grabbed it and slammed into my face.
I should have listened to my father and got a smaller sword. The blade punctured me from the top of my skull all the way to halfway down my neck. The iron hit the floor first, and I slid down it like sticky fruit, leaving a thick trail of blood. I could feel blood gushing from my wounds like poured water. Sparda's eyes were still staring into mine, tears forming but not dripping.
Real devils don't cry. Not even for their loved ones.
***
I took half a century to wake up from the assault, and by that time I had fully recovered. The first thought on my mind was a sobbing apology to Sparda, but I dislodged that with a wave of my hand. The next was a rematch, but alas, all those ideas were quite impossible.
The gateway was close:, Sparda sealed it using a trick he learnt from one of his many tattered books. It wouldn't open for two millennia, at least (give or take a few years). My lover had left me to rot in a world where the average temperature was that of boiling water, and everything tasted of shit. Brilliant.
So for two thousand years, I stayed in my realm and ruled my own people. For two thousand years, I strengthened my armies and perfected both my generals and simple soldiers. For two thousand years, I plotted my revenge.
In these two thousand years I never spoke to Sparda once, which was a painful experience on one hand, because ever since we met the longest we've ever been separated for was a week -- but I was also thankful for the absence of contact because I knew if I saw him again, I would rip his guts out.
Actually, I DID see him again. Once, in a photo. My minions took it one day, thinking I may enjoy the sight of the traitor again (I did not ask what my minion was doing with a digital camera...).
Sparda was in human form in the picture, sitting on a couch, flipping absentmindedly through the newspaper. By his feet were two little boys around 7 years old --both with silver hair also-- arguing over a board game involving large sums of paper money and little red houses.
They're his children: Vergil and Dante. Twins. Two snotty-nosed sons.
On the other side couch was a woman with long blonde hair and eyes that glistened with a shrewd twinkle. She put her hands on one of the boy's shoulders, as if to say "come on kids, play nice".
Eva: Sparda's wife. Even now, it hits me like another stab every time I think about it. Sparda, no longer the highest ranking general in the Demon world, but a husband, a father and a hero.
It didn't sound right. He should be with me.
And he will be, because even demons in human form must die. Then where will be only one place he can go --yep, you've guessed it: back into my realm. Stop screaming in sorrow at that thought, even though you humans can never handle truth.
***
It didn't feel that long before he came tumbling down through the gateway, but after spending 2000 years cooped up and being immortal, time is but an illusion.
I didn't know how he died, and in all honesty, couldn't care less. After all that time, he was back to the place he truly belonged, and every the fantasies of revenge would soon come true...
I saw him cough, wiping his mouth and smearing blood. His skin was scratched and some of his teeth were broken. He looked like shit.
"Welcome home, Sparda."
He practically jumped, staring at me with petrified grey eyes. It was the same look he gave me on our first night in his tiny room: when I entered him and he trembled violently in my arms, begging me with his eyes to help him understand this overwhelming sensation he felt inside. Once again I found my breath taken away.
If this was a Disney movie, I would throw down my sword and run to him, taking him into my embrace and apologising. I'd tell him nothing matters except us being together, and that all was forgiven.
But I didn't throw away my sword, because it's been too long a wait and it wasn't Disney. Instead, I dragged my blade along with me, and caught Sparda just as his knees buckled and he fell into my arms. He looked up at me slowly.
"Hello world." He whispered, not daring to smile.
I bent down and kissed him, forcing my tongue into his mouth. He still tasted of wine and honey. I smiled into kiss, hot tears began to sting in my eyes.
But real devils don't cry.
I broke the kiss. "Oh Sparda, I've waited so long..."
And then I ripped out his guts.

The End

A/N: just because I've decided to write a proper fic doesn't mean I've given up on my MST. Fate and Fear will be updated next Monday with TWO chapters! Yay! But alas, I also return to be a full time student next Monday. Where did the summer holiday go? T_T Hope you enjoyed this story! Please leave a review and tell me what you thought about it.
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In The Beginning