TW: There will be mentions of sexual assault and murder (no explicit description) in the historical narration that starts after the first dotted line divider; please know that you've been warned and you can skip if it's a trigger for you.

• Father of Mine by Everclear •

It took a whole night of consoling and recounting of events before Larimar calmed down. Peri's declaration of relationship rushed her through all the stages of grief in a matter of moments. While a curt "you're lying" was characteristic to the first three stages, the last two were accompanied by sobs and a hyperfixation on "I knew he was a monster."

Jade had arrived right in time to witness all the stages and she held Lari's hand through them. Occassionally, the redhead looked up at her childhood friend, throwing her a glare that could make anybody regret their actions immediately, but she had no effect on Peri. "Was this really necessary?" She finally asked, her lour unfaltering.

"Well, somebody had to tell her." Peri shrugged unapologetically, evoking a low, disappointed groan from Maw.

"And I would have told her when I got the chance," Jade stated. "You didn't have to take her by surprise like that."

"Wait." Lari picked her head up from the table, and looked solemnly at her beloved Jade. "You knew about this?" The young Queen looked away, unable to hold Lari's gaze, and quietly, nodded an affirmation.

It brought upon Lari another wave of woe, melting out of her eyes in desparation. "Does Mother know? Is this.. is this common knowledge that my father has a.." she hesitated. "A child.. out of.. wedlock?"

"A child?" Peri interrupted again. "You really don't know anything?" Her eyebrows were knotted on her forehead, nose scrunched with disbelief. A hand reached her shoulder, and squeezed it a little.

Deciding to intervene, Jasper said, "Peri, she has led a sheltered life, a different life from us. I'm sure you can practice some control over your ire, and be more considerate."

They watched Larimar take a deep breath and a dry gulp. She proceeded to move towards the alleged half sister and faced her. She looked Peri straight into her eyes and in the calmest voice Jade had ever heard from her, said, "I want to know everything, tell me everything."

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Being the middle child, Laz II always resented his family for never giving him enough. Enough affection, attention, credit. He resented his parents for not even bothering to come up with a new name for him.

But he proved himself above and beyond every time he was called to action. When it came to protecting their seaside realm from seaside terrors, it was always he who came forward with excellent innovative solutions, bettering these plans every summer. Perhaps it was only the urgency of being recognised and praised that drove him to such heights of excellence.

When he first proposed to his father about venturing out to take neighbouring realms under their control, the heirophant instantly shut him down. His siblings, Azu and Sillia, sided with their father too.

Then came the summer of their father's retirement, the summer of crowning a new governor for Primorska. As was custom, the eldest was decided to be enthroned.

And that was the last straw for the middle child. Laz II put on a mock smile for his family, but when he looked at his sibling, he couldn't see a crown on their head. Only a ligature around their neck.

He thought of it every hour of every day, and as the day of Azu's coronation neared, the image of it burned in his brain. The desire to kill became so, so strong, it wasn't long before Rem showed up to help him out.

Rem, the Keeper of the realm of Death, was expected to show up on earthside only under two circumstances. One, when someone's physical body died and their soul needed to be transported, and two, when an earthling developed a vicious intention to kill another.

True that the first occurrence was daily, hourly even, but Rem was rarely face to face with the second. And she had never before faced a bloodlust of that magnitude. The conversation they had haunted her for years.

"That's not how that works," she had said, when Laz had proposed a deadly deal.

"I know for a fact that it does," the then young man had returned. "I sacrifice a life to you, and you save my body once. That is how it works, right?"

Rem's thin lips twitched at his conjecture. "Earthlings use it to save people. Throughout history, this deal has only been used under dire, and only medically unavoidable circumstances. I've never seen one like you, killing your own kin. And, for what? A crown?"

"I don't care about history. I'll rewrite it. Fifty years from now, lessons would be taught about Laz, the Greatest Conqueror, not Azu, the Governor of Primorska."

Rem could not believe his words. She could see his intentions like a fire under a moonless sky. She could see the future that this one deal would bring forth - the numerous souls of soldiers and civilians she'd have to carry to her realm, the blood that Laz would paint earthside red with.

She heard him speak. "You can't deny me, I know that. If I make the sacrifice, you must protect me. A life for a life, isn't it?"

Death sighed. It was true that if an earthling ever desired to sacrifice a life in order to save another, Death could not deny the request. However, such sacrifices were only made in the throes of wanting to save one's lover, one's child, one's parent and sometimes while choosing between a dying baby and their dying mother. Never to save oneself. To think that a mortal would use it for their own benefit - that was unimaginable for Rem.

But bound by the rules, she granted Laz II his wish. And when he crept into his older sibling's chambers and emptied an entire vial of poppeine into their drink, Rem stood witness.

She watched Azu sip on their drink, unknowingly slipping through the layers of consciousness. Rem waited for them in the corner of their room, and when the soul escaped the mortal body, she was there to pick them up and guide them to a better place.

And when Laz died the first time, at the hands of Verda of Jahima, she brought him back to life. But not by choice.

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Laz II, even though he made it seem like he doted on his daughter, never actually trusted her to inherit the kingdom that he had fought tooth and nail to acquire. He didn't believe a woman was capable of running a kingdom, and openly expressed his doubts about the realms falling back into their separated states of administration under her control. Such doubts were especially aggravated when she grew into a mild natured, introverted young woman, and kept mostly to herself.

Nevertheless, he had started plotting towards his goal of having a male born heir ever since his daughter was a few months old. He first started by summoning the Empress Vivian to their bed with loving flirtation, and if and when she refused, those same acts of charm transformed into forceful agression. Vivian tolerated his actions for a limited period of time like a "good wife" that she was taught to be, but she soon started to protest.

When her refusals and uncooperative tendencies got to him, Laz decided it was time to set his plans of taking over all the earthside realms under his control and, with that, look for a male heir elsewhere.

He never visited any brothel in his home realm, for fear of being judged by people who had watched him grow up and will watch his daughter grow up. But every other realm he set foot in and conquered, he also became a munificent patron of the entertainment district there.

He made it a rule in every whorehouse he visited to not let the sex worker sleep with another male customer for at least a few weeks. Needless to say, he paid heartily. He even promised the workers of making them queens if they birthed him boys.

He'd scour a realm's treasure every time he conquered one, and spent it all on gambling, spirits and sex. Eventually, words of his expedition reached the ears of the would be Empress Vivian. However, the letters she would send to get him to return to Primorska would never receive a reply.

In due course, he started receiving mails from the bordellos. Most of these letters bore the news of the workers to be with children. It took him some time, and some guidance from a particularly notorious Arcana, but he realized that in any realm, no more than one of his protégés was enceinte. And months later, every single one of them had children assigned female at birth.

"I can tell," Laz heard the faint clip-clop of hooves behind him one night, and then a faint, hot breath on his neck, and words nuanced by an accent of a different realm. Malach came so close that his fur rubbed on Laz's skin, and he whispered. "I can tell whose work this is."

"Who? Who is it?" Laz turned to the Arcane, curious, the glittery liquid in his glass twinkling in the candles' light. He saw him quickly stepping in the shadows of curtains, visible only because of the Moon's light striking off his attire and horns.

Malach wore a long black trench coat with a black vest. He had the face of a goat, but actually on further inspection, he probably was a full goat. The white fur on his chest was an escape artist, and a very bad one at that, spilling profusely from the top of his white shirt, and from between the buttons. He wore gloves and refused to shake hands, and his shoes were an odd design, indicating to the fact that he was possibly hooved. His horns were black, resembling a starless night, and his eyes red, like the blood of a human sacrifice.

"You know what I think? You want a piece of my mind? I don't think Sage likes you. You know who Sage is, right? The World! Actually, you're none of the Major Arcanas' favorite. Well, none except.. would you like to take a guess? It's.. yes, yes, me, I'm talking about me."

The soon-to-be Emperor only rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you enthused that The Devil is on your side?" Laz watched Malach's shoulders go up in a shimmy.

"The others aren't as.. what's the word? Far-sighted? Visionaries! They aren't visionaries like we are. They are content in their separate realms, they each sit on their individual thrones, and it never occurs to them that they can have their neighbour's throne too. But I.. I think about it all the time. I want to rule all of Arcana, I want to be the ruler of all Arcane realms."

The Devil smiled, his mouth opening up to show a full set of sharp, yellowed teeth. The red of his eyes spoke of war, and when they met the blue of Laz's, they were a sea of blood.

"I see myself in you, Laz. You want everything for yourself. And, so do I. Do you think we can join hands and conquer? You on earthside, and me on the Arcaneside. We'll be the rulers, and we'll have authority over anything and everything. Sounds great, doesn't it?"

"You want a deal?" Laz asked, poking a pinkie in his ear.

"Precisely."

And so was the start of Malach's elaborate plan for taking over the Arcane realms for himself. For a long, long time he had been trapped in the body of a goat - not a humanoid goat, a full-fledged goat. He wanted his old body back, and with that, chaos.

The five highest Major Arcanas had seen to it that Malach's appearance could be in no way appealing to any earthling. Mainly to keep the innocent people from ever being tempted to hold a deal with him. And ever since, he had been on the lookout for a mortal ever so distorted, an easy target. And, Laz was one.

Even after Laz was successful at bringing the whole of earthside under his thumb, Malach continued scaring him. He weaved stories of the other Arcanas plotting against the Emperor, and advised him to renew his deal with Death.

"I don't know anyone else I can sacrifice," Laz told him as they sat facing each other, discussing. The Emperor had designated a special room at the Paláti tis Metensárkosis, for his meetings with Malach. He called it his study, but the shelves were adorned not with books, but booze.

The Devil chuckled. "Are you sure?" He asked, hiding his smirk under his gloved hoove.

Laz nodded, prompting him to continue. "What about the daughters you have no use for?"

"I have no use for any of my daughters." The Emperor took in a long inhale from the pipe he held at his lips, and held it for a while, washing his throat and lungs with the smoke, before releasing it.

"Then give them away." Malach suggested. "One by one."

It took Laz II less than a day to consider the idea and agree to it. And since then, he made his study accessible to one more person - Kunz, his royal executioner.

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A/N: poppeine is equivalent to morphine, the overdose of which can be fatal in the absence of an antidote

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