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The name is pronounced "Ah-zuh-ry-us", last name "Veh-sell-kuh".

I was the "Apprentice" of the story. My ending involved taking the Devil's place in the Arcana realms indefinitely. I had a chinchilla familiar named Cecil who stayed in the Arcana realms with me for the most part except when I needed to relay a message to the others in the mortal realms and vice versa.

I was a sorcerer, not a magician. They may as well have been two words to describe the same thing, but my cultural background was much different than Asra's when it came to views on magic. He was born and raised in Zadith, a place where magic and science were valued equally, whereas I grew up in Firent, a theocracy that praised magic users who received their gifts from "God" and spurned those who didn't. Anyone who learned magic any other way than divine worship was considered a blasphemous heretic and called a "sorcerer", as opposed to the well-revered priests. I took pride in my label as a sorcerer as it set me apart from the fanatical zealotry of my people. I hated it when people called me a "witch" or "magician". It took me a long time to get comfortable with Asra using it as a label for himself and to understand why he was okay with people calling him that.

I developed a relationship with both Asra and Julian, though that unfortunately didn't last long once I became the Devil. Before that, though, things were really good. I loved them both so much. I think Asra was on the ace spectrum. I just remember that our relationship was significantly less sexual than my relationship with Julian and that was A-okay. We didn't need it to show that we loved each other, whereas sex was a big part of Julian's love language.

There are still some gaps in my memory. My timeline didn't follow any one route in particular, but rather was a combination of routes and some other details. It seemed to incorporate themes from Julian's and Asra's routes the most, but I also remember binding Lucio's ghost to myself and stumbling through the Arcana Realm with him, as well as a brief interlude involving Valerius trying to overthrow Nadia... Yeah, that was something. But let's start with the details I do remember clearly.

I was born in Firent to parents who were blindly devout to the divine patrons who ruled the nation through the Papess. I had always had my suspicions of such governing practices, but I was too young back then to have any weight in a discussion about it with my parents. It was this that drove me toward the study of magic, desiring to find the meaning behind my parents' worship, but while the priests and priestesses taught me what they could, I never got my spark until I turned away from their God and drew from the magic in the world around me instead.

My parents weren't exactly enthused by my discovery. They insisted that it was still a gift from their God, that it just found me in a unique way, but I didn't hold the same convictions. Unfortunately, the last meaningful interactions we had with each other involved a heated argument over the very same topic before the Red Plague reached them. I tried in vain to take them to the island of Sirenia where the Papess had retreated for safety, but they denied us entry, leaving my parents to rot outside its walls. It was then that I officially, beyond a shadow of a doubt, lost my faith in God.

Before they passed, my parents told me of an aunt I had who lived in Vesuvia and would take me in. I still wasn't of age yet, so I had no choice but to travel to Vesuvia when my parents inevitably passed away. My aunt, Eliana, taught me everything she knew about magic, as well, raising me into a powerful sorcerer without the help of any gods. When I came of age, I began to travel, partly so that I could acquire rare herbs and the like for my aunt's shop, and partly so that I could broaden my magical horizons and attempt to find a way to stop the Red Plague that continued to ravage the world around us.

I continued to visit Aunt Eliana frequently, delivering ingredients and helping her run her shop, attending one or two of the spectacular masquerades celebrating the Count Lucio's birthday, meeting Asra and falling in love for the first time. He was such a lovely vision in his gossamer and silks and hair as soft as clouds and those perfect, cupid bow lips—I was helplessly at his mercy by the end of the first night. It was a welcome surprise to learn that he was a magician in his own right. He was the one who taught me the art of Tarot, something I had only come across in passing at cheap roadside attractions and festivals with fake fortune tellers.

Although our respective reasons for travelling often kept us apart, it was always a treat to get his letters or find him helping Aunt Eliana in her shop when I returned. The scarce time we found to spend together never failed to be a magical experience. Distance really could do a harsh number on one's libido when they were missing someone.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. One day, I returned to Vesuvia to find that the Red Plague had reared its ugly head in none other than my aunt. I had seen traces of it elsewhere, tried to no avail to heal its victims with my magic, but I had never anticipated it would come to Vesuvia, let alone hook its claws into my last living relative. I spent her last days by her side, tending to her and making her as comfortable as I could until she drew her last breath.

This was what spurred me to hunt down a cure for the Red Plague. I wasn't able to save my aunt, but I would be damned if I sat idly by while the voracious disease continued to feast upon the world at large. I wrote to Asra to give him the grave news and tell him what I hoped to achieve. I set off once more in search of an answer, but found the same thing every other foolish scientist and healer found: nothing. Asra's letters kept coming in waves, though, begging me to come back home before I inherited my aunt's fate.

Reluctantly, only to appease his worries and assure him that I was perfectly healthy, I returned to Vesuvia, only to find him packing away all of our belongings. He insisted that we had to flee the city and get ahead of the plague—he mentioned seeking refuge on the island of Sirenia, which still stood tall as one of the last bastions against the spread of the disease. I told him, under no uncertain terms, that I refused to take the coward's path when there was still research to be done, discoveries to be made, people to help and to heal. Unfortunately, this was one topic we couldn't agree on. We raised our voices at each other until we were both blue in the face, and then Asra left on his own, telling me to come find him when I had come to my senses.

Needless to say, that never happened on account of my death. For the next two years, I kept looking for my answer, eventually finding myself under the tutelage of Doctor Julian Devorak. I never much cared for medicine and science since I had always relied on my magic, but I quickly learned that there was much more to the practice than the extent to which magic could reach. I studied under him as his apprentice, both of us equally hellbent on finding a cure. Tragically, it was this single-mindedness that led to my demise. As much as Julian remained ignorant of my growing symptoms when the Red Plague came for me, I, too, neglected my health in order to continue my research. A part of me knew, even then, that it didn't matter whether anyone knew I was sick or not. The cure was still well out of reach. All that I cared about was contributing what I could in the meantime. This was why I decided not to write to Asra about it; he didn't need to suffer with the knowledge of my death after the way we had left things.

Of course, I had forgotten about all of this once Asra made the deal to resurrect me. Without a single memory to my name—including my name itself, which Asra had to give me—I had to piece myself back together with Asra's help. Once equals, I was now his apprentice to re-learn my magic. Thankfully, most things came back easily, but it was still a bit of a learning curve. I was lucky that I still had him, that he still cared about me so much, even though some things about our new relationship, once I remembered the past, eventually left a bitter taste in my mouth. Luckily for him, I was still just as helpless to fall in love with him the second time as the first.

At that point, though, I had doubts that my feelings would be reciprocated. He always kept a certain distance between us, retreating every time something was about to spark, and it left me worried that he merely pitied me. Me, the poor amnesiac who constantly followed him around like a lost puppy because he was the first person I had seen when I woke up and the single lifeline I had. I began to wonder if my own feelings were merely some type of idealistic worship as the result of his help re-introducing me to the world.

When I met Julian (again), I let those doubts get the better of me. I figured that if I couldn't have Asra, then I simply had to move on, and Julian was a welcome distraction. He was fun and witty and smart and charming and, gods, that body. At first it was all purely physical, or at least that's what I had told myself. Julian Devorak, however, was insanely difficult not to fall for. If I took one step back, he took two steps forward, and when he started to doubt himself and stumble, I came running like an addict to catch him.

It was a dangerous, enthralling dance, but that didn't make it easy. The harder I fell for Julian, the less I could ignore my feelings for Asra. It felt wrong to keep it from him, so I told him, preparing for the worst. Surprisingly, Julian took the news in stride, confiding in me about his own past fling with Asra and how, despite their relationship being emotionally one-sided, he still thought fondly of Asra. I, on the other hand, was miffed to learn about how Asra had treated him, even though Julian had almost certainly downplayed the events. At the time, I had only known Asra as kind and doting, if a bit withdrawn, so I couldn't imagine why or how he could have been so cold to someone like Julian.

As much as I wanted to find out the reason, I had a feeling Asra wouldn't give it up so easily. Rather than try to force it out of him, then, I instead proposed an idea to Julian. We both still had feelings for Asra, and Asra was at least somewhat attracted to Julian and I knew there was some underlying tension in his feelings for me, so what could it hurt if we both tried to court him?

It started out as just a silly little side-quest in the grand scheme of the trials we were facing; I wasn't wholly convinced it would even work. As the events of our convoluted lives unfolded, however, Julian and Asra were more or less forced to work together anyway, and while Asra dug his heels in at first, he gradually began to respect Julian and, dare I say it, even like him a little bit.

At some point I found the time to confess to Asra in the midst of everything. It was a difficult conversation, given the circumstances at the time, and though he finally admitted to returning my feelings (in his cryptic, roundabout way), he lamented that those feelings were wasted because I was with Julian. I was thrilled to give him the good news that that was an easy problem to fix, considering Julian also still cared for him. Asra was apprehensive, of course, still on the table about how he felt about Julian, but he was willing to give it a try. I was blindsided by how quickly everything fell into place after that. It all felt perfect, as if that's how it was always meant to be.

It should go without saying that Portia did not miss a single opportunity to squeal and tease us over all the "unnecessary drama" that led up to it, as well as the embarrassing hijinks that followed.

When it came time to bind the Devil, I knew it wouldn't be enough, or at least that I would never rest peacefully knowing that one day, perhaps long after we were gone, the Devil would break free and wreak havoc upon an unsuspecting world. I couldn't allow that to happen in good conscience, so instead of using our combined magic to bind him, I used it to attack the Devil directly. Of course, our magic alone wasn't enough to destroy him, but we were connected to the Arcana, and the Arcana readily answered our plea. Their strength flowed through us, through me, and eviscerated the Devil. All the while, my friends tried to stop me, pleading with me not to go through with it, but I was deaf to their warnings. We were all brought to our knees from the influx of magical power we had just summoned, most of all myself, who had gathered it all inside me. Against their better judgement, they were forced to give me the Devil's heart to save my life, effectively making me into the new Devil Arcana.

Needless to say, no one was especially enthusiastic about my decision, but what was done was done. I had replaced the Devil in the Arcana and there was no reversing that. I had tried to pacify them with the fact that nobody would ever have to worry about the Devil returning to wreak havoc again, but of course they had none of it. Asra and Julian vowed to find a way to release me, or at least a way to allow me to cross over to the mortal realm with my physical body, but I didn't keep my hopes up. I was happy enough when they would come to visit me in the Devil's realm that I now ruled, where we could still travel amoung the Arcana Realms to our hearts' content. At one point they foolishly tried to tell me they would stay there with me, but I couldn't allow that.

On the bright side, becoming the Devil awakened all of the memories I had lost without the life-threatening headaches to accompany them. I could remember everything and, while that did make the separation more painful, I was glad for the relief of knowing. It was a heavy weight, one I had thought I would burden for the rest of my life, suddenly lifted off my shoulders. I could remember the years I spent by Asra's side, my time as an apprentice to Julian during the plague, the masquerades I had attended, my aunt, my parents. I felt whole again, a feeling I hadn't known for a long, long time.

Ever since Asra had resurrected me, I had been cursed with an unusually potent disposition toward sensing the presence of departed souls. This had made it especially easy for Lucio to invade my mind and latch onto me as a magical anchor to the mortal realm, but that's besides the point. Since coming back to life, I rarely got any sleep due solely to the fact that each time I did sleep I was plagued with nightmares of the dead. Coupled with every waking moment being tormented with glimpses of shadows in the corners of my vision and whispers in my head I couldn't turn off made for a very tired, very anxious sorcerer. There were times when I was just downright prickly due to sleep deprivation. All of this ceased to be once I became the Devil, allowing me the luxury of total peace and quiet for the first time in my (second) life. It was utterly blissful.

There were some things I did that I still regret. For instance, binding Lucio to myself. I'll be the first to admit it was a rash and impulsive decision, especially since I didn't bother consulting anyone else first, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I didn't want him roaming the Palace and plaguing Nadia's nightmares or getting up to whatever dastardly trouble he would have had he been allowed to linger in his old wing.

Luckily we managed to free Lucio by destroying the chains that bound him to the deals of his past and returning his spirit to his own body from within the Lazaret. For all that we had gone through to get him to that point, though, he became understandably wary of me after I replaced the Devil Arcana, skeptical of being lured into another dangerous deal. He regarded me with suspicion and even a note of fear, if I weren't mistaken, any time we were in each other's presence. It kind of hurt, in a way, seeing as I had thought we almost had a shot at being friends at one point.

Eventually Asra and Julian had devised a way for me to cross into the mortal realm temporarily by way of a summoning ritual that gave me a twenty-four hour window in which manifest physically. This ritual required the combined energies of those who shared a strong connection with the Arcana, so it was rare that they could gather enough of our friends together to perform the ritual—not to mention how draining it was on their magic—but that made it all the more special.

Over time, though, it became increasingly clear to me that I was never meant to hold on to my humanity forever. Being one of the Major Arcana meant the very opposite—my responsibilities, my purpose far exceeded that of trivial mortal affairs like maintaining relationships. At first, I felt the heartbreak and guilt, but that, too, faded with time. Eventually I stopped answering the summons of my lovers altogether. When they came looking for me, I went to great lengths to keep them at bay, but still they found a way to confront me. At that point, I had nothing more to tell them than that I could no longer feel what they felt. A part of me still felt sympathy—I still held them near and dear, after all, but what once was "love" had shifted to something more akin to fondness.

I hated to break their hearts this way, but it was always inevitable. I knew that Asra, at least, had seen it coming. I could see it in his eyes: resignation, as opposed to Julian's freshly bleeding heart. I could offer no words of comfort or reassurance. I can't remember ever seeing or hearing from Julian again, but Asra still kept in touch, scarcely, only because of his connection to the cards. Sometimes, once in a blue moon, he would visit and we would chat like old friends, but there was always a distinct indifference to it, just as there was always a fleeting glimmer of hope and adoration in his aura, as if some buried part of him still cared for me. Then again, I doubt he would have ever stopped caring after all he had done for my sake.

While my former lovers grew more distant, however, Lucio, surprisingly enough, grew closer. I had taken the role of his patron, so it was only natural that he would reach out to me, consciously and subconsciously. He was never very savvy with magic and so travelling to the Arcana Realms wasn't really something he sought on his own, but occasionally he would call to me in a dream, like so many of my other mortal proteges, and every so often he would try to strike a deal. Seemingly harmless deals, of course, but deals all the same. He hadn't changed that much during our short-lived time together, after all, and now that his previous bonds had been broken, he had no qualms creating new ones for himself. I, unlike my predecessor, only agreed to deals that I knew he could fulfill, and once he got a taste for what he could accomplish through my help, he was quick to shake off his distrust for me.

Things didn't happen exactly as they did in canon. He never usurped Nadia to reclaim his title as Count of Vesuvia, nor charged into war to conquer in my name, but when Vesuvia eventually did find itself under threat, Lucio was the valiant hero who vanquished their enemies. When Valerius tried to overthrow Vesuvia to rule it in his own vision, it was Lucio who stopped him. When the pirates of Hjalle laid siege to their shores, Lucio fearlessly led the charge against them and drove them away. For every new story under his belt, he placed another chain in my hand. At some point I suspected he began to do it intentionally just to have an excuse to come to me. I won't beat around the bush—we were definitely fucking on the side. He knew that I couldn't love him, though, and what he felt for me was little more than an infatuation with power manifested into some distorted semblance of affection and lust.

The old me would have felt guilty and disgusted for falling into the metaphorical bed with someone like Lucio, especially after what he did to Julian and Asra, but the person—creature—I was at that time was far from human. All that I felt was a selfish satisfaction that soon I would have Lucio's soul in my hand instead of his many chains. I had designs on making him my daemon, and whether he suspected it or not, he fell for it through and through. By that point he had burned every bridge around him, anyway. He almost seemed happy to belong to me in some official capacity. While I still could never love him, I could honestly say he was my favourite pet.