《The Colour of Your Heart》 0 - Prologue Prologue Beelzebub gasped in astonishment as he stared at his hands. He had failed. His body had failed him. ¡®Are you quitting, son?¡¯ Satan¡¯s deep voice echoed from somewhere. Wild-eyed, Beelzebub searched, but all he could see was the Red mist circling and closing in. He had to regain control, somehow, but his hands trembled and his head pounded. He heaved and groaned in frustration. ¡®Father! I can¡¯t¡­ W-what¡¯s happening?¡¯ Beelzebub screamed and held his head. He fell to his knees in indescribable agony. The Hall doors were thrown open, and the boy rushed in: Lucious. Mammon, his wolf servant, followed closely. Lucious screamed and reached at nothing as his wolf servant held him steady. Approaching Beelzebub in that mess would be close to suicide. But Beelzebub could not hear his younger brother¡¯s pleas over his own. The pain intensified. And then his skin cracked. Writhing on the floor as if on fire, Beelzebub¡¯s transformation began. Clothes ripped as he grew in size with muscles that shredded his skin. He bled. His hands twisted in unnatural ways, his fingers became claws and new thick, sharp nails grew, ripping apart the old ones. His tormented screams became beastly growls as his face too changed. As his mouth grew wide and long, his teeth fell along with a mix of saliva and blood giving place to sharp fangs. Finally, his once beautiful light brown eyes bulged and became pure red. The stench of blood and raw flesh took over the chamber. Mammon watched in horror as he still gripped his young master. He tried to cover young Lucious¡¯ eyes with his hands but the boy wouldn¡¯t have it as he continued to shout pleas and cries for his brother¡¯s name. No one could stop this. Satan approached with slow steps. His heavy hooves were loud enough to drown Beelzebub¡¯s agonising growls. Satan paused in front of his son, unreadable as he watched the Red consume him. Lucious stopped crying, expectant, desperate. He even smiled at Mammon and the servant nodded in a short reassurance. Satan was the ultimate ruler or Hell, creator of the Colours. He had to be the one to stop this. Even Beelzebub, drowning in his misery, pleaded with groans as he reached up to his father. He had learnt his lesson. He would do anything to be relieved of this torture; to be forgiven. In a fluid and unseen motion, Satan sliced down. Along with a heavy thud, Lucious¡¯ hopeful smile vanished, giving room only to paralysing dismay. A split second went by before Beelzebub cut the silence and twisted with horrific howls, making Lucious flinch from his confusion. His brother clung to his missing arm and wriggled away from his father in horror. The lord of Hell had hardened and sharpened his arm to such a state that it became a blade that could cut through anything. Lucious somehow shook himself free from Mammon and ran towards the bloody scene. An astonished Mammon fell back. He must¡¯ve been too caught in the terror unfolding in front of him. It was unthinkable otherwise for a boy to shake a wolf¡¯s grip with such ease. Before he could grab hold of him again, it was already too late. Lucious had already moved to his brother¡¯s side. His slight frame guarding Beelzebub before their father struck again. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡®Boy, move.¡¯ Satan uttered. ¡®No! Please, stop this, father! I beg you!¡¯ ¡®You¡­ beg me?¡¯ Satan rose his eyebrow. ¡®Please! You''re the only one who can stop it. He is my brother!¡¯ ¡®And he is my firstborn. A disappointment. He is lost to the Red, can you not see? Get away from there. You¡¯re disgusting me with this begging.¡¯ ¡®No! No! You can save him. Bring him back!¡¯ ¡®Bring him back? Boy, this is the Test. He failed. He is unfit to rule. There are no second chances. Do you not understand? And why do I have to explain myself to you?¡¯ Lucious couldn¡¯t hold back his tears. This felt hopeless. ¡®Look at you, all weak-willed. You show weakness in front of me, boy? Disgusting!¡¯ Satan spat the words out. Mammon moved swiftly towards his young charge; He had sensed coming. But Satan hesitated and studied his youngest son further. It had been enough for the transformed Beelzebub to slash Lucious¡¯ back and leap away. Satan did not give chase. Mammon had been quick enough to grab Lucious before he fell on the floor, but the young prince was already unconscious in his arms. Beelzebub stopped at the stairs leading out of the chamber and still clutched his missing limb. He shook his head, as if attempting to find some focus. His gaze trailed to his unconscious brother. ¡®L-L¡­ Lu¡­ Luci...¡¯ He shook his head again. A distorted voice that came out. Words were hard to form through a mouth that was not his own. Thoughts were muddy and hard to keep. Beelzebub howled in frustration. A long painful howl that made Mammon¡¯s skin crawl. And then he was gone. Satan looked down at Mammon. ¡®Wolf, this boy chose you as his mentor, did he not?¡¯ Mammon bowed his head over Lucious. ¡®An honour I will never forget, Your highness.¡¯ He replied. ¡®Mm. He is weak. I cannot have another weak son.¡¯ Silence. Mammon felt a cold sweat break from his back. The heavy hooves moved away from them. ¡®Make sure he gets rid of all that sentimentality. Everyone has coddled him too much. He will have to prove himself worthy of the test.¡¯ Mammon remained bent over his young master and held him tight. His hands felt wet and then he saw the blood. He trembled, but after frantic inspections of Lucious back, he noted that the blood was already stopping and the wounds closing. But the three long scars remained. Lucious stirred and when Mammon looked at Lucious¡¯ face, he saw it wet with tears. ¡®Mammon.¡¯ Lucious¡¯ weak voice had his full attention. ¡®Try not to speak Lucious. I will take you to the elders for healing. Rest.¡¯ ¡®I have to bring him back.¡¯ ¡®Bring him back¡­ Beelzebub?¡¯ Lucious nodded. ¡®We will certainly try, my young master, but first let¡¯s-¡¯ Lucious reached for Mammon¡¯s collar. ¡®No! Not try! I have to bring him back.¡¯ He was weak, sustained only by his own will. Just then Mammon thought he saw a flash of Red in Lucious¡¯ eyes. Impossible. He was only 12 years old, with barely formed horns on his head. ¡®Lucious, please just calm down for a moment and let¡¯s leave this chamber, the Red in here is too-¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s my fault! I did this to Beel. I must make it right.¡¯ ¡®What do you mean, it¡¯s your fault?¡¯ ¡®I¡­ we talked about him taking the Test and I pushed him to it. I told him he was ready!¡¯ The child sobbed. Mammon¡¯s heart ached as he struggled to find his words. ¡®No, no, don¡¯t say that. Do you not know your own brother? He always follows his own thoughts. He chose this path and to take the Test. This was just an unfortunate and unexpected turn of events. Surely your father will bring him back. He¡¯s just setting an example to dissuade others from taking the Test unprepared.¡¯ ¡®Mammon, help me. Promise me you will help me get him back.¡¯ Lucious searched Mammon¡¯s face for an answer. There it was again; The Red in the boy¡¯s eyes. ¡®Promise me now!¡¯ He squeezed Mammon¡¯s collar. The piercing anger, the aggression that had never been there before, had now taken root and replaced the innocence like it never was. Mammon lowered his head in submission. ¡®Of course, Master. My life is yours to use however you wish.¡¯ Lucious loosened his grip and gave in to his slumber. The distant howls of Beelzebub¡¯s rampage echoed as he left a trail of blood and slaughter throughout Hell¡¯s Royal kingdom. He was nothing but another one of Satan¡¯s children lost to the Colours. Chapter 1 - Different Times, Different Lives Different Times, Different Lives Twelve years Later A wide eyed Mara stared at the white ceiling of her bedroom. As if moving hadn¡¯t been bothersome enough, her mother had to come to inspect the flat too. This was the last drop in her cup of patience. But she reluctantly admitted that this was her own fault; She had put this visit off for too long with poor excuses she knew could never fool her mother. If it hadn¡¯t been for her father secretly warning her from the train station, they would¡¯ve just showed up unannounced! She shivered at the thought. Her only reprieve was that it would be a day''s visit. She would get to see her father too, who she actually missed. So there were some positives. But to top them all, and unlike many that suffered their mothers¡¯ controlling scrutinies, Mara was thankful that she could not hear a word her mother said. She shook her head in helplessness. To think that at twenty-four years of age she would be relieved to be deaf, just to survive her mother¡¯s audit on her newly rented flat. It was not something she would be keen to boast to anyone. She sighed for possibly the hundredth time and caressed Shiro¡¯s furry head resting on her stomach. She had planned so much for this day. With her upcoming exhibition, she wanted nothing but isolation in her studio. She had even woken up at a decent hour, looking forward to a perfect day. She was one of those who loved taking advantage of a full day. Even Look out at the sunrise with a hot mug of coffee, planning her day. Or so she wished. In reality, she¡¯d only been able to perform such a feat less than a handful of times in her adult life. Sleep was, after all, an essential part of a young adult and she loved it. Mara also loved being a morning person¡­ but only sometimes. It was hard for a nocturnal painter. And the night was her friend; She had always done her best work at night. It was always a constant raging war between her wishes and her love. Being a working adult was hard! Yes, she considered herself one of the lucky ones: An outstanding Art graduate from Kanazawa University, with job offers from prestigious companies right after graduation, one of which was overseas. She had the luxury of refusing many so she could move to Tokyo and focus on her own projects. Still, she needed income, so she settled for some freelance illustrations for a large magazine in Shinjuku. This gave her all the freedom she needed. Now an independent and accomplished artist in her own right, even her uncompromising mother couldn¡¯t wish for more. But of course, she always did. Now talks of marriage popped up out of nowhere. The sneaky introductions to family friends and their respective, very single sons. It was getting dangerous. Mara cringed. This was a negative from her Mother¡¯s visit. She had moved to Tokyo to get away from it all, but apparently, it was not far enough. Still, given her disability and her aversion to human interaction, she was secretly proud of herself. Who needed a husband when she had already accomplished one of her major dreams? Her art was alive and in people¡¯s hearts; she still used the pseudonym Rha, but she had fans and followers who went out of their way to get her art; and her very first exhibition in Tokyo was about to happen. And she was going to be there, no longer as Rha, but just as Mara. She couldn¡¯t have done without Haru¡¯s support, she knew, and she would be forever grateful to him. His encouraging words rang in her mind: no matter what, her smile could never break the world, so she should just keep using it. She still struggled with the smile part, but she was certainly making headway. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Enough! She jolted herself. The stirring made Shiro jump with excitement. Perhaps breakfast was on his mind. She gave him another gentle caress and sat up. The day needed to be re-planned. But first, coffee, coffee, more coffee. Then some flash cleaning. She rubbed her eyes as she rubbed her thoughts away. There was still a lot to do, but nothing seemed to appeal. The bright rays of sunshine that broke through her blinds protested against her negative thoughts and teased her with the promise of a beautiful day in Tokyo. They clearly didn¡¯t know her mother. ¡®It¡¯s a small Oto-san! What did I say? Everything in Tokyo is small. They call this a city flat? But I mean, why is it shaped so oddly?? The bed is up there and there¡¯s a ladder to get to it. A ladder! And the kitchen. There is nothing there! It¡¯s just little counter-top. Is she supposed to live on *Konbini food? Is this one of those they call ¡®open-plan¡¯ nowadays? How much is the rent in this place, anyway?¡¯ Mara couldn¡¯t hear, but she was an expert lip-reader. On purpose she avoided to look at her mother so not to allow any of the shrieking in. Mr Takeda nodded and directed a reassuring smile at his daughter. Mara preferred to think that he too sometimes wished he were deaf. ¡®Mara!¡¯ her mother called to attention by grabbing her arm. Mrs Takeda knew sign language, but she much preferred the sound of her own voice. ¡®Your room is your room! You need to make space for the bed properly. A Futon would¡¯ve been much better, actually.¡¯ Mara signed, ¡®It is only temporary. I¡¯ll move them later.¡¯ ¡®Yes, but I mean, you could at least keep it tidy. Besides, I thought you said this flat had another room. Wasn¡¯t that supposed to be your studio?¡¯ Mara shrugged and moved toward her small kitchenette. ¡®Shall I make us some tea?¡¯ It was her weak attempt of an escape. ¡®Where are you making it? In that thing you call kitchen?¡¯ A big, exaggerated sigh from Mara said that her patience was running very thin. ¡®I like it.¡¯ Mr Takeda added before she could counter. It was enough to interrupt the ranting flow, but it did not spare him from the accusatory look his wife gave him. ¡®I would only maybe add more plants, make it greener. It certainly has the space for it. Oka-san, you know how kids are today. Especially artist types like Mara. It¡¯s only her first home. She has done well for herself.¡¯ Mrs Takeda rolled her eyes, but she let it drop with one last note. ¡®You two are impossible. Tell me, where is the bathroom?¡¯ Mara busied herself with making the tea, stopping only to sign with her father. ¡®Is the shop doing well?¡¯ ¡®Ah, well enough. The new youngster is doing well. We wouldn¡¯t have come if it weren¡¯t for him, but you know Oka-san really¡­ uh¡­¡¯ he paused as if searching for the right word. ¡®Oka-san has trained him well.¡¯ Mr Takeda nodded. ¡®You mean she tortured him well?¡¯ Her father only gave a gentle smile. ¡®Our customers miss you. Your cousins too. Riku-chan is always asking how long will you be until you come back.¡¯ Mara¡¯s expression softened. There was no accusation there. His calming demeanour always comforted her and took her back home and to her childhood. She knew he only missed her. She missed him too; their home; the greenery in their garden, and she dearly missed her rowdy cousins. They were the young siblings she never had. But she had to try this on her own. Her art had reached a level she had never dreamed of and she was now about to debut; to come out from the safety of her anonymity, from behind Rha. Not seen as Mara Takeda, the inward, deaf and awkward half-breed from Kanazawa, but just as Mara, the artist. She wanted, no, she needed to see how far she could go. Her quiet expression must¡¯ve reflected her thoughts as her father said, ¡®You did the right thing in coming here, Ma-chan. Yes, everyone misses you, but everyone supports you even more. Oka-san too, you know. In her own way. Everyone is looking forward to seeing more of your incredible art.¡¯ His smile widened at the last as he nodded to himself. He knew her inside out. The sense of gratitude and love she felt for her father was overwhelming. He was always on her side, always her quiet but strongest supporter. She has never shown her appreciation and how much she counted on his support; not as she really wanted to. She would dedicate this exhibition to him. No matter the outcome, she would show him and thank him properly. With a timid smile, she gestured, ¡®I better finish this tea before Oka-san comes back.¡¯ Then the light above her front door flashed. It was the doorbell. *Konbini are Japanese convenience shops. Chapter 1.1 - Different Time, Different Lives Shiro barked and jumped excitedly at the sound of the buzzer. Mr Takeda meekly attempted to calm the large dog, but to no avail. Mrs Takeda returned from the toilet. Has that dog not been trained? So loud! What will your neighbours say?!¡¯ Mara abruptly rushed past to answer the buzzer. With a gentle embrace, Mr Takeda pulled his wife closer to him. ¡®Try to give Ma-chan a little break this time. This is our first visit to her home, and she¡¯s trying her best. Also, Shiro is a big help to her. He¡¯s just helping Ma-chan know when there is someone at the door.¡¯ ¡®Yes¡­ I forgot for just a moment. I was just worried for the neighbours.¡¯ She replied with a small pout. Mr Takeda smiled and gave her a comforting squeeze. He knew his wife all too well. If only she were more honest with herself, admit how over-protective she was. Mrs Takeda resigned herself and reached for her handbag. Nothing a bit of crocheting couldn¡¯t fix, so she got her hands busy. It was Haru Ito. After a short, quiet greeting, Haru walked into Mara¡¯s living room to find her parents. An immediate and bright smile came from Mrs Takeda. ¡®Ah, if it isn¡¯t Ito-san! It is so nice to see you again! Welcome, welcome.¡¯ The sudden mood change in her mother took aback Mara. She couldn¡¯t help but roll her eyes and gestured for Haru to sit down. ¡®It is very nice to see you again as well, Takeda-san. How was your journey? I hope you didn¡¯t find it too troublesome around the stations.¡¯ ¡®So polite. We were fine, thank you for asking. How have you been? Always the handsome young man. Ito-san, you take good care of yourself.¡¯ ¡®Oka-san, you¡¯re embarrassing Ito-san.¡¯ Mr Takeda attempted. ¡®Nonsense! If it¡¯s the truth, there is nothing to be embarrassed about.¡¯ She dismissed. ¡®It is indeed nice to see you again, Ito-san. As always, we are in your debt for Ma-chan. We thank you for always looking after and supporting our daughter. We hope you will continue to look out for our Ma-chan as you have been.¡¯ Haru¡¯s amiable smile brightened the room. ¡®Please, Takeda-san. You¡¯re too kind, always. It is me who should be thankful to you for allowing me to represent Mara.¡¯ Mrs Takeda blushed at Haru¡¯s smooth voice and well-spoken words, while Mara¡¯s disdain only grew. She wondered if her mother saw sparkling little stars around Haru¡¯s face every time she looked at him. Mara had messaged Haru to come over, hoping that he would serve as a nice, charming buffer; divert attention away from her, but this was getting ridiculous. After some continued exchanges of compliments, Mara finally brought out the tea and began serving them. She tried to be as graceful as she could, but seeing her mother¡¯s quick frown gave her clumsiness away. Still, the moment was too precious to be ruined with lectures on tea etiquette. ¡®Tell me Ito-san, do you believe in our Lord and Saviour?¡¯ Mrs Takeda said brightly. Mara thought for a second that she had misread her mother¡¯s lips. Haru, unsure of what to say, pulled up his sliding glasses. ¡®Er¡­ Lord and Saviour?¡¯ Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡®God, Ito-san. Do you believe in God?¡¯ ¡®Ah, well, I can¡¯t say I entirely disbelieve¡­ I frequent the temple every so often. I¡¯m more spiritual, I suppose.¡¯ His smile was strained. ¡®Mm-hm. I also don¡¯t see a ring on your finger.¡¯ Another pause. ¡®A ring?¡¯ ¡®Yes, you know, a wedding ring or a commitment ring. Are you perhaps still single?¡¯ ¡®O-Oka-san, I think that¡¯s prying too much into Ito-san¡¯s business-¡¯ ¡®Mother, please! I¡¯ve asked you to stop this kind of thing. You¡¯re embarrassing me.¡¯ ¡®Oh, for goodness¡¯ sake! I¡¯m just making conversation! A handsome man like Ito-san; it¡¯s a normal question!¡¯ ¡®Haru, you don¡¯t have to answer that. No, in fact, it¡¯s better that you don¡¯t answer that.¡¯ Mara signed while intensely looking at Haru. She knew where this was going. She resorted to communicate with her eyes, but the more she tried, the confused he seemed and chuckled nervously. ¡®Haha, unfortunately, I¡¯m not married, Takeda-san. Tokyo life makes it quite difficult to slow and settle down. But my mother is introducing me to a young lady next week. They believe she will be a good match for me.¡¯ He nodded politely. ¡®Eh? Really? That is such a shame! But you know sometimes, parents are wrong about these things. I mean, women of all kinds must flock to you at every opportunity. The lord forgive me, but such a fine, good-looking young man such as you¡­ you¡¯d be better off and certainly facing no trouble in finding genuine love. I can¡¯t imagine you marrying someone you¡¯ve never met. And love is usually closer than you think.¡¯ After a pause and a furtive look at her daughter, Mrs Takeda giggled. Sometimes you just have to look around you.¡¯ ¡®Alright, that¡¯s enough!¡¯ Mara quickly gestured and crossed her hands. Not intending to back down, Mrs Takeda tried to continue, but Mara was already on her feet and pulling Haru by the arm. This time, she spoke directly to Haru. ¡®Haru, come. I need to show you the details on the last frame.¡¯ Haru¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. Mara hardly used her voice. Mrs Takeda frowned, dumbstruck. She looked at her husband with contempt, as if he had cheated her out of a card game. Mr Takeda searched his pockets for a cigar. ¡®Don¡¯t look at me. I was trying to tell you to stop.¡¯ ¡®Oto-san! Don''t you want to see your daughter happy? Don¡¯t you want grandkids??¡¯ ¡®I do. I never said I didn¡¯t.¡¯ ¡®Then why don¡¯t you help me? That girl needs to find someone. She¡¯s just waiting around for someone to fall from the sky; perhaps for one of her paintings to come to life and romance her away. God already made his miracle happen when he put that gorgeous man on her path! If she does nothing, she will lose him and not even God¡¯s miracles will help her then.¡¯ Having found his cigar, Mr Takeda stood up and moved towards the balcony. ¡®This is not the way. And Ito-san already has a path he¡¯s following on his own. Ma-chan needs to find hers too. She is only twenty-four years old.¡¯ ¡®Soon to be twenty-five! How old were we when we married? You¡¯re just too easy on her!¡¯ ¡®Different times, different lives.¡¯ Mrs Takeda furiously resumed her crocheting; he relaxed too much for her taste. ¡®You wouldn¡¯t let anything stand in our way when we started off. We went through all that hardship to build our family. Why can¡¯t you wish the same for your daughter? She is so stubborn, that girl. She would move worlds for her Art! Why can¡¯t she use some of that tenacity to be with someone?¡¯ Mr Takeda listened to his wife, but knew there was nothing more to say. Their path had been a difficult one, but they had forged it together. At their young age, they had fought his family just to be together and, as a result, his parents renounced him for choosing to be with an orphaned, foreign woman; a North Korea defector to make it worse. He didn¡¯t care; he fought for her; for their love and their future together. He loved the woman. He loved her then and loved her as much now. Their first years together ended up having more sorrows than joy. It was as if they¡¯d been cursed: Mara gradually lost her hearing at five years old and they had two stillbirths after her. It forced them to stop trying for more children. His wife¡¯s body wouldn¡¯t cope anymore. Their dream of having a large family slipped by silently and it nearly broke his wife. They pulled through, somehow. Later, in Kanazawa, they finally settled anew and life started being kinder. The large family they so wanted found its way to them when the neighbouring children entered their shop and even their house, filling everywhere with noise. The younger kids flocked to Mara and called her One-chan, and they all played around in their enormous garden. He knew Mara¡¯s life was miserable at school, but they filled their home with joy. For that, he was always grateful. As he gazed out onto Mara¡¯s balcony, he wondered Mara was an adult now, independent, and about to become a famous artist; all at the back of her own efforts. He was an immensely proud father. What else could he ask for? He knew that happiness would follow her. She had fought her way this far, after all. He blew out smoke and with a lighter tone, he said, ¡®Ooh Oka-san, the view from here is the best! Look, you can even see Tokyo Skytree! The tallest tower in all of Japan, you know?¡¯ Mrs Takeda kept her eyes on her crochet, but replied begrudgingly. ¡®Ah, is it? You should go with your daughter. It might bring you both closer to God!¡¯ Chapter 1.2 - Different Lives, Different Times ¡®Mara, I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s polite to leave your parent¡¯s out there like this.¡¯ Haru said as they walked in her small Art studio. She had brought a plate with slices of cake and cookies her Mother had baked and brought over. She grabbed a notepad from the drawing desk and wrote. ¡®Trust me, this is for the best. They only came to see the flat. They will look at it now without us getting in the way.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m sorry. I agreed to come over, and I thought it would lighten the mood, but I feel like I¡¯ve made it worse.¡¯ ¡®Why should you be sorry? I¡¯m the one with the religious, zealot-marriage-hunter of a mother.¡¯ Haru chuckled. After a small silent moment, he reached for his phone and typed, and then showed her. ¡®You spoke out loud back there.¡¯ It showed. She read it but didn¡¯t make efforts to reply. He spoke to say the next. ¡®That is a tremendous step, Mara. You should talk more aloud. Even if it¡¯s just with me for now. And I really don¡¯t mind hearing you.¡¯ She shook her head and gave him a small smile before she wrote again. ¡®I¡¯m not sure how I feel about that. I don''t want people to think I''m strange and focus on what¡¯s wrong with my voice.¡¯ Haru fumbled with his phone in thought. He touched her arm, as he often did to get her eyes on him. He wanted his intent to come through. ¡®What happened to you when you were in school was horrible. Those things are difficult to forget. But Mara, that happened many years ago. You are a grown woman now, a talented artist and a respected professional. People are more open-minded than you think. No one will be thinking of your voice when they see your work.¡¯ Mara looked away with some discomfort. He was right in everything he said, of course, but every time she had let her voice out in public, it never ended well for her. Now she was about to embark on a whole new phase and expose herself to the world. Putting her face in front of her work was already going to be a massive endeavour; having her voice in the mix was just something she wasn¡¯t ready for. Not yet. ¡®I¡¯m sorry. Just for now, I still prefer this way.¡¯ Haru nodded as they understood each other. ¡®I¡¯ll tell you now though, my sign language lessons are not going well.¡¯ He gave an apologetic smile. ¡®We¡¯ll have to get a sign language translator at the event.¡¯ She smiled in response, grateful that he didn¡¯t push further. ¡®Can you imagine the look on your mother¡¯s face if I told her the real reason I¡¯m not married?¡¯ Mara wrote, ¡®That you¡¯re gay? She would probably pass out from the initial shock, but you¡¯re welcome to. I only stopped you because you said you didn¡¯t want them to know.¡¯ The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®In the end, it was easier to tell a small lie. Your parents sort of remind me of my family.¡¯ ¡®I know it is hard for you.¡¯ ¡®Not really, not anymore. It¡¯s on rare moments like these that I think of them. I¡¯m usually OK with telling other people. It doesn¡¯t mean much, but I think your mother would probably make that same face my mother made when she realised. That is always very painful to see. I don¡¯t want to disappoint your Mother too.¡¯ ¡®How long has it been?¡¯ ¡®Since I¡¯ve seen them?¡¯ He then attempted to sign in response. Mara wrote ¡®That¡¯s 80 years¡­¡¯ Haru shook his head, pushed his glasses up, and clumsily attempted to correct himself. He was awful about it, but it was endearing seeing try so hard. He then came to terms to just hold up eight fingers. Mara smiled in understanding and squeezed his hand. She wrote on her pad, but this time she ripped the page in half and handed him a piece. It read: ¡®You have me now. I¡¯m your family.¡¯ Haru¡¯s most genuine smile warmed her heart. She blushed then wrote, ¡®You¡¯re right. Your sign language lessons are not going well.¡¯ Haru laughed. ¡®Alright. What have you to show me today?¡¯ He asked. Mara sprung from her seat, grabbed a slice of cake, and took a big bite, and only after she uncovered the three paintings in front of him. ¡®Three? Three new pieces. When did you manage them?¡¯ She shrugged her shoulders and gave the rest of her attention to the slice of cake. Haru, clearly dumbfounded, moved closer to the pieces. He had only seen her a few days ago and now she delivered this? Had she been working during the night? At first glance, the closest painting appeared to be an intricate abstract with a mix of black and red colours. But if one stared long enough, and at a certain angle, it was actually the blurred face of a young man with read eyes; a much younger boy, a child, dressed in a traditional, royal Kimono with black and white colours, was in the second painting. She purposely blurred his face, but was something about his expression brought him to life. His eyes and the lonely, but serious expression in them were hypnotising; the last painting was of a young man who resembled the one in the first painting, though this one had horns and a prominent scar on the left side of his face. She blurred the face like the others, but again, the eyes gave away the very distinct sense of solitude and a weary emptiness, as if reaching into one¡¯s soul. They were different versions of the same young man. ¡®So you still dream of him?¡¯ Haru said as if to himself as he studied the paintings. He wrote using his phone. ¡®Mara, these are incredible! Let¡¯s definitely add them to the exhibition. I¡¯ll work out the details with the curator.¡¯ Mara shook her head and wrote. ¡®I¡¯m not finished with them yet.¡¯ ¡®They look ready to me. But I know what you¡¯re like and I¡¯ll let you do your thing. People will love these.¡¯ He hesitated before writing again. ¡®Tell me, are you still having those strange dreams?¡¯ Mara paused and avoided Haru¡¯s gaze with the pretence of covering the paintings again. She just nodded cautiously. Haru touched her shoulder so she could see him speaking. ¡®Are they him, in these paintings?¡¯ She shrugged, then wrote on the notepad. Her shoulders were heavy with resignation. She knew Haru would be worried. ¡®I¡¯m not sure. I told you before, I remember little from those dreams.¡¯ ¡®But it¡¯s always the same boy?¡¯ Mara nodded with some hesitation. ¡®I feel it helps to paint him. It¡¯s hard to explain, but it¡¯s the feeling I get of what he looks like.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯ve said. It¡¯s just strange that he¡¯s been plaguing your dreams for as long as I¡¯ve known you. For weeks at a time sometimes. What¡¯s stranger still is that you dream him, but you remember nothing after. I mean, it¡¯s normal for most people to not remember their dreams, but they usually do when they¡¯re having recurring dreams like you.¡¯ ¡®I get some glimpses here and there.¡¯ ¡®At least you¡¯re channelling it through your art now.¡¯ Haru gave her a smile. ¡®I¡¯m happy that you will share these in your exhibition.¡¯ Mara hesitated, but nodded with a smile and then reached for another slice of cake. Chapter 2 - It had… horns? It had¡­ horns? After her parents and Haru left, Mara found peace slowly returning. She stood on her balcony taking in the evening breeze and appreciated the blood orange sunset view after she had given Shiro his food. She exhaled the day off. Despite all the delicious food that her Mother had brought, her Father and Haru being there, it had still been tough. But it had all ended without a major catastrophe. Haru survived her Mother¡¯s advances and although he had just sent her a selfie of them together, her Mother no doubt forced him to take. Surely so she could show him off to her church friends. The woman was impossible! Maybe she should have encouraged Haru to admit to his homosexuality. Perhaps then she would leave him alone. Haru. Brave and reliable, Haru, always there to support her from the moment they met. Despite his own hardships. He really was the big brother, the best friend she always wished she had. Rah would¡¯ve eternally remained in the shadows were it not for Haru. How could she ever repay him? A flash of Haru¡¯s expression came to her when he looked at her paintings. She regretted how she had handled. His questions were out of concern for her, she knew. Nevertheless, it was true that she couldn¡¯t explain her dreams. She could never remember the boy when she woke up. More recently, some parts of him have remained; like his eyes, his sadness, his presence. This made her want to paint him. Another deep exhale and she moved inside, brushing off the chilly breeze from her arms. Autumn was definitively here. She intended to finish the work on those pieces, but tiredness crept in; perhaps the stress from the visit took more out of her than she expected. She curled on the small sofa with a blanket. Readying herself for a long night of work required a nap first. Before long, she dozed off, letting her mind drift to unknown dreams. It was after school. Mara wasn¡¯t aware of the time anymore, though it was already dark. Her thighs and bum were numb from sitting on the floor for so long. No one walked through here, the isolated area behind the school¡¯s gym. This was where bad things happened. Eyes red and puffy, she attempted to wipe her tears, but these had no intention of stopping; she pulled her hair to cover her cheeks. There was blood after she scrapped her chin and elbow when they pushed her down. She couldn¡¯t call what had happened a fight. They were three against one. How can that be a fight? She could still see them laughing at her every time she cried out; How funny she must¡¯ve sounded. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Oto-san would say things like ¡®lift your head up and stand tall. You¡¯re better than they are.¡¯ How could she feel that way? It was so humiliating. This time she fought back; hard. But it always ended the same way. And all the things they called her were true and unchangeable. She was a *Hafu, and she was deaf. What was the point of fighting? Was it to prove otherwise? Mara lowered her head. More tears, more ache. ¡®You¡¯ve torn your sleeve.¡¯ The sobbing continued. ¡®Ooi! Helloo!¡¯ Nothing. Through watery eyes, she noticed black shoes in front of her. She lifted her head and saw the boy right in front of her. Instinctively, she retreated. ¡®Ah, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to scare you.¡¯ The young man smiled as he attempted to placate her retreat. He reached for the top of his head, feeling for something. ¡®They¡¯re not showing.¡¯ He then felt his ears and seemed more relieved. ¡®All good here too.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m all normal¡­ like you. No reason to be scared.¡¯ He said, bending down to her and showing his brightest smile. Mara read his lips, but he made no sense. She frowned and shook her head. ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ Silence. ¡®Ooi.¡¯ The boy waved in front of her face. ¡®Can you not hear me?¡¯ Mara flinched as he approached. Did he not have a sense of personal space?! Confused, she just blurted ¡®I-I can¡¯t hear!¡¯ She expected him to be disgusted at the sound she made, but the boy seemed rather curious as he cocked his head. ¡®You sound strange. You say you can¡¯t hear? Do you mean like your ears don¡¯t work? It makes sense you sound that way then. If one can¡¯t hear, they can¡¯t hear their own voice, right? Yes, that would be why. How else would you control your voice?¡¯ He nodded to himself, pleased. ¡®Is that what¡¯s making you sad? Er¡­ you can¡¯t really hear me this way, can you?¡¯ ¡®W-what do you want?¡¯ She rushed; she wanted this over. ¡®What do I want¡­ Simple: I want to know why you¡¯re bleeding. Why are you here alone? I¡¯ve been trying to ask.¡¯ He smiled. Everything he was saying puzzled her. Why should he care? ¡®Your eyes are really red. You¡¯ve been crying.¡¯ Mara stared at this strange black-haired boy and observed him properly for the first time. Maybe he was around her age, but he wasn¡¯t wearing their school uniform. He wore black trousers and a long white shirt with buttons and a vest traced with a golden pattern; too well dressed. Was he one of those home-schooled rich kids that were never allowed out? It didn¡¯t explain why he was here after school hours. Perhaps he ran away from home. She sighed; this wasn¡¯t the to wonder about his issues. She made to get up, but her legs had gone numb and she struggled. ¡®Here, let me help you.¡¯ The boy extended his hand, but she waved it aside. She cleared the dust off of herself, collected her bag and made to leave. ¡®Wait, you¡¯re leaving?¡¯ Not seeing him meant she could not hear him either. ¡®Please don¡¯t leave.¡¯ That made her stop in her tracks. Trembling in shock, she turned to face the boy. His friendly but pleading expression remained in clear contrast to hers. She couldn¡¯t have been mistaken: she heard him speak. *Hafu - (¥Ï©`¥Õ, "half") is a Japanese language term used to refer to an individual born to one ethnic Japanese and one non-Japanese parent. Chapter 2.1 - It had… horns? ¡®Wha- wha¡­ H-how are you¡­¡¯ She stumbled on her words. ¡®You¡¯re bleeding. Did something happen?¡¯ She heard him again. But something was off. He spoke, but his lips did not move. ¡®I ca- I can hear you. How¡­?¡¯ She touched her lips, realising she couldn''t hear herself. In fact, she couldn¡¯t hear any other sounds. ¡®I will be happy to explain it to you if you promise to stay for a minute.¡¯ Mara made to say more, disgusting, but stopped short. ¡®See? I told you she¡¯d still be here!¡¯ A girl and two boys approached. ¡®You disgusting, Hafu! You left without cleaning my section of the Hallway. I had to sit there and hear it from Tanaka-Sensei, telling me off for the rest of my precious afternoon.¡¯ The tall, skinny girl grumbled. The two boys who stood beside her were short and stocky. Mara looked to the floor, already knowing what was coming. ¡®What¡¯s this? You¡¯ve made a new friend? It¡¯s not a confession, is it? Bleurgh, disgusting!¡¯ The girl sneered, but paid little attention to the boy. ¡®Come on, you sad looking idiot, it¡¯s late and I¡¯m hungry after all that exercise. Ah, Takoyaki! Let¡¯s go get Takoyaki!¡¯ The girl cheered, and the boys mimicked like empty puppets. ¡®Do you know them? Are they your friends?¡¯ The boy, suddenly in her mind. She couldn¡¯t stop trembling. She didn¡¯t dare look up, but she gripped her bag until her hand hurt. Mara knew them all too well alright but for all the wrong reasons. She shook her head, but she wasn¡¯t sure if it was in response to his question; or her disbelief that they came for her again; or even that all of this was happening all at once. ¡®But we don¡¯t have any money¡­¡¯ one boy said. ¡®Don¡¯t be stupid. The Hafu is buying! How else is she going to repay us? Right? Wait, she might not have heard a word of that. I forgot about her permanently blocked ears!¡¯ The girl laughed, and the boys joined in with clumsy and lazy laughs. The girl stopped abruptly and a second later, so did the boys, as if not wanting to overstep. Her expression turned bitter. She gestured for Mara to go to her. Mara did not move. ¡®Oi, look at me when I¡¯m talking to you! Come here, damn it!¡¯ The girl shouted and started moving towards Mara, but the boy who stood with Mara blocked her. Mara only saw his shoes as he stood with his back in front of her, shielding her from her bullies. It was only then that she lifted her head at the scene ahead. Something had changed. The tall girl froze in place, stupefied by something. She attempted to speak, but her words seemed stuck in her throat. In fact, even her bodyguards froze in place. All three of them trembled, struggled to breathe, as if strangled by an invisible hand. Still behind the boy, Mara saw something emanating from him. A sort of shimmer or a mist that changed the surrounding air. That terrified the girl and her companions, and tears rolled down their cheeks. A few moments more and it was gone. The teary girl and the boys gasped and coughed for air as if they had been under water for too long. One boy spared a wild-eyed look at Mara and her new friend, made the sign of the cross and ran off. The other stood his ground a little longer but was betrayed by his bladder; the next moment, he too turned around and fled. Only the girl remained. She was crying and was on her knees, staring at the young boy in terror. As Mara could read, the girl was giving desperate pleas, saying things like ¡®please spare me¡¯, and ¡®please forgive us.¡¯ Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Mara couldn¡¯t believe her eyes. She moved slowly to stand beside the boy and she saw he looked down at the sobbing girl with ice-cold disdain. In her mind he said, ¡®I didn¡¯t like the way they were talking to you. I don¡¯t think they¡¯re your friends.¡¯ Mara wanted to ask him what he meant or what had he done to them, but words failed her. From what she saw, he had not lifted a finger. Yet he had demolished her bully, her long-time tormentor. This was far from natural. Her heart raced as all her instincts screamed at her to run, but she mustered all her courage to remain. Besides, something told her she wouldn¡¯t get very far if she tried. All smiles, the boy voiced in her mind, ¡®Shall we go? Let¡¯s go! I can take care of all that bloody mess for you.¡¯ He reached out to Mara¡¯s hand with shocking familiarity and pulled her away. Mara followed, but turned back once to see the tall girl still sobbing and begging with her head glued to the floor. Mara blinked off the sleep and the dream. Something was different this time. It was the boy again, but this time, she remembered this dream, clear as day; She saw him. She made to get up, to draw him quickly before he slipped from her memory again. What a strange dream; It felt more like a lost memory returned to her. She looked around. When did it get so dark? She had meant to only take a brief nap, but ended up oversleeping. Shiro was also asleep by the sofa and then her stomach, with intruding noises, reminded her it needed some attention too. An unfamiliar, sweet smell invaded her senses. Was it Lotus flower? But where was it coming from? It was dizzying, and she reached for her forehead. She got up, but something by the balcony caught her eye. She felt Shiro stand and the fur on his back rattled. His muscular shape taking an agitated charge as he barked; Ferociously, from the looks of it. It startled her as she had never seen Shiro behave this way for the few years they¡¯ve been together. What could so- A shadow. Dark and tall shadow that looked to be a person. But it could not be. This is the seventh floor! How could someone climb up all the way up here? But it was undeniable. There was something there, and it was shaped like a man. Except it had¡­ Horns? Then she paused. Maybe it was just a reflection. It wasn¡¯t moving and maybe some kids from other buildings were playing tricks and reflecting shades into her flat. Or maybe she was still dreaming! Yes, any of those would make the most logical explanation. Get a grip Mara. She steadied herself and grabbed one of the sofa¡¯s cushions. After two uncertain steps forward, she rolled her eyes; Were this to be an assault, the best weapon she could defend herself with was a cushion?! Maybe she could use it to suffocate the horned burglar or offer him a seat, with some tea and biscuits. Yes, this had to be a dream. Shiro continued to bark, but even he wasn¡¯t running towards the shadow. The Lotus flower smell was coming from there, it was stronger. Glowing red circles appeared where eyes should have been, and some kind of smoke exuded from it. This was anything but a reflection. Panic rose, her heartbeats were not her own to control and she never even realised when her hand had reached her chest. A useless attempt to calm her heart. The dark figure moved; One step inside the flat and Mara saw him. She should¡¯ve run or screamed or done something, but her knees gave out before she could remember how to control them. He looked as real as any person she¡¯d ever seen, except he couldn¡¯t possibly be! A dark cloth covered his mouth and nose and on his head, he had two half-curled horns; So, no, he couldn¡¯t be real. What little she saw of his skin was pale and contrasted against the dark, long cloak he wore. His intense red stare was piercing, arrogant even, and it bore down on her with such pressure, such intrusion that she felt like he dug deep inside her soul. There was a commanding and oppressive power about him, overwhelming enough to keep her on her knees. She felt very insignificant in his presence. Never had she felt fear like this. Still, she found she couldn¡¯t look away. Chapter 2.2 - It had… horns? ¡®Who are¡­ W-what are you? What do you want?¡¯ Silence as he moved close. Closer than she cared to allow, and she could not move. Shiro still barked, but did not attack. Mara saw the smoke that came off of the man become a tenuous but vivid red shimmer which embedded his shape like a protective shield. The red matched the red in his eyes. Mara was a moth attracted to the flame, knowing full well she could get burnt at any moment. Yet, she couldn''t stop looking, couldn¡¯t scream or run away. He had her completely in his grasp. Then his red eyes changed into this thick luminous grey. The next second, grey smoke danced out of his hand and just as Mara was about to speak again, it projected into her face, forcing her eyes shut. She curled holding her head and trembled. Was this some kind of poison? A drug? Was he here to kill her?! But nothing happened. He was still there when she looked up. However, his gaze had shifted to surprise; hesitation even. ¡®How did you do that?¡¯ A deep voice inside her mind. Terrified, she recoiled, unable to think, her eyes now free from his stare. ¡®Answer me! How were you able to resist the grey?¡¯ It was a delayed realisation when it hit her. She had just heard him. Just like in her dream. And just like in her dream, she could only hear his voice. But that had just been a dream. How was any of this possible? ¡®You must tell me!¡¯ He insisted urgently. Mara¡¯s eyes filled with tears, her breathing became increasingly erratic, and her mind spun with panicked thoughts. She held and shook her head in confusion, as though forcing it to wake from this nightmare. ¡®Damn it!¡¯ He said, charged with frustration. He moved towards her, and the protective red veil that enveloped him vanished. Instead, enormous black wings, as black as his hair, spread from his back and surrounded them both. ¡®Calm down or you¡¯ll pass out. You¡¯ll need to come with me.¡¯ ¡®W-wings¡­ Wha-what do you want from me?!¡¯ She shuddered when he touched her arms and, in instinctive resistance, she pushed her hands against his chest. He was too close and Mara¡¯s heart all but stopped. She wasn¡¯t sure whether it was out of fear, but the oppressing feeling she felt until now was dissipating. When she looked up at him, his eyes had changed again. This time to a natural blue shade. His gaze remained tense, but there was no more of the fiery aggression. In all the madness, a passing feeling of familiarity passed through her. Something about his presence. Along with it, her arms weakened against his chest. He must have taken that as the final consent to press even closer. ¡®This will be hard on you since it¡¯s your first time.¡¯ His tone was slightly smoother. He pressed her closer still. That shook her back to her panic and useless resistance. What was this? She was entirely in his arms now. He pulled and wrapped her; her arms folded in front of her, ignoring her every command to fight back, to just push. She froze, and her face felt hot. She was not used to being held. His dark wings closed in tighter to wrap them both. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®W-w-what is happening?¡¯ ¡®We need physical contact to travel together. We cannot lose contact at any point. It¡¯s too dangerous.¡¯ His calm and detached tone heavily contrasted with her dread. She had been panting, but now she found it difficult to breathe at all. His arms tightened, ignoring her silent and futile resistance. She wondered if he could feel her heart thumping away. His arms rested on her lower back. It was disconcerting how perfectly she fit in his arms. Her trembling, her heart, her everything slowed down. His warmth, his smell, even the chest motions of his breathing took over and lulled her into a doze. She felt herself letting go and her body no longer was not hers to control. All thought fled as she gave in. A faint mist of green mixed with rays of black flowed around them and moved up, disappearing through the ceiling. She looked at him with some effort as he focused on whatever he was doing. His eyes had changed again and were a luminous green. Then she followed the line of his neck, how his hair fell down around his pointy ears. There was no doubt about it: he was not human. A warm, comforting feeling enveloped her as if she was under a blanket scented sweetly with lotus flowers. Her gaze drifted into nothingness, and then everything was black. Hell Lucious was careful as he lowered Mara on the enormous bed. He sat on its edge and removed the scarf he had used as a mask; It was stifling. Then he watched her. Up close, she was so different now. Her soul still burned bright and beautiful, as always, but it was stronger. It seemed so unreachable. He shook his head in frustration and wondered how it got to this. He had not planned for this. ¡®You ended up bringing her here.¡¯ Mammon said as he approached. Lucious kept his eyes on Mara as he answered. ¡®I did not mean to.¡¯ ¡®Then why?¡¯ Finally, Lucious looked at Mammon, but he didn¡¯t have an immediate response. He seemed to measure his words as he spoke. ¡®It got too complicated. I didn¡¯t expect that she could¡­ She¡¯s different now.¡¯ ¡®Different how?¡¯ Mammon studied the unconscious Mara. ¡®The grey, the red. They didn¡¯t work on her. Her power is much stronger than we expected.¡¯ Mammon¡¯s eyes widened. ¡®How do you mean? Is she no longer human?¡¯ ¡®She is. But they just didn¡¯t work. The intensity of the red alone should¡¯ve caused her to black out, but she didn¡¯t. I could tell she was frightened. I just looked like this winged thief in the night. So maybe the fear triggered her power, and she used it without realising. I also used the grey, up close, and even then, nothing happened. She just¡­ stared at me.¡¯ A flash of Mara¡¯s fearful eyes came to him and he closed his hand into a fist. It wasn¡¯t supposed to happen this way. Mammon approached Mara. He removed his glove and touched her forehead with care. ¡®It was her first journey through the corridor. She will be out of it for a while. Frankly, I¡¯m surprised she¡¯s not spewing her dinner right now.¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t think she had dinner.¡¯ ¡®Oh?¡¯ ¡®Her stomach was rumbling a lot when I got there. She had been napping all evening.¡¯ ¡®Ah. That would explain your own absence for all these hours?¡¯ A teasing smile from Mammon. ¡®I didn¡¯t do¡­! Anyway, she¡¯s here now. And I have to find out how she does it. How she resists the colours.¡¯ ¡®We don¡¯t know that she can resist them for sure. It could¡¯ve been a fluke, out of fear as you¡¯ve said.¡¯ ¡®She does, Mammon. Flukes can happen between demons. For a human to resist the power, that¡¯s something else entirely. I saw it with my own eyes.¡¯ ¡®Lucious,¡¯ Mammon spoke carefully. ¡®You know I would die protecting you and your cause. But I feel compelled to ask: Have you thought this through?¡¯ Lucious stared at Mammon with some contempt. Mammon continued. ¡®You¡¯ve always been overprotective of this human girl. The plan was only to retrieve a small portion of her soul essence and cast a shadow around it to keep her safe. Now you¡¯ve brought her here. You¡¯re talking about this power of hers, resisting the colours¡­ involving her further may put her in more dang-¡¯ ¡®Don¡¯t you think I know that?!¡¯ He said, harsher than he intended. Mammon lowered his head in deference. Lucious sighed. ¡®I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m tired.¡¯ ¡®I know you¡¯ve not been sleeping well. Your father is also returning tomorrow. He may set up the Test soon.¡¯ Mammon said, his head still lowered. ¡®If you say you understand my cause, then you also know that Beel doesn¡¯t have much time. I need to act now with or without a Test. If there is a way to harness this power, she had¡­ Mammon, you¡¯re the only one I can count on. I need you to understand. If I had a choice, I would¡¯ve left her out of this.¡¯ ¡®I understand.'' I didn¡¯t intend to question your decisions.¡¯ Lucious looked down at Mara and added, ¡®Can I also count on you to protect her?¡¯ ¡®Of course.¡¯ Mammon responded without hesitation. ¡®Please raise your head.¡¯ Mammon did. ¡®Just help me see this through. Help me keep her out of harm¡¯s way. Even from me if it comes to it.¡¯ Chapter 3 - The Shinigami and the Ox named Pox The Shinigami and the Ox named Pox She only dared to squint her eyes ever so slightly, convinced it was enough to help her get her bearings, but it was still too dim to make out much. She felt herself on a soft surface. A bed? Most of her skin was bare, but she felt some sort of linen covering her top half. But what unnerved her the most were the hands fussing all over her. A wet cloth brushed her skin. Arms, feet, legs, all over. Two¡­ no, three pairs of hands moved in precise, fluid motions. Some hands felt icy and others warm, but all of them were wet; they felt like small hands women would have but her peeking only showed her dark silhouettes moving about. Was she dead? Were they preparing her body for the burial? That winged, horned kidnapper, was he a *Shinigami? He could have snatched her to the afterlife and she wouldn''t know any better. That strange power he used¡­ No, this felt like something else. She tried to concentrate, but her panic persisted. This was preposterous! She was probably already giving herself away with her trembling and all the faces she was pulling whenever the hands touched her, but no one was saying anything. The hands just kept wiping; like she was a precious ancient jar or a relic, she was being handled with care. There was a strong smell coming off of some cream they rubbed over her body. She couldn¡¯t place the scent, but she could still smell it; the dead shouldn¡¯t be able to smell, right? This was good. She couldn¡¯t get enough of it. It was the fragrance of a damp forest just after heavy rains. It helped relax her somewhat, but like a nagging itch, the questions kept bubbling up: where was this? Why was she here? And why was she letting strangers rub things on her body? Someone had kidnapped her just a week before her exhibition! How could this be happening now?! It would probably help understand things better if she just opened her eyes¡­ She took another surreptitious peek, but again, she couldn¡¯t make much. There was just movement; very precise and cautious movement. She thought of her mother then. ¡®Living just on Gyoza, Onigiris and Melon pan will get you nothing but a brief life! You must learn to cook! You must learn other life-skills! Locking yourself all day painting is not enough. How else are you going to learn to care for yourself?! And when you get a family? What then?¡¯ She should¡¯ve paid more attention to her mother¡¯s obsessive teachings. Perhaps today, she would be more cunning and brave to face her current circumstances. Despite her mother¡¯s incessant and impatient rants, the woman was a fighter. Making it to Japan as a refugee from North Korea, losing her parents at such a young age and still she made it on her own in a country that struggled to accept her¡­ she was a true survivor. She would say it was all thanks to God, but really, Mara knew it was all down to her own wits and tenacity; there was no situation she couldn¡¯t face. But how could one face this situation? A horned guy appeared out of nowhere and then kidnapped her?! No. There had to be more to this. She just needed to focus. She peeked again after the hands move away. Three of them, as she had suspected, were women. Very slender, in grey clothes. The women turned to her again, and she shut her eyes and wondered how long she would have to carry this on. As if in response, a chilly hand reach under her lower linen piece and moved up to her naked stomach. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Unable to take anymore, she screamed. Too late to back out now. Immediately, like a wounded animal, she sprung up and crawled backwards towards the head of the bed. There wasn¡¯t much of a distance between her and her caretakers, but she realised no one attempted to reach for her either. She quickly pulled the sheet to cover herself. All other movements ceased. Mara blinked in disbelief. These women, or so they appeared to be, had their hands held up in the air in strange positions. They seemed to freeze up. They appeared to be alive, but at the same time, they did not. Their skin was so ashen and grey, it seemed devoid of all blood. Mara gasped when she looked at one of them and she appeared to not have a mouth; another had bandages covering her neck and arms with dark-circled eyes, unnaturally wide, as if she had no eyelids; and the last one, the shorter one, looked the most human, but she was in some sort of trance, staring into space. This one had dark skin and no apparent deformities (that she could see); in fact, she seemed too human, too pretty and didn¡¯t quite fit the scene. All of them had dark circles under their unfocused eyes. Somehow, even in their frozen state, they seemed aware of her. Their eyes did not follow their bodies as they faced her direction. It was disturbing how they waited with their arms lifted high, frozen in the air. She didn¡¯t move for what felt like an eternity. She even managed her breathing under control. With a brief burst of courage, she got on all fours and crawled towards the women. She would need to go through them, anyway, to reach the door. Still, they did not move. Feeling braver still, Mara observed the one with no mouth. She was the most shocking one. She looked young, probably around her own age. But she was so gaunt that Mara feared her bones would poke through her skin at any minute. With a hesitant reach, Mara made for the woman¡¯s face. She dared not touch her, and just let her hand hover over the place where her mouth should have been. The woman¡¯s eyes were cornered elsewhere, and she was still as a statue. Mara looked closer. There had to be an old scar, a sign of a deformity even. She trembled with the realisation that there wasn¡¯t anything of the sort. It was as if the woman had never possessed a mouth at all. How was any of this possible?! Up close, she saw the woman¡¯s eyes had no irises and were a flat grey. Lifeless. Mara pulled herself away but could not avert her gaze from this bizarre creature. In an instant, the woman¡¯s enormous eyes flickered and fixed their gaze on her. A hand clasped Mara¡¯s wrist so tightly she felt like they had shackled her with handcuffs. She screamed and thrashed, but the hand did not let go. A small quivering voice tempted in her mind: ¡®Please, please! She will not hurt you! We are not here to hurt you.¡¯ Mara stopped, her eyes frantic and seeking. None of them seemed capable of speech. But there was no one else there besides them. And again, the voice only sounded in her mind. She could hear it! ¡®I promise she will not hurt you. If you just let us finish our work, we will leave you in peace.¡¯ Mara looked at these women again. Searching their faces, she found her: the dark-skinned one at the end; the girl¡¯s eyes were pleading as they observed Mara. They were full of life. ¡®Please, if you don¡¯t come back, we¡¯ll not be able to move from this position. It¡¯s starting to hurt.¡¯ The small voice was full of emotion. ¡®I beg you. I don¡¯t want them to know.¡¯ Mara hesitated. But the poor girl seemed to struggle now. She took a deep breath. Her body protested, but she laid herself back down. Only then did the mouthless woman let go. ¡®Thank you. Thank you so much!¡¯ The little voice came, charged with relief. With exquisite synchronism, the women resumed their gentle cleaning work. Never looking down at her, never acknowledging her except with their hands. Only now, the dark-skinned one had a thin smile that coloured her pretty face. Perhaps not all was lost. Maybe, she wondered, she could try the same thing. If she just focused her mind¡­ ¡®C-can you hear me?¡¯ There was silence, but a slight nod and a wider grin from the girl confirmed it. She had heard her in her mind. Shock, anxiety, and disbelief all came at once. But the ecstatic relief that came after simply took over. *Shinigami are gods or supernatural spirits that invite humans toward death in certain aspects of Japanese religion, tales and culture. Chapter 3.1 - The Shinigami and the Ox named Pox Before she could decide which questions to ask, the zombie maids (as she thought of them) were done with her. She had been so taken with her new ability that she let the chance to interrogate the dark-skinned girl slip by. Now cleaned, combed and clothed with a silky nightgown and a matching robe, it surprised her how relaxed and refreshed she felt. They left her a tray of what looked like delicious food: cakes, pastries, even onigiris. For a hostage, if this was indeed that situation, she was being treated with full royalties. Alone for the first time since she woke up, she took in her surroundings. The walls and ceiling looked rough and of pure stone; like a cave¡¯s. There were no windows on the walls, except for a large skylight on the ceiling which showed a dark, orange-red sky. Whether it was day or night, it was impossible to tell. The bedroom was excessively large. Surely three times the size of her flat. It had the basic furnishings which looked to be of high grade and a certain shine to it. The objects themselves seemed eerie, as if she could taint them with her touch. There was a coffee table, a large divan, a desk, its chair, an extensive wardrobe and an even larger oval mirror where she saw herself. Her usual unruly hair was so neatly brushed and groomed it startled her. How the zombie maids managed such an impossible feat was beyond her (something even her mother had never achieved). Her skin looked bright and fresh; whatever they did to her could only be a minor miracle. Her eyes strayed to the empty desk in the room''s corner and she absently fumbled her fingers. They hungered to draw. It had always been a source of comfort; her means to find some direction whenever she felt lost. She also thought of Shiro, and a knot formed in her throat. She couldn¡¯t remember what had happened to him after the incident. Was he taken too? She rushed for the double doors in the room. Its handles were horn shaped, and she paused, recalling the last events before she blacked out. She shivered when she recalled his intense stare. Whether it was out of fear, anger, or still shock, she wasn¡¯t sure. After a moment, she steeled herself, twisted the handles, and pushed. To her surprise, the doors were unlocked. She poked out her head first. To her left, she saw a long, dark corridor lit with thick candles. Was she in an underground dungeon? When she looked in the opposite direction, she saw him only a little too late. He observed her with a quiet, neutral expression, his head slightly cocked. He was tall, had silver-hair and his sharp eyes weighed down on her. As conspicuous as he was, it was what the creature next to him that made her flinch. Was it an ox? It looked like an ox. Yet it stood there erect on two legs; stocky and tall, at eight feet, she judged from its wide and curved horns. He wore silver armour that barely contained his barrel frame. His gauntlets held a thick axe that was about as tall as it was. It was, without a doubt, the biggest creature Mara had ever seen. Like a rock, it stood so still, so unmovable, staring down at her. Still, from its size alone, she didn¡¯t comprehend how she missed it as soon as she opened the doors. The moment their eyes met, her skin crawled. Her body and mind started the fiendish battle of trying to reconcile what she was seeing against reality. Her mind denied his existence. He could only exist in dreams (or nightmares). Every cell in her body, however, told her he was very real. And yet, her inability to flee persisted. For a moment, all three of them seemed unsure of what to say. ¡®Lady Mara. You¡¯re awake.¡¯ The man said first. He spoke in her mind, and his voice was too calm. So calm that it even relented her mounting panic. Still, it was with great effort that she moved her eyes from the ox. He was a striking man when she looked closely. His pointy ears, silver eyes and his furry tail made it clear he was also far from being human. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡®This is Pox, one of our finest warriors. I would say he¡¯s quite harmless, but that just wouldn¡¯t be true.¡¯ ¡ª He said and Mara gasped. As though realising some mistake, the man¡¯s neutrality broke, and he quickly said, ¡ª ¡®Ah¡­ what I mean is that he is a fierce warrior! He will be harmless to you; only you. He is not so harmless to others. Quite ruthless, actually; one swing of the axe and no more trouble. As I said, one of our finest. That is why he¡¯s posted here.¡¯ He said with a winsome smile. The ox shook his head and grunted while Mara now panted. Increasing his calm demeanour, the man said, ¡®Lady Mara, I¡¯m trying to tell you he¡¯s here to protect you. Please try to calm yourself.¡¯ ¡®Protect me from what? The Shinigami?¡¯ Mara asked, alarmed, and belatedly realising that she was using her mind as well. ¡®Shinigami?¡¯ ¡®Yes! The one with the horns and wings!¡¯ A brief silence before the man chuckled. ¡®My dear lady, shall we move inside? I feel there¡¯s been a tremendous misunderstanding.¡¯ *** Back in the bedroom, Mara still trembled. She quickly put some distance between herself and the man as she climbed onto the bed and left him standing in the middle of the room. He wore dark trousers, a waistcoat, a light grey buttoned-up shirt, a tie and a long dark grey overcoat. With his long silver hair loosely caught in a ponytail, he reminded her of a Butler. He was older, maybe by a handful of years. He was hard to read with his sharp features and formal demeanour. Even his smile made her feel inferior somehow. No matter how she looked at him, he was a mysterious and attractive man. His silver eyes fixed on her. Perhaps he studied her just as much. He lowered his head in a formal greeting. ¡®I am Mammon.¡¯ He said as he then lifted his head and gave another one of those cryptic smiles she found difficult to trust. It made little sense to say nice to meet you, so she said nothing. ¡®But it is nice to meet you. In person, that is.¡¯ He said. Of course. If these people could speak with their minds, it would be natural to assume they could read them too! Mammon moved two steps, and Mara flinched. He smiled again as he seemed to accept her state of hypervigilance and kept his distance. ¡®Some tea then? You¡¯ve not touched your food either. Is it not to your liking? We took care to include all your favourites.¡¯ He said as he moved near the tray the servants had left. It hadn¡¯t gone unnoticed, of course. The lemon cake slices were practically calling out to her. ¡®I¡¯m here to check on your wellbeing and answer any questions you have. I¡¯m sure you must have many.¡¯ He said settled himself on the divan and poured his drink. She couldn¡¯t deny it. Her questions were ready to burst out of her. Though giving in to her eagerness so easily felt too exposing; too weak. ¡®Alright. I can go first. Your guardian outside, Pox, is here for your protection. So you needn¡¯t be afraid of him. I apologise for the confusion when I introduced him.¡¯ ¡®Pox? His name is Pox.¡¯ Mara finally said, unamused. Mammon paused and flashed what appeared to her as an ironic smile. Perhaps he saw this as a minor victory since he got her engage. ¡®Yes, his name is Pox. He is a powerful ox. His family thought it fitting at the time, when he was nothing but a cute little stot, but now he¡¯s a grown man, a proud warrior. Its made his life quite difficult even to find a mate. So he¡¯s quite sensitive about it. So please don¡¯t question him about it. Despite how he looks, he¡¯s quite a softie¡­¡¯ She looked away. As if teasing or even engaging in conversation with a large armoured ox was something she could ever contemplate. ¡®Also, there is no Shinigami here and you are not dead. Though you are in Hell.¡¯ ¡®¡­ I¡¯m where?¡¯ *Shinigami are gods or supernatural spirits that invite humans toward death in of Japanese religion, tales and culture. Chapter 3.2 - The Shinigami and the Ox named Pox ¡®Hell.¡¯ ¡®Hell?!¡¯ ¡®Hell, my dear. The inferno; the abyss; Satan¡¯s domain; You know, down below.¡¯ Mammon said with a hand motion pointing downward. It was difficult to say for sure as his smiled remained, but this was sarcasm, no? ¡®Are you teasing me right now?¡¯ ¡®I am not.¡¯ He said as he blew some air into the cup. ¡®How can this be Hell?! You said I¡¯m not dead!¡¯ ¡®And I assure you, you are not. And why can¡¯t this be hell?¡¯ Mara cocked her head and frowned. ¡®Are you always this difficult to talk to? Can you not just give me straight answers?¡¯ ¡®I can and I am. You¡¯re the one not not asking the right questions, my dear lady; getting stuck in this loop around hell or not hell, surely can''t be very useful.¡¯ ¡ª He said with a sardonic smile. ¡ª ¡®By the way, you¡¯ve really got the hang of the mind talk. One would say that you have practised it all your life.¡¯ ¡®Where are my clothes?¡¯ ¡®Thrown away. They were not suitable. The servants are preparing more appropriate clothing during your stay with us. They are colouring them appropriately as we speak.¡¯ ¡®Colouring them? What does that even mean? And you threw my clothes away?!¡¯ ¡®I just said that.¡¯ He said, taking a sip. ¡®Those women that were here before, are they the servants you are talking about? Why do they look like that? One of them didn¡¯t have a mouth, you know! How is she even¡­ how does she even eat?!¡¯ ¡ª Her panic was rising at the recollection and her mind raced. ¡ª ¡®How can you say this is hell?? Like the Devil¡¯s hell?! Satan?! How is that possible?!! You say there is no Shinigami but who else could¡¯ve brought me here if not a Shinigami?! He had wings! And horns! And his eyes flashed all kinds of colours. If I¡¯m not dead, then why am I here? Can you just answer things properly and not talk like some cryptic old wizard?¡¯ Mammon took a long sip. Though he no longer smiled, he also seemed unaffected by the outburst. ¡®Let¡¯s try one question at a time. Perhaps a deep breath first?¡¯ ¡ª He said calmly. ¡ª ¡®You humans rely a lot on it in distressful situations. ¡¯ You humans? An exasperated sigh was all she could manage. She wanted to regain some focus, but this strange man¡¯s immaculate composure unsettled more than she could understand. ¡®Where is he?¡¯ ¡®My master? With his Highness, his father and the rest of his family. A small gathering. He will be with you presently.¡¯ ¡®Mammon, was it? Can you just tell me what I¡¯m doing here? Please?¡¯ He observed her for a moment and set his cup on the table. ¡®Do not be alarmed. I¡¯ll give you these for now.¡¯ He said as he grabbed a large pad and a pouch and walked towards her bed and deposited them on it. Mara looked at the materials and back at him, unsure of where those had come from or what his purpose was. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡®For you.¡¯ He said, his expression neutral. Mara didn¡¯t move until Mammon moved back again towards the middle of the room. When she opened the pouch, she found charcoal pencils and brushes of various sizes. It amazed her how calming it felt to touch them, and then finally hold them. With his back turned to her, his tail wagged twice. ¡®All your questions will be answered and your purpose made clear to you, of that you can be certain. I only ask that you try your best to follow our lead and do as we say. This must happen at all times. Everything you see and experience here is real. It¡¯s only another form of reality that was not made known to you; or perhaps you chose not to believe it exists, it matters not. I cannot go into details, but you are a last and strong resort to help with a very¡­ sensitive issue. My master is¡­, well, no, we are in your debt. We are very grateful that you¡¯ve agreed to join us, Mara.¡¯ ¡®I didn¡¯t agree to anything! What issue are you talking about? What does any of this have to do with me? Look, I¡¯m just an artist back where I¡¯m from¡­ which you seem to know already¡­ b-but what I¡¯m trying to say is that this has to be a huge misunderstanding. I don¡¯t know anything about your master, or hell or whatever. He¡¯s made a mistake.¡¯ He turned to her as he said, ¡®Mm. Human minds, indeed so fragile; so fearful. Worry not, there¡¯s no misunderstanding.¡¯ He smiled again, so openly it almost dismissed his own condescension. She shook her head in despair. He was enjoying her misery; his tail wagging again showed her as much. ¡®What exactly are you?¡¯ ¡®I am a wolf-demon of the wolf warrior clan.¡¯ ¡®A wolf-demon¡­ so that tail¡­?¡¯ ¡®It is real. And yes, I do have another form. Although it¡¯s not one of a deranged werewolf you have in your mind. How crude. Humans love to rely on their fictions to imagine anything. When I transform, I am in full control of my own abilities.¡¯ She imagined him in what could be his wolf form, not much different to a furry werewolf she¡¯d seen in movies, except he would have silver fur all over and he would be a refined werewolf, lecturing on one thing or another, keeping his excellent posture and holding his pinky out while holding his teacup. If she weren¡¯t so confused right now, she would laugh at him. ¡®You said my master, before. Do you mean the Shinigami? Are you like his butler?¡¯ ¡®The ignorance is just overwhelming.¡¯ ¡ª It was his turn to sigh now, and the tail stopped wagging. ¡ª ¡®Not a butler. He is my master, my lord, and my charge. I¡¯m to be by his side at all times, guide, teach, and protect him. Give my life to and for him if need be. He is Lucifer, third Prince of the Seven Kingdoms of hell, heir apparent to the throne. And I serve him. Hardly a Shinigami. Those don¡¯t even exist in this realm.¡¯ He appeared neutral, yet she knew she had hit a nerve. ¡®So, still kind of like a butler.¡¯ She said. She thought she saw a small frown from his indecipherable expression. ¡®You would give your life¡­ for him. So easily?¡¯ ¡®I suppose it is inconceivable for you to even imagine such a thing. You are only human, after all.¡¯ ¡ª He said, regaining some of his condescending smile, though strained now. ¡ª ¡®We are not like you who make empty promises and trample on values like honour, respect and loyalty. We may have kidnapped you and you may think of us as savages, but my lady here, however distorted they may seem, our values still mean something.¡¯ His tail wagged once, as if to emphasise his satisfying response. She wasn¡¯t sure what perplexed her more: the sheer amount of condescension or his misguided belief in their values. It was as if he was belittling or justifying a kidnapping. ¡®What will it take to send me home?¡¯ ¡®For that, you will need to be patient. I have no permission to disclose it.¡¯ She squeezed the cushion in frustration. ¡®I have to go back.¡¯ ¡®You will, of course. In due time.¡¯ ¡®No. I need to go back now.¡¯ ¡®Surely, if there is something else you need, we can provide for it.¡¯ ¡®I need my dog.¡¯ ¡®Your dog¡­¡¯ ¡®My dog, Shiro. I left him behind. He¡¯s not used to being left alone for too long, and it¡¯s just the two of us. I need to go back to him, to feed him, to show him I''m alright. I need to see that he¡¯s alright.¡¯ ¡®This Shiro¡­ he is important to you?¡¯ She couldn¡¯t find malice or taunt in his tone. She nodded and hugged her pillow. Mammon looked as if he wanted to say something, but then decided not to. ¡®Make sure you eat something and get some rest. It¡¯s late. I will come again tomorrow.¡¯ He bowed slightly and left the room. Chapter 4 - The Boy Who Played with Colours After drawing various sketches of the ox and her version of a werewolf the high-class wolf demon transformed into, Mara nodded off. It wasn¡¯t long before she found her way back to her dream. For a small boy, his hand grip was quite firm. They walked, or rather, he pulled her until they reached a nearby park. They did not run, yet she was out of breath all the same. ¡®Here, take a seat.¡¯ The boy gestured to the park-bench. ¡®You look tired.¡¯ She was though he made no efforts to confirm or deny. Whatever he was, he wasn''t what he appeared to be. That innocent and friendly smile of his was deceiving. He did something back there to her long-term bullies; something so terrifying it brought them to their knees. Although, now that they were away, she admitted the whole scene gave her some twisted satisfaction. The boy reached for her chin, and she flinched. ¡®That looks painful.¡¯ He examined the wound. ¡®Are you concerned it will leave a scar?¡¯ He spoke with his mind, yet his face was too close. His breath was warm. She even saw up close his spirited blue eyes focusing on her with excitement. The intrusion was too much, and it was difficult to breathe. She pulled her face away and fiddled with her hair, enough to cover at least one eye. ¡®Why do you do that?¡¯ The boy cocked his head, oblivious to her discomfort. Her expression or silence must¡¯ve shown her confusion. ¡®That, with your hair. You were pulling it to your face, and you kept doing it earlier, too.¡¯ His curiosity was disarming. She felt her face flush and glanced away. ¡®Ah, I¡¯m sorry! Does that embarrass you?¡¯ ¡ª he sounded clumsy now. ¡ª ¡®My friend tells me I ask a lot of questions and has to remind me that some people don¡¯t like that. He¡¯s the first and only one who¡¯s ever told me that. Back where I¡¯m from, people just leave me to do or ask whatever I want, but he tells me the truth all the time. Things are different here, too. This is a new and exciting experience for me, so please, tell me if I start to bother you with too many questions.¡¯ Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Mara shifted uncomfortably and struggled to keep eye contact while he showed his kind smiled. She reached for her bag and pulled a notepad. The boy glanced over with that curious expression of his. ¡®How are you talking to me in my head?¡¯ It read. ¡®Mm¡­ how you ask¡­¡¯ ¡ª He looked pensive for a moment. ¡ª ¡®I just kind of think them and they go out¡­ it takes some concentration. It¡¯s something we just learn back home, you know, when we want to talk and don¡¯t want other people listening in.¡¯ ¡®Where are you from?¡¯ she wrote. ¡®Wait, why are you writing? Earlier, you spoke to me.¡¯ The boy blurted. Mara flinched again. Maybe this was the point he would start teasing her about her voice. ¡®Stop thinking non-sense. Here.¡¯ ¡ª He said, dismissing it as he reached again for her chin. ¡ª ¡®Let¡¯s fix this first. I don¡¯t like to see you bleeding.¡¯ She wondered again how he was reading her so well. He spoke in her mind. Could he read her mind, too? As she thought about it, the boy did not show further reaction. Instead, he brought up his other hand and what appeared to be white, bright smoke bubbled from it. At first it seemed shapeless, but suddenly, as if reacting to the boy¡¯s will, it took the shape of a tiny, and precise, round shape. It couldn¡¯t have been bigger than a marble ball. He pressed it onto Mara¡¯s bleeding chin. At first, there was nothing. Then gradually the burning sensation of the scrape cooled and vanished entirely. When she touched it, she realised her chin was smooth as it once had been. There were no traces of her injury; not even blood. She rubbed her chin again and again in bewilderment. It was as if the injury never existed. ¡®How is that? That¡¯s just a little something I picked up last week.¡¯ ¡ª he said, smiled, pleased. ¡ª ¡®It¡¯s not the most famous colour in hel- ahem- from back where I¡¯m from, but it works pretty well. It heals many wounds. I¡¯ve been practising it with our elders. It just doesn¡¯t heal mortal wounds or if you lose a limb. But the elders are so smart. They¡¯re working on ways to improve it. Of course, I¡¯m going to be there every step of the way. They already tell me I¡¯m the best student they¡¯ve ever had.¡¯ He looked slightly smug now, while Mara only stared at him in stupid disbelief, wondering in what circumstances one had to be in to get mortal wounds or to lose a limb. Just who was this boy?! Chapter 4.1 - The Boy Who Played with Colours What was he saying? More intrigued, she wrote on her pad. ¡®What do you mean by not the most famous colour? And who are these elders?¡¯ His excitement was obvious now. ¡®The elders are my teachers. Well, of all the seven Colours, they consider the White the weakest. But really, I think it¡¯s the strongest. When you think about it, how can one become strong without being able to heal?¡¯ Mara shrugged and shook her head. The boy caught himself. Perhaps thinking he had said too much. ¡®Aah... Well, it¡¯s a sort of magic school back where I¡¯m from. We call them Colours. We¡¯re all training to master the colours properly.¡¯ Mara still did not follow. The boy smiled and raised his hand. This time, he brought more smoke to life, more colours. First, there was the black. Then the green, yellow, blue, and white. All five colours danced and mingled in his hand, one trying to overpower the other. The shapes changed and soon became like small fireworks shooting up from his hand and dissolving above their heads. Mara was transfixed; a newborn seeing the world for the first time. The boy called them colours. They were so much more than that. They had life and light in them and they moved and reacted to his every command. Emboldened, the boy made the colours grow in his hand. The small fireworks got taller, wider and twirled within each other. At one point, they took the shape of falling waterfalls, or they split up into separate shooting beams that took the shape of a lion or a whale, and finally they became brilliant stars he juggled. He reached for the green star and gently placed it in her hand. Mara trembled, as if holding something fragile about to break. The boy¡¯s hand hovered under hers as he observed her just as carefully as she observed his mesmerising magic trick. When his hand touched hers, warmth spread all over her and she was instantly at ease. When she searched his face, his eyes had changed into the same luminous green they both held in their hands. Before she could ask, there was a fiery sparkle and the star in their hand boiled out of shape. Before any of them understood what was happening, a quick electrifying shock blasted their hands apart, and the colours faded. It was only a minor shock, but it was strong enough to startle them both. ¡®Oh¡­ that¡¯s new.¡¯ He said with an amazed smile. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Mara observed her own hand. Nothing had changed, it only tingled. ¡®Are you hurt?¡¯ He asked, and she shook her head. He also observed his hand, sat next to her and said, ¡®I¡¯m sorry, that wasn¡¯t meant to happen. I¡¯m still a trainee. I think I was trying to show off too much.¡¯ He sounded embarrassed, yet her only thought was how any of this was possible. Magic?! If she used the notepad again, he would resume his previous interrogation of her not speaking. Her curiosity, however, was now bigger than her fears. With a timid look, she voiced: ¡®How¡­ is this possible?¡¯ The repulsion she waited for didn''t come. Instead, a genuine smile coloured his fair face. ¡®That is a top level secret.¡¯ He said with a bright smiled. ¡®We¡¯ll see if I might share it with you one day.¡¯ He brought the white again and, like he had done with her chin, he pressed it to her other wounds. When he was done, the two sat in silent contemplation. ¡®That¡­ was incredible.¡¯ She finally said with a hesitant, yet bewildered, smile. Part of her was still bracing for what he would say of her voice. ¡®So you can smile!¡¯ The boy chuckled. She quickly caught herself. ¡®Next time, I¡¯ll do a rainbow.¡¯ He said, cheering on. ¡®Next¡­ time?¡¯ ¡®Yes, next time. I¡¯ll come visit again.¡¯ Another surprised. A moment of silence. For the first time, the boy seemed like he didn¡¯t know how to proceed. Mara resorted to writing. ¡®Do you not find my voice strange?¡¯ ¡®Not at all. I think you sound like you should sound. I like it. You should use it more. It must be hard having to write everything down. Maybe one day I¡¯ll teach you how to mind-talk!¡¯ This caught her off guard. Besides her family, no one had ever encouraged her to use her voice, let alone appreciate it. Indeed, he was a strange boy. ¡®Back there, with those kids, what did you do to them?¡¯ He looked at her, as if seeing something only he could see. Finally, he grabbed her notepad and wrote, ¡®It¡¯s late. I¡¯ll walk you home.¡¯ And then he stood up. Mara wrote again, fast. ¡®Will you at least tell me your name?¡¯ His smiled broadened. ¡®Oh, I didn¡¯t say? You can call me Louis. I know yours, Mara. I can call you that, right?¡¯ With that, he extended his hand. She hesitated. Under any other circumstances, alarm bells would go off since she was certain that she had never shared her name with him. Still, after what she had witnessed, should it surprise her? She knew nothing of him besides his name, but he had done nothing but look out for her all evening. If she wanted to find out more and see those colours again, she would have to be patient. For now, she would trust him. Her hand reached for his and she let him lead the way once again. Chapter 4.2 - The Boy Who Played with Colours Mara blinked a few times and sat up. Too fast. Her head spun. The skylight reflecting that smoky, fiery sky was still there. She wasn¡¯t home. Where she was right now wasn¡¯t in any a dream¡­ or nightmare. Yet the dream she just wok up from felt again like a returning memory; and she remembered that night so vividly now. How could she have forgotten such a remarkable encounter? How could she forget meeting him? Louis. It was because of what he did that the bullying at school finally stopped (none of the worst bullies dared approach her); it was also thanks to him she became obsessed with colours and painting. He had had such a tremendous impact on her life, she knew this now, yet there were still vast pieces missing from her memory. What had happened to him? Did they see each other again? Her head throbbed the more she thought about it. Louis¡¯ eyes changed, just like that Shinigami. Louis could also speak with his mind, just like these people. Was he from here? From Hell? Was he related to this whole thing, somehow? Was he why she was here? There had to be a connection. She got up haltingly, not to aggravate her headache, but before she could take a step further, it startled her to find that she was not alone. A dark figure sat on the armchair. Her mouth dried and her body stiffened. She tried to think fast, what to do, but her thoughts kept jumbling in her mind. These people had strange powers, and anything could happen. He wore a mask patterned with black lines. It only covered one eye. The uncovered one was set on her, glaring. His icy demeanour only increased her panic. Where was the ox?! Didn¡¯t the silver haired butler say he supposed to be guarding her? Was the man even saying anything? With his mouth under that mask, she couldn¡¯t tell. He had horns too¡­ was he perhaps another Shiniga- ¡®Please don¡¯t call me that.¡¯ His deep voice shattered her thoughts making her flinch. ¡®My name is Lucifer. Though I prefer Lucious.¡¯ He said, leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and folding his hands under his chin. He observed her as if waiting for her next move. That voice¡­ she recognised it. He was the one that had taken her. Some unknown courage came from somewhere when she also used her mind: ¡®Th-then, what are you?¡¯ He didn¡¯t seem surprised. She wasn¡¯t sure he heard her, but continued. ¡®Why have you brought me here?¡¯ Still no answer. ¡®When am I going home? I need to get back! What you did, kidnapping is a serious crime! I will report this!¡¯ There was no reaction from him, and her resolve wavered. Was she even getting through to him? The next moment, she realised how stupid she sounded. Accusing a creature from hell of a serious crime? And who exactly would she report this to? Unless there was some sort of supernatural police she could go to¡­ ¡®Look, you and your people seem to think I¡¯m here to help with some sort of issue. There has been a huge mistake. I''m-I¡¯m remembering some things! I met someone many years ago that might¡¯ve been from here. His name was Louis. He knows me and I¡¯m pretty sure he must be from here. He can vouch for me and confirm that I have done nothing wrong. I¡¯m not whoever you think I am. I¡¯m just an artist; I paint for a living. If you please just try to find out where he is, I¡¯m sure this will all be resolved.¡¯ Stolen novel; please report. There was a long and uncomfortable silence after that, but she couldn¡¯t think of anything else to say. His eye still trained on her, studying or looking down on her, it was impossible to tell. ¡®Are you done?¡¯ He asked, his tone flat. She nodded reluctantly. She imagined confronting her kidnapper many times, but threatening with serious crimes and then immediately beg wasn¡¯t how she saw this going. It was obvious she had no idea how to handle her predicament. Still, a small part of her felt a pride for being able to communicate her case, even if it was a weak argument. The familiar scent of the Lotus flower invaded her senses. She saw a thin veil of red smoke surround him and gradually grow thicker, threatening even. His exposed eye was red now. ¡®I¡¯m going to need you to tell me what happened in your flat.¡¯ ¡ª he said, ¡ª ¡®The grey, how did you resist it?¡¯ It was her turn to remain silent. She trembled, but she didn¡¯t want to give him the satisfaction of looking afraid. Now that she could, the more she thought about it, the angrier she got: He had ignored everything she said; sure, she didn¡¯t start off well, but she was the one in need of some answers. He stood up and moved a few steps towards her and she mustered whatever courage she had left to remain in place. ¡®You must tell me! You have no idea how dangerous the situation is.¡¯ ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I already told you to find out about this Loui-¡¯ ¡®But you do!¡¯ ¡ª He interrupted, ¡ª ¡®You must! You resisted the red and the grey; no human has ever done that. Did someone teach you how to do it? Was it my father?!¡¯ ¡®The grey¡­ you mean the colour?¡¯ Her mind went to Louis and her dream when he showed her the colours. ¡®Just now, you remembered something. Tell me, what is it?¡¯ It was obvious he only wanted things done in his own way. ¡®No¡­ it¡¯s not¡­ I told you, if you find Louis, all of this will be sorted-.¡¯ ¡®There is no one by that name here.¡¯ ¡®What?¡¯ ¡®There is no Louis here. But why do you think he can help you?¡¯ Nothing made sense anymore. ¡®¡­ There has to be. He was¡­ I mean, what he did back then. He was doing this thing with these colours. And he could talk like you, with your mind.¡¯ ¡®Mara, you must tell me everything you know.¡¯ She couldn¡¯t understand what he wanted from her. She had no answers! ¡®I¡¯ve told you, I don¡¯t know! You kidnapped me and brought to some weird dungeon! Now you¡¯re interrogating me about some weird power? I just want to go back to my life!¡¯ He closed his fist in frustration, which didn¡¯t go unnoticed. The red veil surrounding him intensified, and then a giant ball of grey smoke grew in his hand. Instinctively, she pulled back and tripped on the bed. Just as fast, he threw the grey at her. She shut her eyes and braced herself. But there was nothing. She felt nothing. She squinted, but the grey was so thick she couldn¡¯t see her own palms. She waved frantically, but the smoke would not dissipate. Everywhere she looked, there was only grey. Mammon walked into the room and approached. ¡®Lucious, what is this? What have you done?¡¯ He did not respond, but kept his eye on the thick ball of smoke. When the colour eventually dissipated, she was there, crouched on the bed, trembling and holding her head. Mammon rushed to her side while Lucious made his colours fade away. His eye returned to its natural blue. ¡®Mara¡­ How do you feel?¡¯ Mammon asked, hesitant to touch her. Mara lifted her fearful eyes, filled with tears. ¡®You¡¯re alright. It was just a touch of grey.¡¯ Mammon said, though it only inflamed her sobs. He gave Lucious a reproachful glance, but Lucious kept a perplexed eye on her. As he made to leave, he said aloud: ¡®Do you see it now?¡¯ ¡®Regardless. This isn¡¯t the way to prove a point.¡¯ Mammon said. ¡®We¡¯re running out of time. My father is back. Make sure she¡¯s ready to come to the banquet tomorrow evening.¡¯ He said as he left the room. Chapter 4.3 - The Boy Who Played with Colours Underground Caves - Hell Onsen Milky, steamy water overflowed. Drops and splashes echoed throughout the cavern. Satan stretched and exhaled, allowing his over sized muscles to extend in the soak. His long, dark hair was held back through his six horns while one of the grey slaves combed it. This one, though she missed an eye and chunks of hair, was remarkably diligent in her mechanical moves and every now and again smoothed her fingers through his scalp. Her companion, on the other side of the stone tub, had all her parts, but was old and worn out. She tended to Satan¡¯s wife, Odiva, who twirled her fingers around the red petals that floated about in the tub. Odiva was pensive. She sighed and flicked a petal here, another one there. At last, she directed her gaze to her husband. In her most sweet tone, she asked: ¡®Are you comfortable, muffin?¡¯ ¡®Mm.¡¯ He replied. Cold. Too cold. He didn¡¯t even open his eyes to her. She pulled away from her old grey servant, leaving her to freeze her hands half-way up in the air, like a robot whose switch was switched off. Odiva moved like a serpent in the water, making small waves while some petals floated away and others glued themselves on her wet skin. Satan peeked with one eye and appreciated his wife¡¯s figure, then closed it once more. She pretended not to notice. When she reached him, her fingers caressed his bricked abs. ¡®Darling, are you sure there is nothing else missing? Nothing you need?¡¯ She all but purred. Her body lightly rubbing against his. ¡®Mm. More heat.¡¯ There was no hesitation from the grey slave. She collected two large, flaming red balls from the ground. They did not appear to burn the servant¡¯s skin, however when she dropped them in the bath, they sizzled intensely and doubled the steam. Odiva raised an eyebrow. This would not do. Also, giving up was not in her nature. She trickled her fingers further down and pressed herself closer still. Satan immediately flashed a sharp and devious grin. So he had been waiting for her. ¡®Seems you¡¯re the one in need of something, dear.¡¯ He said. ¡®You¡¯ve left me alone for several weeks. Now you¡¯ve come home and you ignore me still. I¡¯m beginning to think that you¡¯re enjoying your time away from your wife too much.¡¯ Satan grabbed his wife¡¯s chin and gently lifted it up to him, his eyes fervently observed her. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡®Leave.¡¯ He commanded. In unison, the servants moved. The old one unfroze and limped away with her bones creaking. Her one eyed partner joined her and they left the chamber. ¡®If you keep calling me muffin in front of the help¡­ how will that make me look in front of the help? Even if they are soulless things.¡¯ Satan mused. ¡®Are you trying to change the subject?¡¯ She sulked. Satan¡¯s smile broadened and pulled her back to him. He enjoyed when she pretended to need attention. ¡®What¡¯s all this now? I thought we had a satisfying reunion earlier, no? Wasn¡¯t that enough to show you how much I¡¯ve missed you?¡¯ Odiva offered him a playful smile. ¡®And? When was that ever enough for you? Tell me, did you find another out there that can please you more?¡¯ His other hand travelled the length of her back and disappeared into the milky water. ¡®Impossible. Does it feel like I could ever be tired of you?¡¯ She raised her eyebrow, and her smile widened. ¡®It¡¯s too late. I don¡¯t want it anymore.¡¯ She feigned pulling away. Satan brought her back and kissed her neck. ¡®Really? That¡¯s not what your body is saying. I think you¡¯re testing me. See if you can drive me nuts.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m your wife. It¡¯s my job to do that, anyway.¡¯ She writhed at his kisses. ¡®By the way, and if you weren¡¯t aware already. We have a guest. Well, Lucious has a guest. He will bring them to tomorrow¡¯s dinner.¡¯ ¡®Oh?¡¯ Satan asked, with little interest. Somehow, he had placed her neatly on his lap. ¡®It¡¯s been a while since he brought anyone. It should be interesting.¡¯ She said between gasps. ¡®Mm. What¡¯s happening here is quite interesting too.¡¯ He moved to her ear. She chuckled and gave him a gentle pat on his chest. ¡®Behave you. I¡¯ll need some energy if I¡¯m to make tomorrow¡¯s dinner go smoothly. Nearly all of hell¡¯s court will be coming.¡¯ ¡®Isn¡¯t that why we have slaves? Just grey them. You¡¯ve started this. It¡¯s a little too late for me to hold back.¡¯ His hand reached around her thigh. A gentle moan escaped her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck. ¡®You will need to keep Levi in check tomorrow. You know he¡¯ll try something with Lucious. I don¡¯t want him to start anything and ruin the dinner.¡¯ ¡®Mm. Going back to the guest. Anything come up in your dreams?¡¯ He asked in between kisses. ¡®Nothing of consequence. She¡¯s just a normal girl. Answer me on Levi. I need your help to control him. He still wants to impress you and he has no issues with how reckless he can get. I really don¡¯t want this dinner ruined.¡¯ ¡®They¡¯re brothers. They can take care of themselves. You mother them too much.¡¯ He said, burrowing his face deeper in her bosom. She reached and with both hands she held his two front horns and lifted, preventing him from delving deeper. She had his eyes on her now. He watched as she moved languidly, goading him. Her hands found their way down from his horns to his face. She followed the lines up to his pointy ears, moved to his sharp, chiselled jaw, and then rubbed his lips. With every move, Satan¡¯s desire only deepened, and it filled her with thrill. This was the lord of Hell she temped, and she was the only one he looked at like with those eyes. The eyes of an insatiable demon lord. She moved her lips closer until she reached his ear and with a honeyed whisper she said, ¡®I¡¯m their mother. It¡¯s my job to keep mothering them.¡¯ She followed with a long lick around his ear and moved for his lips. ¡®Now, remind me why I married you.¡¯ She felt him stir underneath her. With that, she kissed him, and the two embraced in vibrant yearning for each other. Chapter 5 - A Rare Soul The three servants returned to Mara¡¯s room. This time, not only did they bring her a luxurious meal, they also brought dresses and shoes, but she hardly spared those a glance. She was ravenous. Refusing the first meal had been a colossal mistake (in protest, of course, but one she sorely regretted!). There had to be other more effective ways to revolt that didn¡¯t include parting ways with her stomach. To her surprise, they doubled up on everything: two large Japanese bento boxes, and another tray with individual dishes; a plate filled with *gyoza, another with *prawn tempura, then there was crab salad, and a bowl of *miso soup. Dessert was yet to be known and the fact that they had covered it with a cloche made it even more appealing. A feast for one person. Her mouth watered even before the servants finished setting the trays. All modesty forgotten, Mara tucked in. Whatever her dire circumstances, her appetite was impervious to them. ¡®I hope the food will be to your liking?¡¯ ¡ª A familiar voice in her mind. She nodded at the dark-skinned servant girl who smiled back timidly. ¡ª ¡®I¡¯m sorry it took a while longer than expected. We¡¯ve been busy preparing for the banquet.¡¯ The other two servants maintained their vacant gaze towards the ceiling, unaffected by Mara¡¯s glutenous eagerness. They all waited. Eventually, after finishing one bento box, she slowed down. ¡®Lady Mara has an admirable appetite.¡¯ The servant girl said, with a flustered but polite smile. ¡®I¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I forget my manners when I¡¯m hungry.¡¯ Mara said, embarrassment at last seeping in. ¡®Please, don¡¯t apologise! Mr Mammon noticed that the last meal was not to your liking. He chose these dishes for you personally.¡¯ Mara frowned. That Mammon guy. Was he using her love for food to get her to submit? Was he trying to make up for how his master behaved? No matter. She wouldn¡¯t be bought so easily! Then she reached for another luscious gyoza piece. ¡ª ¡®Can I ask, what is your name?¡¯ ¡®I-I¡¯m Miina.¡¯ ¡®Miina. A beautiful name.¡¯ ¡ª Mara smiled. ¡ª ¡®It is very nice to meet you, Miina.¡¯ Miina smiled brightly and almost bowed, but then caught herself. This wasn¡¯t how a grey servant moved. Mara appreciated her clumsiness. It somehow made everything seem less hopeless. Looking closely, perhaps Miina¡¯s awkwardness was the only thing they had in common; she just stood out too much from her dead companions. Her smooth skin, her round grey eyes under her long lashes¡­ she was absolutely stunning. She just didn¡¯t seem to fit in with the others. ¡®Miina¡­ do you mind me asking. Are you a human? Like me?¡¯ It was odd, but Miina seemed to ponder before answering. ¡®I think I was¡­ once, a long time ago.¡¯ ¡®Forgive me, but you don¡¯t seem too sure.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m a soul¡­ a human soul.¡¯ ¡®Do you not remember?¡¯ ¡®It is difficult with the grey on us every day.¡¯ She said with a weak smile. ¡®The grey?¡¯ ¡®The colour, grey. It is the colour they use on us slaves. The colour of submission? They use it on us every day to ensure we perform our duties.¡¯ The colour of submission. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Mara recalled the explosion of grey that horned lunatic threw at her before. Twice! So he intended to control her. To put her in a spell of sorts so she would submit to him. How dare he? She snapped one of the crab legs. ¡®Lady Mara?¡¯ The girl asked, fearfully. ¡®I¡¯m sorry, I was just lost in thought.¡¯ ¡ª She chewed on the crabmeat. ¡ª ¡®It¡¯s just, you seem different from them.¡¯ ¡ª Mara nodded to the zombie servants. ¡ª ¡®You don¡¯t have any injuries and you¡¯re not missing body parts, and you can talk with your mind like the Shinigami and the tailed guy, Mammon.¡¯ ¡®The Shinigami¡­? I¡¯m not sure I understand¡­¡¯ ¡®Mammon called him Lucifer.¡¯ ¡ª Mara waved it off. ¡ª ¡®Oh, and please, it¡¯s just Mara.¡¯ A smile lit Miina¡¯s face. ¡®Oh, Prince Lucifer. Everyone here calls him Prince Lucious, though.¡¯ ¡®Lucious¡­ ,¡¯ Miina nodded brightly. Mara tried not to linger on him, not wanting to spoil her delightful meal. ¡®So why are you different from the other servants? They don¡¯t even look alive.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m not really sure. The grey has erased much of my memories. It¡¯s just that every morning, a few moments after the dowsing of grey, I¡¯m myself again. It doesn¡¯t happen to anyone else. So I just try to go along with it.¡¯ ¡®You mean you pretend to go along with it? Why?¡¯ Miina nodded. She seemed ashamed. ¡®It wouldn¡¯t be safe for me otherwise. Being different here can be dangerous. There¡¯s no telling what they would do if they discovered me and I¡¯ve seen servants being discarded for less.¡¯ ¡®Discarded? You mean like fired?¡¯ Miina looked straight at Mara. Her serious stare was so uncharacteristic for a moment, it almost made her recoil. ¡®No. They¡¯re sent outside the walls to roam from kingdom to kingdom until the grey wears off. None of them ever return. Hell is a dangerous place for unprotected souls like me. It¡¯s not just the creatures; some nobles have specific and vicious tastes for lost grey servants.¡¯ Mara swallowed, unsure she wanted to ask more. ¡®Miina¡­ do you remember anything about your life? Like where you come from? How did you end up here? Were you taken too?¡¯ Miina¡¯s stare became haunted and distant. ¡®I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t pry.¡¯ ¡®No, it¡¯s nothing. I think I am close to remembering. I think I had a big family¡­ once with lots of sisters, but that¡¯s really all I remember.¡¯ She said with a meek smile. It looked painful, trying to remember. Again, it seemed he had more in common with Miina than she imagined. She wanted to hear more, to help her somehow and perhaps see her smile genuinely. But was she even in a position to help someone else right now? Then, as if a someone had flicked her inner light, Miina brightened and her eyes shone with life. ¡®It is not all bad here! Mr Mammon, he helps and looks out for me. He seems very serious and strict, but I know he is a good person.¡¯ ¡®Really?¡¯ ¡ª Mara said with disdain. ¡ª ¡®He doesn¡¯t seem the type to care much about anything besides his precious master. Does he know you¡¯re pretending to be a servant?¡¯ Miina smiled awkwardly and shook her head. She seemed to avoid her gaze just then. Was she this shy all the time? Or maybe she just didn¡¯t want to keep talking about how she was living her life, pretending to be someone else. ¡®He is a wolf-warrior, did you know? They are a highly distinguished and respected clan in Hell. King Satan selects them for his own personal guard and his family¡¯s. I heard that when he was young, master Lucious handpicked Mr Mammon himself. This caused a lot of commotion because Mr Mammon wasn¡¯t even allowed to be a warrior. He was different you see, a half-breed. The wolf clan would never allow a half-breed into their warrior ranks, let alone serve royalty,¡¯ ¡ª Here Mara held the bowl of miso just inches from her mouth. It was difficult to imagine the prideful Mammon not being worthy of something. ¡ª ¡®but Master Lucious didn¡¯t care and didn¡¯t want anyone else.¡¯ ¡ª Miina continued, oblivious. ¡ª ¡®He¡¯s proven time and time what an honourable and exceptional warrior he is. He should really be in the official military ranks, but wolves aren¡¯t allowed that yet because of the laws. But we hear the general nobles praising him all the time, wishing he was in their service. Even young wolf warriors from his clan coming to Court, only to serve under him. He just will not leave prince Lucious¡¯ side. Oh, and he¡¯s so popular among the noble ladies! Even the married ones! He is just so handsome and so refined! He¡¯s refused them all and prefers his own company and his work. So amazing.¡¯ Well, even a dry guy like that has his own admirers, it seems. Miina looked like she could talk about him for the rest of the day. Mara held on to her doubts quietly. No matter how impressive the butler was, he was still helping her captor. What kind of honourable deed was that, then? *gyoza - a specific type of half-moon shaped Japanese dumplings; traditional gyoza is filled with minced pork and vegetables. *prawn tempura - typical Japanese battered and deep fried prawns. *miso soup - traditional Japanese soup consisting of a dashi stock (family of stocks used in Japanese cuisine;) into which softened miso paste is mixed. Chapter 5.1 - A Rare Soul ¡®Miina, can I ask you something else, please?¡¯ ¡®Please Lady Ma-, I mean¡­ Mara, ask me anything.¡¯ Miina¡¯s eyes smiled. ¡®Have you ever heard of anyone called Louis here?¡¯ Miina¡¯s eyes went up in thought. ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know his last name. He would be around our age. Black hair¡­ probably from a rich family? He can use this power, the colours! And he can speak with his mind too.¡¯ ¡®Oh, I¡¯m sorry Mara, I haven¡¯t heard of him.¡¯ Another moment of silence followed. Hoping to shake her hopelessness, Mara finally acknowledged the dresses. ¡®What are those for?¡¯ ¡®They are for you!¡¯ Miina said, too eager, hardly keeping up the zombie pretence anymore. ¡®For me?¡¯ ¡®They are gowns for tonight¡¯s royal banquet! Mr Mammon ordered us to bring three so you could choose.¡¯ ¡®A¡­ royal banquet?¡¯ ¡®Yes! Queen Odiva organises them every month. It is a very high-class event.¡¯ ¡®Yeah¡­ OK¡­ I¡¯ll not be going to that.¡¯ Miina¡¯s eyes widened. ¡®Not going? Are you not feeling well? Was it the food?!¡¯ Mara finished the Miso soup and calmly set the bowl down. ¡®It¡¯s nothing like that. My situation is a bit¡­ complicated. I¡¯m here against my will and I¡¯m being asked for things I have no clue how to answer. I¡¯ve not even been outside of this room since I got here¡­ however long that¡¯s been. Perhaps going to this banquet would change the scenery and all, but it would just be another distraction and maybe even send the wrong message about my being here. I have to focus on how to get home.¡¯ Miina nodded ever so slightly and seemed keen to reassure her. ¡®Human souls are precious here in Hell. They¡¯re irresistible for consumption. Nobles even use them as part of major negotiations. Major battles are fought because of souls and many die just for a taste one.¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t understand... are you saying they brought me here to¡­ consume me?¡¯ ¡®I don''t think so. Lord Lucious and his family don¡¯t need to do that. They are the royal family, pure bloods; they¡¯ve stopped needing to consume souls a long time ago. It¡¯s everyone else around them, nobles mostly. I¡¯m thinking that he¡¯s keeping you here because you are a rare soul and for your own protection.¡¯ Mara didn¡¯t yet know Miina well, but she found the girl observed her with a strange, bewildering look. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡®But then why take me to this banquet? Wouldn¡¯t that be more dangerous to expose me like?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m not sure. It is strange. But you would go with master Lucious and Mr Mammon would be nearby too. No noble in their right mind would dare even look at you the wrong way. People will see you as his soul.¡¯ ¡®Is that why Pox is standing out there? Is it-¡­ is he still out there?¡¯ Miina smiled and nodded. Somehow, it still didn¡¯t reassure her. ¡®Miina¡­ why do you say my soul is rare?¡¯ Miina¡¯s expression was serene as she spoke. ¡®We all see them differently, but it¡¯s easy to see how unique yours is. It is a flame burning, extremely strong, and has many layers that keep on changing. Not one, but several beautiful burning flames. I¡¯ve not seen one like it before. Most souls that end up here don¡¯t have a flame at all. They are mostly faded and flat.¡¯ Miina¡¯s gaze lingered, as if she observed something in Mara¡¯s core that put her in a trance of sorts. She slumped. What Miina said would be delightful and even flattering under different circumstances. However, the harsh reality was that she was still being held captive for unknown purposes. Perhaps Lucious saw the same and was coveting her soul and have her reveal secrets she might not even be aware she possessed. Also, if he really wanted to protect her, why bring her to Satan¡¯s lair at all? All of this was hopeless. She just wanted to go home. Her eyes welled up. ¡®Mara¡­¡¯ ¡ª Miina tempted, ¡ª ¡®It will be alright.¡¯ ¡®We don¡¯t really know that. That man, Lucious, he wants something from me I¡¯m not sure I can give him. He is going to realise that I actually can¡¯t help him and then what¡¯s going to happen? Is he going to have these nobles feed on my soul?¡¯ For a second, Miina seemed lost for words. ¡®This man you asked about before, Louis? If he holds the power of the colours as you say, he must be a high-noble.¡¯ ¡®A high-noble?¡¯ ¡®If he is, he will be at the banquet. It¡¯s an event for nobility, and if you are looking for him, that is the best place to start!¡¯ Mara rubbed her eyes. Lucious had told her there was no one there by that name. If he was a high-ranking noble, wouldn¡¯t he know about him? Could he have lied? It wasn¡¯t unreasonable to think so. ¡®Miina, you¡¯re a little genius!¡¯ ¡®Lovely! Shall we try some of these dresses then?¡¯ ¡®Wait, was this your aim all along? To get me to try these?¡¯ Miina¡¯s smile could not hide her eagerness. ¡®I wasn¡¯t really made for fancy gowns. ¡ª She sighed. ¡ª ¡®They never fit me well. Can we wait a while longer? I also ate too much just now.¡¯ She said, caressing her stomach. ¡®¡­ that was a lot of food.¡¯ Miina nodded. ¡®I¡¯m used to curling up with my dog after meals like this. I really miss him. Shiro. This is the longest we¡¯ve been apart. I wish I knew at least that he was alright.¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m sure he is. Lord Lucious is the kindest in the royal family. He wouldn¡¯t just leave your dog unattended.¡¯ Mara gave her a dubious look. Associating kindness with her captor was something impossible for her. He did not show one ounce of goodwill or concern for her; not at first, and definitely not after the last time she saw him. Worse, he tried to subdue her with his weird power! If he was the kindest one in his family, she hoped she¡¯d never have to meet the rest of them. *** Mammon stood behind the slightly ajar door, but decided he had intruded enough. He moved away a few steps and held his chin in thought. If Lucious was to get anywhere with Mara, he would have to meet her halfway. Just like them, the girl seemed just as clueless about her mysterious power. Forcing her to cooperate would not get them anywhere. He finally noticed Pox shifting his weight where he always stood and staring down at his with a raised eyebrow. People used the mind talk secretly, so not to be overheard by others, but Mammon somehow found his way around that. He gave Pox a sunny smile and pressed his index finger on his lips. ¡®No harm done. Sometimes one cannot idly wait for the fruit to ripen on its tree.¡¯ ¡ª He sighed. ¡ª ¡®Seems I¡¯ll be making a trip up above.¡¯ Pox grunted. ¡®Hmm, unsightly, I know. Alas, it must be done.¡¯ Chapter 6 - A Human Worthy of Some Respect It was night on earth when Mammon landed on Mara¡¯s balcony. He, too kept his mouth and nose covered, just like his master had before. Though his reasons, however were more for hygiene and self preservation. It was unclean, this odour of humans and their cities. Most demons would relish in the stench of corruption and the sweat of desperation, but it was far too much for his delicate wolf nose. This was just another reason he would forever be a misfit among his fellow demons. Shiro was on him immediately, barking. ¡®Good to see that you still have enough energy, friend.¡¯ Shiro¡¯s barks came to a stop and whimpers replaced them as Mammon squatted to greet his new friend. ¡®You are big. Your master treats you well.¡¯ Shiro groaned, sniffed and then licked his hands, searching. Mammon retrieved a small pouch from his side pocket, unwrapped it, and placed it on the floor. Inside were thick biscuits, which Shiro sniffed and then gobbled with greed. ¡®Eat up, my friend. Your master awaits and she will not see you starved. She misses you an awful lot.¡¯ How over the centuries, humans domesticated his kind he would never understand (or accept). He wondered what his clan would think of Shiro. Probably send him straight to the slave pen. His only worth would be to serve other warriors and do basic tasks, like he was made to do once. But this was a long time ago, why think of it now? He stood up and looked around. The darkness of the room didn¡¯t bother him, his wolf eyes saw what they needed. He pottered about the place. It was crude, although he could see her attempts to improve it. It also desperately needed a good wipe down. Focus! He wasn¡¯t here to clean her flat! She had filled the place with photographs and paintings of various sizes on the walls and shelves. He recognised the older couple as her parents. There were a multitude of small children in various photographs, which he assumed was more family. Then he saw her with a young man wearing glasses. Particularly in that picture, her smile seemed more genuine. She was relaxed and happy next to this young man, much like she used to look like when she was younger. How long would it be until Lucious saw that smile again? If he didn¡¯t change his attitude, maybe not so soon. Looking closer, he recognised this wavy haired young man in the picture. He was that friend she made while at University. They had become inseparable then. Lucious had mentioned him before and it seemed to predetermine his foul moods, often tempting him to irrational measures. It used to take an immeasurable effort to dissuade him from acting out on his jealousy. Then one day it all stopped. Suddenly, the man was no longer a threat. At the time he said the man was harmless and his interest in Mara was that of a sibling. They never spoke of it again and the man faded in their memories, but looking at this picture now, Mammon could see why his master had been so tormented to begin with: there was a strong bond between these two. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He moved to her small art studio and, even though he wore the mask, the smells of paint hit him hard. He was forced to bring his hand to protect his sensitive olfactory nerves. What he saw next took him by surprise. Hell¡¯s colours, they were there, in her paintings. She had captured their unique likeness so precisely. There were various canvasses around, but Mammon moved to the three largest ones in the middle of the room. He touched the dried paint on the one in the middle. The young boy, with porcelain skin, wasn¡¯t he young Lucious? Even having his face relatively blurred, everything matched so perfectly. Those were his eyes, he could never mistake them. This would¡¯ve been around the time they met, when he and his father had visited their clan. When he picked him. Lucious was a happy child back then, cheerfully smiling, rambling and asking endless and long-winded questions about everything. Even as he was now, hardened by grief and pain, there was still some of that merry child within him. Perhaps he was the only one that saw that now. He got so much better at withholding his feelings. What would be like today if they hadn¡¯t lost Beelzebub? Would he have kept the innocence like the child in this picture? Mammon pulled his hand back, closed it in a fist. This had to work. He would go back to being the way he was once they got Beelzebub back. With Mara back in his life, there was still hope. She would open a new path for him. The last painting to his right caught his eye. Underneath the blurred face, the wistful, detached eyes were there. She had captured all of him¡­ as he is now? No, there was something more. He had a scar in this painting, but besides that, it was him. How? It shouldn¡¯t be possible. The last time Mara saw him, they were children. She couldn¡¯t have seen him in his adulthood. Over the years Lucious continued to watch her, but always from afar, never revealing himself to her. Or had he kept it from him? No, that couldn¡¯t be, not when it came to Mara. He was the only one he had opened up to about her during all these years. Still, it made no sense. The more he looked at that painting, the more unquestionable it was: it was Lucious. The doorbell sounded then, and a light started flashing repeatedly. Then Shiro ran in excitedly and started barking. Chapter 6.1 - A Human Worthy of Some Respect Haru hurried through the crowded streets of Asakusa, trying his best not to knock people in his wake. People that looked at their phones whilst walking had always irritated him, but now he had no choice but to do it himself. This was an emergency. Mara had not replied to any of his messages for three days. It wasn¡¯t like her to do this; not with the exhibition coming; not to him. Even if she had lost her phone, (which she had several times in the past) she knew his number by memory, she would¡¯ve reached out. At worst, Haru hoped she was just panicking about the next phase of her career. It was a scary change for her to throw away her anonymity she had so carefully built over the years. Now that he thought about it, she might have never been fully on board with it. Had he pushed too hard? So hard that she pulled away from it all? He got to the building and pressed her buzzer a few too many times. There was no answer. She could be in the studio, absorbed in her work; it happened before and she would miss the light flashing. But then Shiro would normally alert her too. He pressed again and again and nothing. A couple was just leaving the building and, though he hated doing it, he squeezed inside before the door closed, nervously avoiding the couple¡¯s looks. He hurried to the lift. It was too slow! These things had a will of their own always seeking to contradict the flow of time against one¡¯s own urgency. With nothing else to do, he checked his phone again. He had sent hundreds of texts that went unanswered. Mr Takeda¡¯s kind expression came to him, his genuine gratitude for looking after his only and precious daughter. This wasn¡¯t happening, not on his watch. This had to be a miscommunication, there was just no room for any other possibility, not one that he could handle. After what seemed like an eternity, the lift stopped on Mara¡¯s floor. The doors barely opened and Haru could already hear Shiro¡¯s barks. He took a deep breath. Had he panicked for no reason? So then, why wasn¡¯t she replying to his texts? No, something was still off. He needed to see her face. He would worry about being paranoid later. Haru reached the door with a motion to bang on it, but he stopped and cursed under his breath. Of course she wouldn¡¯t hear! Shiro¡¯s barks were louder now and he could hear its paws scratching at the door. The dog was there, this was a good sign. Mara hardly went anywhere without it. His pessimism, however, had other intentions and kept scratching at him; what if she had hurt herself? What if she was so hurt she could not answer the door? The thought gave him chills. He lifted the doormat, and the spare key was there. He was thankful that she never listened to his advice about finding a less obvious hiding place. Shiro was all over him as soon as he stepped in, as usual. Haru greeted him with loving pats and looked around. It was dark. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®Where is she, boy? Are you alone?¡¯ Shiro licked and furrowed his way close to Haru as his only answer. Haru wandered further inside the flat. He turned on the light in the living room, hoping this would attract Mara¡¯s attention, but what he saw instead startled him stiff. A man in dark clothes was there. He was wearing a mask. Was it a man? Everything about him seemed unnatural: His flashy silver hair and his long and furry¡­ tail? A thief in costume? The man stood so still that for a moment Haru thought perhaps he was a mannequin. Until he moved. Slowly, he removed one glove, never taking his silver eyes off of him; even the way he moved made him seem like a resplendent apparition. Haru found himself mesmerised. He stepped back once and his hand searched for Shiro while never taking his eyes off of this shady person. ¡®Who are you? What are you doing here? Where is Mara?¡¯ His eyes couldn''t follow what came next. Flashing silver eyes hunted for him and in the next second, the man was upon him; a wolf with its prey. An iron grip seized his neck, slammed and lifted him up against the wall, his legs dangling as if he weighed nothing. Haru choked for air and his hands clawed at his attacker¡¯s hold, but like a fly on a spider¡¯s net, it was useless. The man¡¯s eyes were completely grey and shone with a strange brightness as he squeezed. Haru knew then that his death was close; he stared right at it in the face. A simple snap of his neck would end it all. He heard the man whisper some words he didn¡¯t understand, some foreign dialect. His eyes flashed twice, emitting a light so bright that it forced his eyes shut. The damage was done. The grip on his neck loosened and Haru fell on his knees and then on his front, with his glasses falling off. He felt dizzy and couldn¡¯t cough or breathe in for air. It stung too much to open his eyes. His body was limp, his ears ringing and the stinging noise muffled out all sounds, even Shiro¡¯s barks. He had never experienced this level of exhaustion, fear, and pain in his life. Not when he ran the Hakone Ekiden marathon for his University and passed out at the end; not when he was outed in school and then constantly bullied. Or when he was homeless that same week after he came out to his father. Not even when, outside of *Nich¨­, drunken homophobes beat him to an inch of his life and he was hospitalised for months. No, this felt like the true end. There was a distant thumping and he wondered if that was his own heart. The buzzing sound in his head was just too strong to make sense of anything else. Maybe he would just lay there, wait for death to claim him. Maybe it would¡¯ve been preferable to have his neck snapped quickly; this pain was just too unbearable. Then Mara flashed in his mind. Her timid yet hopeful smile and a smudge of paint on her cheek. Had she suffered the same fate? It horrified him to even imagine it. To die like this, not having done anything to help her, petrified him even more. He moved. Or twitched. He still couldn¡¯t hear, but he felt the heavy steps on the floor. The man was walking close to him. With tremendous effort, gritting his teeth, Haru squinted; his head throbbed with pain, but he kept trying. He wasn¡¯t sure what he could do, but he had to pick up on something. Perhaps he could see what the man did next. If he somehow survived this, he would need every single detail. His eyes burned, and the light in the ceiling felt like the midday sun burning his eyelids. Still, he followed the vibrations of the man¡¯s footsteps and saw him crouch near a four-pawed silhouette, Shiro. *Nich¨­ - or ¡°Ni-Chome,¡± in Shinjuku, Tokyo is a buzzing, neon-lit gay quarter in East Shinjuku. Chapter 6.2 - A Human Worthy of Some Respect Mammon knelt and calmed Shiro with just one look; then he rewarded him with gentle patting around its face and chest. Of all the days, of all the places, of all the hellish hours in the night, this human had to show up here now. These people¡­ ever the inconvenient bunch. He didn¡¯t ignore the fact that he recognised this human as Mara¡¯s university friend. That would be the only reason he was still breathing. If they were to gain Mara¡¯s trust, it would not bode well to eliminate him. It could jeopardise Lucious¡¯ plan and he simply couldn¡¯t have that. He couldn¡¯t see in which scenario just yet, but there was no telling when he could become useful. Of course, he could still do it¡­ kill him, that is¡­ With the smallest effort, leaving no trace, other humans would just declare him missing. These things happened on earth too often, and no one with greater capacity involved themselves. Not the humans in the *Conclave, that much was known; they had arrangements with hungry demon nobles where they offered them souls in exchange for a luxurious life-style, while the demons gorged and made earth their side-lined soul-hunting grounds. When the demon lords boasted about their latest savagery during such Conclave gatherings, no one batted an eye in protest, especially not their suppliers, the humans themselves. Even to their own kind, humans were despicably greedy. Ergo, there wouldn¡¯t be an issue if he just did it¡­ Except he found the practice spineless¡­ He despised humans for what they did to his kind, and generally their abhorrent behaviour, but sneaking on easy prey and cowardly kills was not the way of the warrior wolf. They faced their targets head on, and on equal footing. Unarmed humans were just too pitiful to kill. Besides, this human was no longer a threat, and tomorrow he would remember nothing of this. He would be thirsty like he had spent days in the desert, then sport a splitting headache for the next few days and he would go back to his carefree life. Slight movement caught the corner of his eye and he looked down. His eyes widened: the human was moving. Was he trying to open his eyes? Impossible. The pain he had inflicted, he knew, would be unbearable, excruciating even. Lower demons with the strength and vitality of five human men would have succumbed by now. Yet, this small human, somehow¡­ What was he trying to do? By fighting it, he was only causing more pain for himself. ¡®Ma-ra¡­ Mara,¡¯ he moaned, his voice breaking. Mammon had never used his power on a human before, but judging the effect it had on his enemies, he had considerably reduced its potency, just enough so not to kill or permanently damage the man. Maybe he had been too gentle. ¡®Where is she? Please don-¡­ don¡¯t hurt h-her.¡¯ The more he spoke, the more in pain he sounded. Fool. No matter how strong willed he was, if he kept this up, he would only be hurting himself more. After a short pause, Mammon walked to Mara¡¯s studio. When he returned, he squatted beside the human who was now sweating profusely and could no longer utter words. Mammon pressed a folded piece of paper into his hand. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. For the second time that night, his old memories flooded in, remembering a time when he knew what it was like to suffer under the grip of this power. He was thin and frail back then, and stubbornly tried to fight it too, just like this halfwit. But no matter how weak he was, he was still a demon wolf. Not only did he have to survive the attacks, he had to conquer this power; to master it, in order to gain the respect of his clan. It had never amounted to anything, no matter what he did. Not until Lucious came along and chose him. He felt then what it was like to be regarded with true respect. What could this human be holding on to? What could he possibly have to prove? ¡®Ma-ra¡­ please¡­¡¯ the human trembled. He reached for the human¡¯s forehead and felt his temperature. It was much higher than normal. Maybe he did use too much of his power. This mortal, maybe he did not have powers like Mara, but he was different. He took this pain, embraced it and refused to give in. That commanded respect. He was worthy of some. Something held Mammon in place, close to the man. He had decided that at the very least, he would not leave him on the floor. He lifted him in his arms with minimal effort and felt his head tilt on his chest. His racing, shivering breaths became shallow and slowed down as he finally passed out. The man was strong-willed, but the mind does not always command the body. He placed the human on the sofa, picked up and put his glasses on the coffee table, then he turned off the light and checked on him one last time. His body was already relaxing as he drifted further into a deep sleep; his sweats and shivers were disappearing. The darkness was always useful against the effects of his power. Mammon pulled a blanket he found by the sofa and placed it over him. He checked the note one final time. It was still there, clutched in his hand. Crouching next to Shiro, he concentrated and in the next moment, the two vanished. ** The first few rays of sunlight invaded Mara¡¯s living room, and Haru opened his eyes. His eyelids were heavy, his vision blurry, and the morning light felt like stabbing rays. He reached over to protect his eyes from this natural but vicious attack, only to scrunch up a piece of paper in his face. He let it fall on the sofa. Between moans and groans, he felt his voice croaky, as if he had spent the night shouting it raw. And he was fiendishly thirsty! He attempted to lift himself from the sofa, but only managed his head before it fell back on the cushion. Every inch of his body hurt, and he felt like he weighed five times his normal weight. Had he been drinking? Fighting? Both?! Though instead of fighting, maybe he was just beaten up. He couldn¡¯t remember, but his body was trying to tell him a vivid tale. Then he felt himself quite constricted under a blanket and he had slept in his clothes. He squinted across the room enough to realise this was not his house. With more grunts of pain and holding his head, he forced himself to sit up, finally recognising Mara¡¯s flat. When he moved to get up, his hand pressed against the small piece of paper he had dismissed earlier. This time he unfolded it, and it read: Drink some water, you will be very thirsty. Mara is safe. He grabbed his glasses and read the note again and again, his breathing becoming increasingly erratic. He shot himself up, his pain nearly forgotten, but his panic was far greater. Wracking his brain, he wrestled for the missing pieces of the previous night. That''s right, he came looking for Mara, but she wasn¡¯t here, only Shiro¡­ . He reached for his phone in his pocket and checked it, but there were no messages or missed calls. His hands trembled. There had been something else, someone else... silver eyes¡­ Haru gasped. He made a start for the door, but his head pounded so hard it forced him to his knees, and he held it. He kept his eyes shut as it helped with the throbbing. In flashes, he saw sharp, shinning eyes coming for him. His face was covered, the man with silver hair. Nothing made sense! He couldn¡¯t tell real from dream anymore; his mind felt as though it would break if he pushed too hard. One thing at least he knew felt real: That piece of paper he now squeezed in his hand. It did not just write itself. Chapter 7 - What Have you Done to My Dog?! An unimpressed Pox gripped his axe as Shiro hovered, sniffed, and jumped on and around him. ¡®Oh, come on Pox, loosen up. This is one of our most esteemed guests. You would do well to give him a warm welcome.¡¯ Mammon said casually. Pox shifted his eyes down to Mammon and grunted. Like a tenacious fly, Shiro did not back down. Between Pox''s legs, he snuggled in and rolled around; he raised himself on two legs, only to reach Pox¡¯s knees; he even showed him his best and irresistible puppy eyes. Still, Pox hardly blinked. ¡®He¡¯s nothing but an insect to you, isn¡¯t he?¡¯ Mammon sighed. Pox narrowed his eyes. Mammon gave the giant ox a teasing smile, then asked, ¡®Any trouble while I was gone? Has he been to see her?¡¯ Pox shook his head. ¡®Good. That means he will be here soon.¡¯ ¡ª Mammon reached for the door, but then paused. ¡ª ¡®And Leviathan? Any sign of him?¡¯ Again Pox shook his head. Mammon said nothing, squeezed the handle and pushed the door open, allowing Shiro inside. Shiro ran to Mara¡¯s arms as she stared at him in blatant shock. Tears rolled down her cheeks as they lovingly greeted each other. ¡®How? How did you bring him here?¡¯ she asked with her mind. ¡®Much like you were. He was just more, how shall I say¡­ compliant?¡¯ Her joy was too great to make note of the jest. She held on to Shiro as if he could disappear at any moment. It made little sense that the snobbish Mammon would go to lengths to bring him to her, but then she thought back to Miina¡¯s remarks about the warrior wolf. She lifted her eyes to him, and there he was with that smile that never seemed trustworthy. But maybe there was more to him after all. ¡®Thank you.¡¯ She whispered aloud. ¡®Oh sorry, I didn¡¯t quite catch that?¡¯ Her smiled turned into a scowl. ¡®I said thank you. For bringing Shiro.¡¯ ¡®Oh, no need for that. We will do anything to make your stay more pleasant.¡¯ ¡®We? You mean¡­¡¯ ¡®Yes, of course, my master too.¡¯ Mara remained dubious, but Shiro¡¯s licks were quick to wipe her frown and made her giggle beyond herself. ¡®You haven¡¯t disciplined him much, Shiro.¡¯ ¡®Not more than necessary. I know he¡¯s all over the place and he forgets his size, but I love him just as he is. I couldn¡¯t imagine him any other way.¡¯ Mammon¡¯s expression softened. ¡®Well, he loves you too. He is very loyal to you.¡¯ ¡®He¡¯s my best friend; my family.¡¯ If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡®And you his.¡¯ ¡®The way you say that¡­ it¡¯s like you know anything about Shiro and me.¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s plain to see, for one, but we got to know each other well during our brief journey. Turns out he¡¯s a distant cousin of mine, go figure.¡¯ ¡®Is he now?¡¯ ¡ª She looked sideways, coming off flatter than she intended. ¡ª ¡®So he was in my flat all this time? He doesn¡¯t seem hungry at all. Hasn¡¯t it been a few days at least?¡¯ ¡®We sorted that too. He won¡¯t be hungry for a while.¡¯ ¡®I see.¡¯ ¡ª She replied. She was grateful, of course, but something about Mammon¡¯s closeness to Shiro made her envious. ¡ª ¡®I wish you would¡¯ve told me you were going. I would¡¯ve asked to at least leave a message for my agent, Haru. He must be worried sick.¡¯ Mammon put on his teasing smile again. It was as if he wore it as a mask to cover his true intentions. ¡®Indeed, a shame, but wouldn¡¯t it have spoiled the surprise? If it bothers you that much, we can send word to this Haru. Let him know you¡¯re well.¡¯ ¡®Oh, that would be-¡¯ The doors flew open and Lucious walked in. He wore his customary dark mask, but this one only covered a portion of his face, leaving his mouth and one eye out. It no longer shocked her. Miina had told her that it was customary for royalty to cover their faces. Not only to show that they were royals, but some of these masks also worked as power enhancers or limiters. Regardless of what he wore on his face, it was plain to see he looked annoyed. ¡®I¡¯m told you¡¯re giving the servants a hard time about the outfits for the banquet tonight.¡¯ He said in his usual haughty tone. He hardly finished his sentence and Shiro was on him, surprising him. Lucious was clumsy in his attempt to placate the sudden large and heavy intrusion, but Shiro couldn¡¯t sniff and lick him enough. ¡®What is this thing? What¡¯s it doing here?¡¯ He spoke aloud, but Mara read his lips. ¡®This thing?!¡¯ ¡®Mammon, can we please do something about this!¡¯ Lucious said as he struggled to keep his composure and his mask from being plucked off of his face. His arms flailed now, but Shiro was relentless. Mara stifled a giggle and made no efforts to call Shiro back. To see the prince of Hell looking so clumsy and unable to control a dog, was something for the history books. Mammon too must¡¯ve found it amusing; his face was straight but his tail was wagging. Suddenly, unable to contain herself, Mara¡¯s unrestrained laughter filled the room. Lucious stopped for a moment, just keeping Shiro at bay, and watched her. Even Mammon glanced at her with surprise, but then quickly offered a satisfied nod. It made her too self-conscious, forcing her laughter to vanish just as fast as it came. This certainly wasn¡¯t the time to be laughing. She was supposed to be an enraged kidnappee! Seeing Shiro again must have clouded her mind momentarily. As if to remind Lucious that he was still there, Shiro gained more ground and forced him on his backside. The dog was dangerously close to overtaking him. He cleared his throat, and in his most humourless tone addressed Mara. ¡®Can you pull your beast away, please?¡¯ ¡®He''s not a beast, his name is Shiro. And I have a hands-free policy with him. When he jumps on you like that, he just wants a cuddle and then he¡¯ll leave you alone.¡¯ She attempted to respond in kind, she hoped. ¡®Argh, Mammon!¡¯ ¡®Yes, master Lucious.¡¯ ¡®I know you¡¯re finding this amusing. But it¡¯s enough now.¡¯ ¡®I see. How can I help?¡¯ ¡®I don''t care! Just make it so he doesn¡¯t knock me about.¡¯ ¡®Alright, let¡¯s see. Shiro, come.¡¯ It was all it took for Shiro to obediently move to Mammon¡¯s side. Mara¡¯s eyes widened. Shiro had never been that docile. The wolf warrior greeted him with pats over his head, and Shiro sat without even being commanded to. Mammon whispered words to him now. At the same time, he reached for a pouch from his inner jacket pocket and fed him what looked like to be some biscuits. Shiro gulped them down without hesitation. ¡®I thought you said he ate earlier?¡¯ ¡®He did, this is just a snack of sorts.¡¯ It wasn¡¯t long before the transformation began. Lucious used the opportunity to stand up and dust himself off. ¡®What¡¯s happening?!¡¯ Mara said aloud. ¡®Please don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s perfectly safe. He is going to be fine.¡¯ Shiro, unaware, carried on, but the more he ate, the smaller he became. By the time Mara reached him, he had already swallowed the last piece of the biscuits. When she held him, Shiro was a small pup. Even his barks and yips were wimpy as he attempted to reach her face like he did just moments before, but now couldn¡¯t reach. Mara knelt on the floor with a disturbing mix of disbelief, fascination and endearment. ¡®What¡­ what have you done to my dog...?!!¡¯ Chapter 7.1 - What Have You Done To My Dog?! ¡®The grown-ups can have a conversation now. He¡¯s perfectly fine.¡¯ ¡®What did you give him?¡¯ Mara asked, unnerved as she cradled her pup. ¡®A bit of *Kiec. A delicacy from my kingdom.¡¯ ¡®A delicacy?! It shrank my dog!¡¯ Mara struggled to emulate her feelings. She was in disbelief, but her heart warmed every time she looked at tiny Shiro, her fingers caressing his small snout; she couldn''t tell if she was shocked, or just in love again. ¡®It¡¯s perfectly harmless. Depending on the desired outcome, the Kiec can also act as a nourishing snack. Really it depends on what the owner wants. Here it helped reverse some undesirable¡­ behaviour.¡¯ ¡®Shiro was just playing. You would know that if you got to know each other so well, like you said you did.¡¯ ¡®True. Alas my master commanded me. I had to do something. I say again, this is harmless, and the effects are temporary.¡¯ ¡®You mean he will go back to the way he was?¡¯ ¡®Of course, soon enough.¡¯ Mammon added his trademark smile she so hated. Mara observed Shiro once more. He did look fine, blissfully unbothered by this change. She admitted that it felt good to hold him in her arms. He was just this small when her father brought him to her all those years ago. ¡®Can we get back to the issue at hand now?¡¯ Lucious cut in. Mara glared at him. ¡®The servants have come here several times to get you to try the outfits, but you keep sending them away. Stop wasting their time. They have other things to do than to cater to your whims. Just pick one, any kind will do.¡¯ ¡®I will not.¡¯ She replied. Her response was so flat and so final it visibly threw him off. ¡®What?¡¯ ¡®I know you heard me. I will not be trying those dresses.¡¯ Lucious closed his fist and inhaled. ¡®This is not a request. Yet you act like you have a choice in the matter.¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t really care.¡¯ Lucious advanced a few steps towards her. ¡®You don¡¯t realise what¡¯s at stake! Not even Pox will be able to protect you if you keep this up. My father-¡¯ ¡®Aaah! I see, so you kidnap me, lock me up here for however long, don¡¯t even bother to tell me the reason, you have my dog shrunk my dog and now you make these ludicrous demands?! Dressing me up for a fancy banquet? What¡¯s so important about wearing fancy clothing if it is so dangerous, as you say?¡¯ ¡®It is dangerous! And I didn¡¯t shrink your dog. Mammon did that.¡¯ ¡®Mammon did it because you asked him to!¡¯ He shook his head. ¡®That¡¯s not¡­ . What is it you want then? Do you want to stand out even more by just wearing a jumper and jeans?¡¯ ¡®Why not?¡¯ He turned around and paced. ¡®Or¡­ or¡­ argh!! Why are you so stubborn! There are bigger things happening here, why can¡¯t you just understand that! I should put you in a dungeon and see how you like it.¡¯ She couldn¡¯t hear him now, but it was clear he was yelling. Part of her relished at seeing him so worked up. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡®You listen here, Prince of Hell or whatever it is you think you-¡¯ ¡®Ah-ah, alright, alright,¡¯ ¡ª Mammon cut her off and stepped in between them. ¡ª ¡®Let¡¯s just take a moment, you two.¡¯ Lucious had moved so close he towered over her. He suddenly pulled back, and turned his back on them both. Mammon cleared his throat before he began. ¡®Lady Mara, I understand this is all very hard for you. We haven¡¯t exactly been very diplomatic about the situation,¡¯ ¡ª He raised a reproaching eyebrow to Lucious as he spoke. ¡ª ¡®However, I believe this will also be a once in a lifetime opportunity for you.¡¯ ¡®And how have you come to believe this?¡¯ Mara said, unimpressed. Maybe Mammon¡¯s sarcasm was rubbing off on her. ¡®Well, I¡¯ve seen your art. I¡¯m not an expert, but frankly what I saw was something humans could only call unearthly.¡¯ This caught her attention, and Mammon noticed. ¡®My lady, what I¡¯m saying is, Hell is unique, in its own way, and so is its populace. What better source of inspiration could you seek? You will see things that no human has ever seen, not a living one anyway. As an artist, I cannot imagine that you would want to pass that up so easily.¡¯ Damn, he was right. Even before he finished speaking, she knew he was right. Her current circumstances were something most artists of her generation couldn¡¯t even dream of; some would give their souls for just a glimpse. She would be a fool to dismiss the opportunity. ¡®It¡¯s funny how you call me lady only when it suits you.¡¯ She said, and Mammon chuckled. She looked at Lucious, who still had his back turned to them. ¡®I never said I wouldn¡¯t go. It¡¯s just, those clothes¡­ I¡¯m not really the type to wear fancy dresses.¡¯ ¡®Excellent.¡¯ ¡ª Mammon nodded once. ¡ª ¡®We can certainly review. What would you be more comfortable with?¡¯ ¡®Well¡­ I was thinking perhaps a pair of black trousers and-¡¯ ¡®Absolutely not.¡¯ ¡ª Mammon said flatly, raising his hand to her as if her words made his head spin. ¡ª ¡®This is a high society event, not some back garden barbecue at your neighbours. The formal dress code must be maintained. Let¡¯s try again.¡¯ ¡®Wait, this is why I¡¯m saying that some fancy black trousers and a nice silky-¡¯ ¡®Mm-hmm, that¡¯s a hard pass. Again, the formal dress code is mandatory, lady Mara.¡¯ Mara sighed in frustration. ¡®What is the formal dress code?¡¯ ¡®Why formal wear, of course. Ladies of Court must have their gown.¡¯ If only she could squeeze his neck with her eyes. ¡®Right, because that¡¯s not sexist at all.¡¯ She said. ¡®It isn¡¯t. It¡¯s just a matter of principle and tradition.¡¯ He said it as a matter of fact, and then waited. She could only stare at him as a rare specimen of sorts. ¡®Your silence tells me you do not have any other suitable suggestions. Worry not. We¡¯ll find you a suitable gown in no time.¡¯ His tone was so final, it made Mara slump and roll her eyes, defeated. ¡®Look on the bright side: at least there will be no one you know there.¡¯ He grinned. It was to be his most annoying smile so far. Lucious turned to face them. He was his detached self again. It seemed beneath him to be involved in discussions of attires. ¡®You will meet the rest of the Royal family at this dinner. Mammon will fill you in on the details and Pox will come along, but we will be your main escorts.¡¯ Now that she had caved to their terms, there was nothing more to say. ¡®Mara, if you are to be safe while you are here, you must do what we say at all times. You must understand this.¡¯ He almost sounded concerned. Perhaps he even looked pressured, she couldn¡¯t tell. Nothing betrayed his true intentions. She nodded. One of Lucious¡¯ large wings sprung out and made her flinch. Some feathers floated in the air until they rested on the floor. Lucious grabbed one of them. ¡®Whatever you wear, make sure it conceals this. You must have it on you at all times during the dinner.¡¯ Up close, the jet-black feather was longer than she had first realised. ¡®You will also be given a face covering and you cannot not, under any circumstances, remove it during the banquet. Do you understand?¡¯ ¡ª His exposed eye bore down on her. She nodded and reached for the feather, but he pulled his hand back. ¡ª ¡®I must hear you say it.¡¯ ¡®I¡­ I understand.¡¯ His gaze lingered a while longer before handing the feather to her. ¡®Mask it well.¡¯ With that, he turned on his heal and left, and Mammon followed. Mara squeezed the feather. It was clear (yet unnerving) that he worried for her safety. It gave her chills, trying to think of why that could be. She held Shiro close to her face, seeking some of his comfort she so missed, and he returned the affection with some licks. Miina said before that they coveted human souls in this place. If he was so worried about her safety, why bring her here, to Hell, and claim to want to protect her? There had to be another purpose, one she couldn¡¯t yet grasp. In the end, it could only come to a simple explanation: he was a demon, a kidnapper, a predator; and she a soul, a casualty, a prey. Why she needed a constant reminder of that, was beyond her. *Kiec ¨C A speciality snack from the Wolf clan in Hell. As Mammon says, it has various properties which can be used to just feed someone, but also subject the recipient to some interesting changes. Chapter 8 - The Devils Banquet Her thoughts didn¡¯t plague her for too long as the grey servants marched in. Right behind them was Mammon, already ordering them to lay some gowns and prepare her for her fittings. It was a relief to see Miina among them, but her movements were so doll-like, Mara feared and wondered whether the grey had finally taken her this time. When he nodded approvingly on choice of attire (perhaps by the fifth try), Mammon stood and bid his short goodbyes. He then collected little Shiro from Mara¡¯s bed, who was tossing around and mouthing pieces of clothing. ''Wait, where are you taking him?'' Mara asked, alarmed. Mammon cocked his head, and held up a piece of fabric that had been laying on the bed. ''This, used to be part of that fine attire. The holes you see here are not part of its design. We''ve only just picked a dress, I''ll be a purified demon before I let Shiro loose anywhere near it. He''s only lost his size, not his bite.'' As though in agreement, an overexcited Shiro barked twice. Such quiet and sweet sounds. Mara was reluctant to part from her pup, but yet again, Mammon didn¡¯t give her a chance to refute. The servants bathed her, dried her and then coiffed her wild hair. With her new updo, and every strand in place, she could hardly recognise herself. Her neck seemed longer, leaner somehow, and her shoulders normally hunched and slouchy under her sweaters, were now pulled back and straight, enhancing her posture. It was a mystery how her exposed skin glowed; it was as if she blossomed. The servants waited as Miina held up the gown she was to wear. Her flustered fidgeting showed her excitement, which only contrasted with Mara¡¯s discomfort. Still, it was a relief to see her new friend still carried some warm blooded emotions. As she moved to put on the dress, so did the robotic servants to help. When they were done, immediately something felt out of place. It was definitely not something she would ever wear, not by choice. It was long, the dress; dark green, and covered with wide leaves made of black lace. The top was only held by a thin laced string that went over her collarbone and connected behind her neck; otherwise, it was backless, down to her lower back. It moulded itself to her slender shape, accentuating the curves and even the cleavage she had always dismissed as flat. A sudden chill made her skin crawl. It wasn¡¯t a change in temperature in the windowless room. It was the sight of her reflection in the mirror. The body, the person she saw felt like someone else. She looked around, and though the grey servants kept their blank stares, Miina¡¯s eyes twinkled with emotion. ¡®Miina¡­¡¯ ¡®I-I¡¯ve just¡­ You look so... I¡¯ve never seen anyone look so beautiful.¡¯ ¡®What are you saying? It¡¯s just a dress.¡¯ Mara said with a nervous edge. ¡®No, it¡¯s true... your soul, it is radiating now, so much.¡¯ Beautiful. Radiating. Words she had never imagined she¡¯d be associated with. Mara turned again to the mirror, as though she¡¯d be able to see her soul, but there was only this strange version of herself staring back. Despite her dread, the compulsion to hide behind her hair didn¡¯t come. The urge to shrink in herself didn¡¯t consume her either. She didn''t even feel like chewing her nails or pick on her cuticles. Instead, a new puzzling feeling was growing: it just felt less wrong to allow herself to be seen. Mammon¡¯s choice had been daring and annoying, but she had to admit: the sexist butler had good taste. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Lucious and Mammon walked in. Both men were in their formal attires. Mammon wore a dark grey suit, three piece, with a tie, while Lucious wore a formal version of his royal uniform, black and red. His wings were out in full bloom and his hair was combed back, making his horns more prominent. He also wore a new mask; black, with golden markings which covered his eyes and rested on the bridge of his nose. Whatever they¡¯d been discussing died when they saw her. Mammon¡¯s prideful smile made her more uncomfortable; or more paranoid, she couldn''t decide. Lucious, she couldn¡¯t read at all. He remained silent and stared. She couldn¡¯t see them, but she felt his eyes on her. Never had that mask bothered her so! And why did she feel the need to see his reaction in the first place? Was she actually craving his approval or acknowledgement? It was ridiculous! Lucious raised his hand, and either coughed or cleared his throat, she couldn¡¯t tell, but he turned away, his cold confidence seemingly shaken. ¡®Well done, ladies. Thank you, you are free to go.¡¯ Mammon said, releasing the servants from their statue-like state. Miina stole a brief reassuring glance at Mara before closing the door behind her. ¡®Humans have always been unpredictable creatures. Look at the difference a piece of fabric can make. It¡¯s like you were born anew; only to higher and better standards.¡¯ ¡ª Mammon smiled so genuinely that it confused her. He really was oblivious to his condescending behaviour, wasn¡¯t he?! ¡ª ¡®Lady Mara, are you ready?¡¯ ¡®One moment, Mammon.¡¯ It was Lucious now. She was two steps above him when he approached. Closer now, she could see a thin veil of green floating around him. ¡®The feather. Are you wearing it?¡¯ Her hand reached her chest, and she nodded timidly. As he spoke in her mind, he sounded different; not as cold as he had always been. This made her nervous. Nothing had changed since they last saw each other just a few hours before. Why was he now so calm about it? Bowing, Lucious extended his left hand to her. ¡®Wh-what are you doing?¡¯ He raised his head to her, but with the mask he wore, it did little to soothe her. ¡®I¡¯m escorting you.¡¯ ¡®Do we need to hold hands for that?!¡¯ Lucious cocked his head. ¡®It¡¯s customary. Does it bother you?¡¯ ¡®No, I¡­ I don¡¯t know how things work around here. I¡¯ve also never been to a fancy banquet before.¡¯ Her eyes drifted everywhere away from him. ¡®Oh, but even if you had my dear, there¡¯s simply no comparison.¡¯ Mammon jested, and she frowned in response. ¡®Just follow my lead.¡¯ ¡ª Lucious said as his hand waited for hers. ¡ª ¡®You look¡­ the dress¡­ It was a good choice. It suits the occasion well.¡¯ Mara¡¯s neck and cheeks grew hot and the pit of her stomach quivered. He sounded like a completely different person. What was he playing at? It was Mammon who had had enough. ¡®For Satan''ssake, would you just take the gentleman¡¯s hand? I cannot blame you, as clearly you don¡¯t know any better, but this is what chivalry looks like.¡¯ He finished, rolling his eyes. Mara¡¯s frown deepened. Fine; It was only to keep up appearances anyway, and this was a custom here. It meant nothing. She reached for his gloved hand and let him lead the way. His hold was gentle yet decidedly present. When she moved down the steps, she looked up at him and was reminded of their height difference once more. The last time they had been this close was when he embraced her in her flat. Her heart quickened at the memory. Now wasn¡¯t the time to be thinking of useless things! They approached Mammon, who placed a veil over her head. ¡®Just a little something to keep you away from prying eyes. You will see everything, but no one will see you. Well, they won¡¯t be able to see the colour of your soul more like. Do try to keep it on, my lady, it would be very cumbersome were it to come off recklessly.¡¯ Mammon smiled. They walked together past the double doors and into the hallway. Pox had been waiting for them, holding his polished axe. Even he was dressed up in a shinier silver armour. It was only her second time stepping out and seeing the rough edged walls of what looked like a very large an underground passage. She gawked at the paintings and sculptures she had missed that first time around. Mammon reached over to Lucious ear and whispered, ¡®It suits the occasion well?! I mean, of all the things, honestly.¡¯, he said, shaking his head. Lucious didn¡¯t reply. Something in his movement caught Mara¡¯s attention. When she looked up, he stiffly kept his gaze ahead. She noticed the pointy tip of his ear flushing a curious red. Chapter 8.1 - The Devils Banquet When they arrived at the banquet hall, all eyes turned to them, inconspicuous with their whispers. It was clear they wanted a glimpse of the person whose hand Lucious held. Mara was thankful she couldn¡¯t hear a thing, and did her best to avoid reading their lips; it was overwhelming enough taking in the splendour of her new surroundings. Much like everywhere they had walked past, the walls in this chamber were windowless, and built with rough-edged stones, making her feel they were still underground. Fire bubbles and large candles floated high above, brightening the whole room. The wall at the far end, behind the dais, featured a gigantic sculpture of six in-curved horns, like a crown of sorts. She might be in Hell, but if she were to imagine a large festivity in a palace, it would still pale compared to this. This was too mesmerising. She understood now Miina¡¯s fascination with it. Everything looked so impeccable, so distinguished that she feared her very touch could taint it. Then there were the guests, the honourable court of Hell as Mammon referred to them. Those that did not wear masks almost appeared human. Just almost. A second glance showed those luminous red eyes, black irises, horns, and claws that betrayed their true nature. Some other guests did wear masks, but they were as far from looking human as one could imagine. There were bears over seven feet tall, standing on two legs, wearing tuxedos and smoking cigars like they were in a gentleman¡¯s secret club. There were impossibly tall and scrawny women with human bodies, but with cat heads, surprisingly looking more expressive than she¡¯d ever imagine a cat could be. And other creatures that looked like centaurs with long majestic antlers. These, she found were the most impressive. Regardless of their inhuman appearance, everyone was extravagantly outfitted, giving off such a confident air of sophistication, it caught her off guard. She hated to admit it, but she was grateful Mammon had been so obnoxious and fussy in preparing her for this. She would''ve most likely fainted from embarrassment otherwise. The blatant glances and murmurs continued as they walked. By this point, her hands trembled. Then a gentle squeeze followed. Lucious, the hand he still held whilst leading her. He kept his eyes up front as they carried on, but his hold of her remained sure, as if to remind her she was not alone. She took a deep breath, and let her eyes wander again. How would she find Louis in this? Maybe all this attention would catch his eyes, but would they even recognise each other? It¡¯s been over twelve years. She was also wearing this veil, he wouldn''t be able to see her. She would have to be the one to find him. They stopped by the closest table near the dais, and Lucious pulled up a chair for her. She sat down awkwardly, unaccustomed to these rules of etiquette, while Mammon and Lucious talked amongst themselves, nodded and greeted fellow nobles as they took in the room. ¡®I will move up there, but Mammon will stay with you. Remember what we discussed.¡¯ Lucious said in her mind, looking as if he wasn''t even addressing her. Mara nodded. With a flap of his wings, he walked away towards the large dinner table. Mammon was already taking his seat next to her, when two other guests, a couple it seemed, joined their table. They had donkey faces, the two of them. When they greeted, they looked so grotesque that Mara wasn¡¯t sure if they were smiling, crying, or just braying. Her stomach quivered with a mix of nerves and excitement, threatening to overwhelm her. She looked down at her hands, trying to repress a hysteric laugh; this whole scenario was too insane to manage! ¡®Deep breaths, my dear lady.¡¯ ¡ª Mammon said in her mind while he looked elsewhere. ¡ª ¡®You¡¯re doing quite well for your first Hell banquet. Let¡¯s not make it your last, Mm?¡¯ Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. It was with tremendous effort that she regained control. After taking two deep breaths, she asked: ¡®Why did he go up there? I thought we needed to stay together.¡¯ ¡®There are ways to do that without being glued to one another. I''m here, and you''re wearing his feather. So in many ways, my lady, we are already all together. He is a prince, for appearances, his place is beside the rest of the royal family.¡¯ He nodded towards the dais. She followed his gaze to see the rest of the royal family arrive. Immediately, everyone in the room, bowed. Mammon had to nudge her from her perplexity so she could follow suit. When they sat again, Mara observed the family. They seemed to engage little with each other. Like Miina had said, all of them wore masks, similar to Lucious, except for Satan. She couldn''t explain in more detail, but it seemed like the basic royal decorum just didn''t apply to him. Lucious was sitting straight, sipping on his wine, holding his usual cool and distant demeanour. To his right was the one who could only be his brother, Leviathan. Even without Miina''s description, he stood out, making it impossible to mistake. He defiantly wore his mask atop the left side of his head, while he slouched on his chair, and pricked the table with the end of a serrated knife. With an occasional sip of his drink, he licked the border of his glass and winked at some of the guests. The commotion it caused told Mara of his many female admirers. His stare was sharp, provocative. Mara found it difficult to bear the intensity. Admittedly, he was as handsome as he was unnerving. Below his horns, his dark hair had strands that were the colour of fire. He had piercings along his pointy ears, and a large tattoo on the side of his neck that disappeared further inside his unbuttoned shirt. If he were human, she would say he was a delinquent. Either way, though they had a similar build, it was clear he was the complete opposite of Lucious. His eyes suddenly darted in her direction, and she stiffened. It was as if her thoughts had called out to him, but he couldn¡¯t see her underneath that veil¡­ could he? His scrutiny didn''t last. Instead, he spared his brother a sour look and then refocused on his audience. Mara was grateful again for the veil, maybe for the tenth time that evening. The Devil and his queen were at the head of the table, engrossed in each other. She was on his lap with arms around his neck, smiling, blushing at his whispers. They looked like a pair of new young lovers, sitting on a park-bench. Were it not for her pitch-black eyes, the queen could almost pass for a human. An especially voluptuous one at that. Her well-proportioned curves, combined with her alluring gown left very little to the imagination. The Devil now, was something else entirely. Stocky, strong, and hard featured. Even seated, she could see his unnatural build. His skin was red, and he bared his muscled torso unencumbered and with pride. His trousers were white and cropped enough that she could see his hind legs with hooves. As magnificent and malefic as he looked, it was his six horns that said it all. It was the way they framed atop his head. They completed him, giving him his natural crown. The enormous sculpture on the back wall made sense now: it was a tribute to the king of Hell. Even the endearing displays of affection with his wife didn''t reduce his oppressive presence. He really was the ultimate authority here; there was just no scenario Mara could imagine Satan bowing to anyone else. Seeing the couple together, reminded her of how her parents used to be when she was a child. Her father, the gentle love-struck pursuer, and her mother, the strict, but secretly soft loving wife. It was love as she had come to know it. Even today, in their older age, their love was still the strongest she¡¯d ever known. To find such a thing here, in Hell, amid these demons... Her chest tightened. Indeed, love was borderless. Then the Devil¡¯s hand brushed up and squeeze his wife¡¯s thigh, while he licked her ear, as if she were made of some melting ice-cream. The queen too, pulled him closer, and her hand drifted down her husband¡¯s chest. Mara looked away, feeling a heat coming up from her neck. No one else seemed to pay attention, including their sons sharing the same table! When she searched Mammon¡¯s face, he was also just as indifferent, sniffing and appraising his wine, and the donkey couple was still conversing with each other, maybe smiling, or crying, she still wasn¡¯t sure¡­ This was just another dinner at Satan''s house. Then the servants brought out the food. Chapter 8.2 - The Devils Banquet The main was a sizable beef wellington with roasted potatoes and steamed vegetables; but Mara couldn''t get enough of their entr¨¦es still decorating their table. The bite-sized quiches, the bruschettas, the crispy little tacos filled with duck strips, the addictive mini-sized grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches, the lightly grilled oysters... it was troublesome to eat such delicious food and remain so composed. Mostly, it was the veil getting in the way, but part of her was also thankful it helped cover up some mouthful mishaps; she would die first before letting Mammon pick up on her gluttony! She¡¯d never live it down. Some of the other guest demons had different things to eat, she noted; thick and gooey things she preferred not to enquire about. The atmosphere settled as people turned to their small chatters, drinks and nibbles. Some grey servants walked around clearing tables, while others topped up drinks, and served whatever other aperitifs the guests wanted. She looked around, but Miina was nowhere to be seen. Neither was anyone that looked remotely similar to Louis, not as she remembered him anyway. Then someone tapped her shoulder. It was Lady donkey, as she now thought of her. With a ghastly smile, the demon Lady nudged her to the new tray a grey servant was holding for them. It was time for dessert! Her attention span zeroed in to the choices: Cherry apple tart or chocolate fondant cake? No one should have to make this dreadful choice! She picked both. Then smiled eagerly at Lady donkey, but this one was already throwing down spoon-fulls of her own chocolate cake. ¡®Such a small person, such a bottomless stomach. I hope it¡¯s just nerves and not endless hunger?¡¯ Mammon said as he sipped his tea. ¡®Brain food; sugar is good for the brain.¡¯ She replied, as dismissively as she could. ¡®Yes, of course. Many dead diabetics here will agree with you. Just by that measure though, you must be the smartest soul in the room right now.¡¯ Mara dismissed the sarcasm and fixed her eyes on her plates. Which one to start with? Cherry tart, it is. ¡®Oh, my god! This is divine! How can you not have dessert at a party?!¡¯ ¡®I care little for sweet things. Also, I would suggest refraining from calling out to god, or using words like divine around here, even if through your mind. If you just take a moment to remember where you are right now, I think you''ll know what I mean.¡¯ It was easy to ignore him. Nothing could ruin this deliciousness. ** ¡®You seem distracted, son.¡¯ His father¡¯s timbered voice cut through his thoughts. ¡®I¡¯m just enjoying dinner, father.¡¯ Lucious replied, indifferently, though annoyed at himself for being caught; his eyes kept finding their way to Mara¡¯s table. At least she seemed more relaxed. ¡®Hm. I hear you have a special guest this evening.¡¯ Lucious squeezed his glass of wine ever so lightly. ¡®I do. Not one of major importance, just a girl.¡¯ Leviathan gave a loud and dismissive cackle. ¡®Which one is she?¡¯ ¡ª Satan continued after giving Leviathan a look that told him he was not invited to this conversation. ¡ª ¡®The one with the veil sitting with your wolf? Why haven¡¯t you introduced her to us?¡¯ ¡®She¡¯s no one important; Just an object of research.¡¯ ¡®Hm. What kind of research?¡¯ Lucious wavered. Satan had never shown an interest in his work before. ¡®Nothing that you would deem interesting, father. It¡¯s for a new medicinal plant I¡¯m trying to grow in Nebula¡¯s Arc. Some human souls have a particular component that may-¡¯ ¡®Sounds fascinating! Let¡¯s have a look at her then.¡¯ Satan said as he downed the last of his wine only to have the glass immediately refilled by a grey servant. Lucious pressed his lips. His hesitation had cost him. There was little anyone could hide from Satan if he really wanted to know after all. He had hoped it wouldn¡¯t come to this, but at least they had prepared for it. He nodded to Mammon; it was time. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. *** Mammon¡¯s hand was extended to her after he stood up. She searched his face as she swallowed the first piece of the delicious chocolate cake, unsure of what he was after. She was startled to find his smile was gone. ¡®What, um¡­ what¡¯s going on?¡¯ ¡®We will introduce you to the royal family, it¡¯s time.¡¯ It wasn¡¯t what he said, but how it devoid of emotion. She hesitated. Looking over at the royals proved to be a mistake. They were all looking in her direction, in wait, but it was Satan¡¯s eyes that met hers. Lucious and Mammon told her that no one could see her under the veil, but there he was, the devil himself, staring at her; right through her soul, she felt it. ¡®Mara, this is what we talked about. Just take my hand and it will be alright.¡¯ His urgent tone was there, but she only saw Satan¡¯s pitch-black eyes fixed on her. Fear weighed her down in her seat. A prickling sensation rose from the back of her neck, and her hands felt moist, even as she crumpled them in her dress. ¡®What¡¯s taking so long? Wolf, bring her over here.¡¯ The Devil said loud enough to silence the hall. Even Lady donkey stopped eating, her eyes wide. ¡®Mara, I promise you it will be alright. Take my hand. Mara¡­¡¯ Mammon again. He called for her repeatedly, but just like when she started losing her hearing as a child, his voice in her mind became small and distant until she no longer heard him. **** At his table, Lucious¡¯ knuckles turned white, so hard was his fist below the table. He couldn¡¯t reach her mind without risking his father hearing him. His mother reached for her husband¡¯s face, with a gentle caress and whispered words seeking his attention, but Satan¡¯s gaze was rapt on Mara. He would not let this go. Lucious clenched his teeth. With a snap of his fingers, Satan fired. Too quick for her, or anyone else to react to. Like a laser beam, it pierced and disappeared in her chest. ¡®Mara!!¡¯ Lucious shouted as he stood knocking his chair and ran to her. Mammon reached for her, saving her from hitting the ground, but she had already buckled. Lucious was with them the very next second. Loud gasps erupted through the hall, confusion reigned in: Satan had attacked his own son¡¯s guest. Lucious heard his mother call out to him as she too shot herself up, but then there was only Satan''s laughter. ¡®Mara! Mara!!¡¯ Lucious shook her. She blinked a few times and took a ragged breath, confusion in her eyes. There was no blood, no wound. Nothing. ¡®It was a shot of the grey.¡¯ Mammon told him. Lucious inspected her again, as if he hadn¡¯t heard him. He needed to make sure. Why isn¡¯t she responding! He then felt Mammon clasp his shoulder. ¡®Lucious, it was a shot of grey. Nothing else. She¡¯s unhurt.¡¯ Mammon¡¯s tone brought him back, reminding him where he was, and that he was being observed. He needed to control himself. He observed Mara one more time. She was more awake now, and though she did not seem in pain, tears were forming in her eyes. Mammon helped her up while Lucious remained hunched over. This was a trap. His father¡¯s way to dig into his plans or to test him for sport. Either way, it was blatant provocation. If he reacted now, it would be against his better judgement, he¡¯d be risking everything he had been working for. He knew this. Yet the image of Mara falling wouldn¡¯t leave him. He let the red take him. His horns and talons grew longer as he stood and started towards the dais. Through gritted teeth, he said: ¡®This is how you treat a guest under my protection?!¡¯ ¡®Last I checked, this was still my house. Besides, your guest was being impertinent, I think I was actually quite lenient. We¡¯ve done much worse for far less rudeness; I shouldn¡¯t have to explain this to you.¡¯ Satan said coolly. ¡®You have no right!¡¯ Lucious almost shouted. ¡®No right, he says!¡¯ Satan burst into a hearty laughter which spread to Leviathan, and then across the hall. When Satan gradually stopped, the chamber went silent again. His tone grew colder as he said, ¡®What would you know about rights? What have you ever done to earn yours, hm? Whatever rights you think you have, you must be really confident in them, to pull the red on me. This is indeed a momentous evening, or maybe, a challenging evening! Is that what this is, boy? A challenge?¡¯ Reluctantly, Lucious called off his red and pulled back his claws. Instead of infuriating him further, the laughter that had spread around the room had helped him back to reason. He shouldn¡¯t fall further into his father¡¯s affronts. It was all the devil wanted. Maybe realising his provocation had fizzled out, his father returned his dark gaze to Mara. ¡®More importantly, I sent a command, did I not? Why is she not obeying?¡¯ Lucious clenched his fists. Everything could collapse here before it even began. ¡®Tell me, boy. What exactly is she?¡¯ ***** Mara stiffened with the Devil¡¯s terrifying gaze on her again. No, no, no. This was not the time to fall apart. As far as she could tell, she was still alive. Now would be the time to remember a prayer (any prayer!) her mother had tried so hard to teach her. She shut her eyes, but even then, it was as though Satan''s dark eyes could touch her. A hand squeezed her forearm and pulled her close. That''s right, Mammon was there. When she opened her eyes to look at him, his eyes weren''t on her. His whole stance was locked on Satan, as though bracing for something. Calm down, Mara. She took a steady breath. They had prepared for this. She just needed to trust herself; trust the veil, the feather (whatever good it did), trust Mammon and- ¡®Don¡¯t you smell tasty.¡¯ A husky voice stormed her mind. Chapter 8.3 - The Devils Banquet A black whip flailed above her. Mammon yanked her towards him, shielding her. She felt his flinch as something hit him from behind, but he wrung her close. Something wet, warm spread on her and ran down her dress. She had no time to look, something was coming for them. Whatever it was, Mammon wasn''t letting her see. He clinched her close, letting his back face the threat. The two were forced on their knees as the table and chairs went flying; the donkey couple fled, while other guests pulled further back. Mammon''s grip was weakening. A small opening, just above his shoulder, finally let her to see Leviathan. His eyes glared red, and his smile was scornful as he moved on them. What she thought had been a whip, was in fact his long tail, thrashing about like it had a life of its own, sinuous, and with fangs gaping. Then something black cut off her view. Feathers. Lucious? He pressed Mammon¡¯s shoulder, and everything became a blur. When her eyes regained some focus, she and Mammon were at the foot of the large table on the dais. She choked and held her head, pleading with it to stop whirling. It took her a moment to understand that he had somehow moved them there, away from their attacker. When she looked at her old table, Lucious was there, facing Leviathan. The tailed demon lunged, a fist ready to hit, but Lucious spun and dodged it with ease. A quick kick also missed its mark; it was if Lucious knew what was coming. He then used his wings to boost Leviathan¡¯s momentum and push him down, at the same time expertly avoiding that nasty tail, already gunning for his neck. Unable to stop himself, Leviathan crashed face down into a nearby table, his mask falling off of the side of his head and breaking to pieces. Lucious was on him immediately. In a flurry of swift and precise movements, he pinned him down and squeezed his neck. With his foot, he trapped the tail against the ground and pressed. No one moved, no one interfered; not even the ox guards. The surrounding guests stared, some genuinely terrified, more dumbfounded, others with a strange excitement Mara found distressing. Why was no one stopping this?! Lucious'' wings doubled in size. They began flapping, creating a wind she felt even where she was, on the dais. She thought he was about to take flight, but it was just the opposite; it seemed to help him keep pressure on his brother. No matter how hard he tried, Leviathan could not break free. The red shimmer surrounded both of them, but Lucious'' seemed thicker. He snarled viciously as he pressed down. Mara was startled to see that instead of hands, he had claws around Leviathan''s neck; he was like a falcon fastening its prey; Leviathan was the snared viper, still holding its dangerous and defiant grin, searching for its opportunity to bite back. The brothers exchanged words she could not hear. ** ¡®Touchy much? If we can¡¯t share toys, what¡¯s the point of being brothers?¡¯ Leviathan said, straining. ¡®She¡¯s not a toy! Keep your hands and your disgusting tail for your own groupies.¡¯ Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡®What''s this now, little brother? She¡¯s a soul, an experiment! Didn''t you say so yourself? That categorically makes her a toy! Why are you getting your pants in a twist-.... Or wait.¡¯ -- he paused here, dramatically widening his smile. -- ¡®Oh, I see what¡¯s going on. You want to have your own private play time, don¡¯t you? All by your lonesome self. Aah-ha-ha! Am I finally rubbing off on you? Why didn''t you say so, I can lend you one of my special rooms; the one in my bedroom is the best one, you know, the one with the wheel.¡¯ Lucious couldn''t believe his ears. What the hell was he talking about now? He squeezed his neck harder, forcing Leviathan¡¯s smile into a frown. ¡®Alright, alright! The best room is in the west tower! I''ll let you use that one. It''s all cleaned and ready!¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re disgusting. Do you really see me doing one of your sordid plays?¡¯ ¡®So it¡¯s a no. Damn it! When did you get so strong?? Ugh, fine!¡¯ Lucious held fast. ¡®I said I¡¯ll leave her alone! Let¡­ go¡­¡¯ His voice was a mere rasp now. ¡®Luci, that¡¯s enough, Let go.¡¯ The queen said, her tone determined. Lucious didn''t want to hear this now. ¡®Boy, you better listen to your mother.¡¯ Though there was no effort in it, Satan¡¯s voice resounded through the hall. It¡¯s finality impossible to oppose. Lucious finally let go. Leviathan rolled over on his back and gasped for air. He then smoothed his bruised neck while he sat up. Spitting blood on the floor, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and scowled at Lucious. ¡®You¡¯re an arsehole. What¡¯s so wrong with me having a little taste? Don¡¯t know why you got her all covered up, her scent is-¡¯ ¡®She¡¯s my guest, you''re not allowed any taste. And you attacked Mammon, you think I''d just let that go?¡¯ ¡®What, he got in the way. It¡¯s his own fault.¡¯ He said with a dry smile. ¡®If you try anything with either one of them again¡­¡¯ ¡®What, go on, what about it?¡¯ ¡ª Leviathan stood came close to his face. ¡ª ¡®What will you do? Don¡¯t let this little trick you pulled here fool you into thinking you¡¯ve got what it takes. You¡¯re still light years away, little brother.¡¯ Why was he so stubborn; border line delusional. It was not worth more trouble, Lucious sighed. As he turned to walk away, he said: ¡®Let¡¯s try this again when your neck is healed. I wouldn¡¯t want to catch you off guard, now would I.¡¯ Leviathan gave a bitter smile and licked the blood off of his lips. ¡®Ooh, I can¡¯t wait.¡¯ *** Mammon was hunched over on the floor, holding the side of his stomach. He looked too pale, too sweaty. ¡®Mara, you¡¯re alright now.¡¯ He said to her, his voice strained. She was about to lift her veil, -- ¡®No, don¡¯t!¡¯ He made to reach her hand. It was then she saw the blood. She pulled back, just enough to look at him properly. It soaked his waist and ran down to his leg, and then to the floor. ¡®You must keep the veil on. They mustn¡¯t see you.¡¯ He looked ready to lose his consciousness at any moment. She didn''t realise when Lucious approached, just in time to grab Mammon before he fell. Up close, she saw that indeed his hands had changed into these long terrifying claws. Without much thought, she pulled back. He watched her for a short moment, but she couldn''t tell what kind of expression he held, he still had his mask; but his claws gradually shifted back to his hands. ¡®We''re going to the elders.¡¯ Lucious said to Mammon. ¡®I failed... I¡¯m sorr-¡¯ Mammon coughed some blood. Mara¡¯ felt herself tremble. She couldn''t hear their exchange, but she read their lips. ¡®Don¡¯t talk.¡¯ ¡®But Mara... we must take her-¡¯ ¡®I said don¡¯t talk. You''re making your injury worse.¡¯ He summoned the black which surrounded them instantly in a whirl. ¡®Mara, come closer.¡¯ His voice was in her mind as he offered his other arm. He didn¡¯t sound like himself, not like she had always heard him; his tone was urgent, nervous even. His cold composure wavered. ''It''s okay, I won''t harm you. No one else will.'' She hesitated still, but then seeing Mammon''s pained expression was more difficult to bear. When she held his arm, something shifted in the air, a kind of pressure, and things started going blurry again. She forced her eyes shut, knowing full well it was a poor attempt to retain some control over her fate. Chapter 9 - I could never make you my servant When she opened her eyes, they were in an unfamiliar room, with small beds, divided by curtains. The stinging smell of antiseptic invaded her senses almost immediately. Lucious shouting for someone. Mammon was on the floor, unconscious and in a puddle of his own blood. Three short elderly men rushed in and with vigorous but precise movements took charge of Mammon. They were balding, and their heads unusually sparkling and contrasting with their fuzzy eyebrows, were too large for their smaller bodies; and they wore deep blue knee lengthened overcoats. Mara didn¡¯t try to read what was being said between the older men and Lucious, instead, her gaze fixed itself on Mammon¡¯s blood and the slowness with which it moistened her dress. Her hands too, were blood-stained. It warm still. So much of it everywhere. Had she ever seen this much before? It was supposed to be hers, all this blood. It was her these strange bald men should be tending to, not Mammon. Yet it was his blood that stained these floors. So demons could bleed like this too¡­ Mammon¡¯s fake smiles came to her, and her chest tightened. Guilt? Sadness? Maybe regret? One overwhelmed the other and her heart couldn¡¯t settle on one. For such a thing to happen, how did it get so twisted so fast? The Devil¡¯s black eyes still haunted her, confirming a realm of horrors she never believed in before. None of it could be denied anymore. This was her fault. Replaying the events in her mind, only snippets flashed: Leviathan¡¯s tail coming for her; Lucious wings flapping; Mammon¡¯s grip on her; the way he flinched in pain whilst he protected her. Rejecting it was useless as the blood slowly drying in her hands painted the hard truth. Mammon could die, for trying to protect her. ¡®Mara.¡¯ She shuddered at Lucious¡¯ intrusion in her mind. ¡®Are you hurt?¡¯ The relief from hearing his voice embarrassed her, but she needed to feel something; something other than this crushing feeling. She numbly shook her head. She noticed the little men were wheeling Mammon away on a stretcher. ¡®It¡¯s over. You¡¯re safe here.¡¯ He reached for her arm. His touch was warm on her skin and made something well up inside her, but her eyes could not pull away from the blood. ¡®Mara¡­¡¯ ¡®This is my fault!¡¯ ¡ª She blurted aloud. She couldn¡¯t bear to hear herself say it using her mind. Tears rolled down her cheeks and disappeared into her blood-soaked dress. ¡ª ¡®If I had taken Mammon¡¯s hand when he asked me, if I hadn¡¯t hesitated to answer your father... All of this happened because I couldn¡¯t do it! Mammon even explained it all and prepared me for this. I don''t know why I couldn''t go through with it! I just¡­ I just couldn¡¯t believe any of this was real.¡¯ After a moment, Lucious spoke. ¡®It¡¯s not an easy feat to face the Devil when he calls. I¡¯m his son, and I still struggle with it for the most part. All of us here do, that is why he is the king. You¡¯re just a human, pulled into the madness; our madness. Many others have passed out or gone mad from just one look from my father.¡¯ Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. His softer tone was strange and surprised her. Then she realised that he seemed unaffected by her voice. ¡®Mammon and I tried to prepare as best we could. We know my father is prone to his impulses, and he¡¯s difficult to predict, but we didn¡¯t imagine he would focus on you so much like that, let alone use the grey. I¡¯m more concerned with what he will do next.¡¯ ¡ª He seemed pensive before he faced her again. ¡ª ¡®Mammon will be alright.¡¯ ¡®H-how can you know?¡¯ She asked with her mind. He did not hesitate. ¡®Mammon is a wolf warrior. They are famous not only for their fighting skills but also for their singular healing abilities. It looks bad now, but I have seen him heal from far worse.¡¯ There was some hope. Mara wiped her tears and stained her veil and face with some of the blood. ¡®I¡¯m really glad to hear it.¡¯ She said, but her smile was weak. ¡®You can remove the veil now.¡¯ She was too conscious as she did. Was he observing her under that mask? It felt as much. She cringed in pain. Something boiled in her chest. There wasn¡¯t a graceful way to do this, so she awkwardly reached inside her cleavage and pulled out the remains of the feather. It was all but charred, its ashes breaking apart. She checked herself, but there were no burn marks. ¡®That too, you can throw it away. It¡¯s served its purpose.¡¯ He said, looking away. Then he stood and offered his hand to help her up. ¡®What exactly did it do, the feather?¡¯ ¡®It was a channelling tool. So long as Mammon was touching you, he would feel any incoming attacks and react to protect you. He is my servant, my blood bonds us. He will protect any part of me that is in imminent danger. Just giving you the feather without him would be meaningless since you and I are not¡­ connected.¡¯ They had prepared that far ahead? He was being too forthcoming. It was odd. This was the most they¡¯d spoken without arguing. She had sensed this change in him even before the attack. It was since they picked her up for the banquet. It was almost as if he had dropping his pretences, one by one. There probably wouldn¡¯t be a better time to ask: ¡®Is that why you brought me here? To make me your servant too?¡¯ ¡®No, that¡¯s not¡­ I¡­¡¯ ¡ª He faltered, ¡ª ¡®I could never make you my servant.¡¯ He faced her until she looked away. She wanted to ask him everything, but the embarrassment that crept up disarmed her. A strange awkwardness settled. She couldn¡¯t see his eyes, but she felt them. He¡¯d just started talking to her without all the aggression, so perhaps if she just paced herself too¡­ ¡®Those men that took Mammon away¡­¡¯ ¡®The elders. You would call them doctors in your world. They are masters of their craft in all the seven kingdoms. He¡¯s in excellent hands.¡¯ ¡®If it¡¯s alright with you, I would like to wait here until they bring him out.¡¯ She wiped her hands on her dress, but the blood was already dry. Lucious nodded. ¡®I¡¯ll send for the attendants to bring you a change of clothes. You can shower and get changed in the next room.¡¯ ¡®Thank you.¡¯ He looked away for a moment. When he faced her again, he said: ¡®What you said before about all of this being your fault¡­¡¯ ¡ª He sounded like he was having a hard time expressing himself, ¡ª ¡®It¡¯s not. None of it is.¡¯ She thought he would continue, but only a long silence followed. He turned his back to her, which struck her as odd. The tip of his pointy ears were exceedingly red again, like that time when they left for the banquet. No matter how she looked at it, he was struggling with something. Perhaps he wasn¡¯t used to it; comforting others. ¡®I didn¡¯t expect my brother to try something.¡¯ ¡ª his tone more composed when he faced her again. ¡ª ¡®He was obviously trying to impress our father. And he is fast, even by our standards, but he wasn¡¯t aiming to wound you fatally. He was after your blood, to taste it, but he and his tail are reckless. This could¡¯ve been a lot worse.¡¯ ¡®Wait, my blood?!¡¯ ¡®He doesn¡¯t need to, but he follows the old customs. There¡¯s a perverse belief that it enhances one¡¯s power. He knows you are important to me, so I guess he wanted to taste you before I could¡­ do anything to¡­¡¯ He hunched over and staggered. ¡®Hey, are you alright?¡¯ He looked down at himself and saw a small rip on the side of his waist. He reached for it and his hand came up covered in blood. She gasped as he ripped his mask off of his face and let it drop; he was deathly pale and sweaty. Still, he tottered over to her, attempting to steady himself. ¡®Don¡¯t worry, this isn¡¯t that seriou¡­¡¯, then he collapsed. Mara knelt down, shouted his name, but when he didn¡¯t react, she shouted for help. It wasn¡¯t long before two more elders came in and rushed him away. Chapter 9.1 - I could never make you my servant Back in the banquet hall, only the royal family remained. While his wife¡¯s eyes shot daggers at Leviathan, Satan was at the head of the table, sipping on his wine. Leviathan was on the other end, spinning a toothpick in his teeth, and with his legs crossed on the table he rocked his chair back and forth. ¡®Why do you always feel the need to go so far?¡¯ ¡ª Odiva said, pacing back and forth. ¡ª ¡®Must you consistently ruin everything I work so hard for?¡¯ ¡®I said I was sorry. All this fuss over one little soul.¡¯ He didn¡¯t sound like he meant it. ¡®I just don¡¯t understand, honestly!¡¯ ¡ª Odiva flipped her hands up in frustration. ¡ª ¡®You¡¯ve injured your brother, do you even realise that?¡¯ ¡®Oh come on, he jumped in on his own accord. How can you blame me for that? And look at this, huh? He injured me too!¡¯ He said, exaggeratedly lowering his collar showing already fading bruises. ¡®Don¡¯t be ridiculous! Your tail did the damage here, and you know it. You could¡¯ve killed him! You own brother. What were you thinking?!¡¯ ¡®I couldn¡¯t help it. She smelled so good.¡¯ ¡®She smelled¡­ Leviathan, will you just grow up!!¡¯ Her raised voice made him stop rocking his chair. This was one of those rare occasions where she let herself get so worked up. ¡®I¡¯ve just about had it with you! Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to put this dinner together? Why must you always act like a mad dog? Why can¡¯t you be more like your-¡¯ She held herself short. She¡¯d gone too far. Slowly, Leviathan lowered his legs off the table. He stood and walked over to his mother casually. He looked at her as she absently rubbed the scar on her neck. A habit that settled itself over the years whenever she got upset; to him, a constant reminder of his own curse. He stopped beside her and leaned closer to her ear. ¡®Oh please, mother, tell me. Why can¡¯t I be more like who? My brothers? Your loving sons? I do nothing but give and give, but you always wave it away, treating my love like it¡¯s a bee sting. I can¡¯t help it, it¡¯s what I am. You gave birth to me though, what would that make you?¡¯ He said in a near whisper, his tone detached. Odiva flung him an incredulous look. ¡®How dare you?!¡¯ ¡®I am sorry to always disappoint¡­¡¯ He said with an exaggerated curtsy and his most condescending smile, moving past her. -- ¡®Father, you¡¯ve been too quiet. What are your thoughts on all of this? Experiment for Nebula¡¯s Arc, my arse! But you know that already, right?¡¯ Satan took another long sip from his glass. Once he set his glass down, he beckoned his wife closer. Odiva¡¯s troubled expression remained even as his embrace welcomed her. He kissed her shoulder gently and tucked her closer. ¡®Don¡¯t you ever speak to your Mother like that again.¡¯ He said with cold indifference and Leviathan¡¯s bitter smile cracked. Odiva caressed her husband¡¯s cheek, but her gaze remained distant, as though trapped in painful memories. Only then did Satan lift his hooded gaze to his son. ¡®You did well tonight.¡¯ This surprised both Odiva and Leviathan. ¡®Honey, what are you-¡¯ ¡®Our son has been training hard, dear. He doesn¡¯t look it, but he is getting stronger. Lucious and his wolf had their guard down, otherwise they wouldn¡¯t have got themselves injured.¡¯ Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Leviathan¡¯s surprise turned in to a proud sneer. ¡®Thank you, father. It¡¯s true, I¡¯ve been training every day. I might be ready to take the Test with a little more coaching.¡¯ Odiva¡¯s eyes widened while Satan went back to his thoughts for a long moment. Leviathan waited anxiously. His father had that gleaming look in his eyes, the one he carried when he contemplated on how he could best destroy his enemies. Satan waved his empty glass and the nearest grey servant rushed to fill it. With increased disdain, he said, ¡®Hmm. Might be ready? A little more coaching? Son, you either are ready or you¡¯re not.¡¯ ¡®No, I am ready!¡¯ ¡®Are you? You realise how lucky you were tonight, yes?¡¯ ¡®What? Lucky?¡¯ ¡®Ah. So you don¡¯t. The whole thing was clumsy. You never planned for any of it, did you? Just charged in. Admirable, in some respects, but also... how shall I say this... incredibly stupid?'' ''How can you say that? Sure, Lucious got me down, but I-'' ''If the wolf hadn¡¯t been protecting that little girl, you would''ve been on the ground much sooner.¡¯ ¡®How?! He''s no one! My tail went straight through him! He¡¯s more likely dead by now!¡¯ ¡®Hmm, is that what you believe? Perhaps your brain is the bit that needs a little more coaching.¡¯ Leviathan clenched his teeth and looked down, but Satan remained unaffected. ¡®Muffin¡­¡¯ Odiva started, but she seemed unsure as to how to continue. Satan caressed her chin and gave her a gentle glance before he spoke. ¡®Why do you think I have wolves serving as our bodyguards? Do you think we put them at the vanguard of every battle for the fun of it? Why do you even think I have them train you, my sons, hmm? You¡¯re with them, day in, day out, and you still don¡¯t understand. Pathetic. You should know this much by now.'' ¡®It¡¯s not about their strength or their ability to heal or whatever else. It''s their loyalty and their refusal to die. It¡¯s unprecedented. When you weren¡¯t even a speck of dust wishing to be born, they were already decimating our people during the Dark wars. They were the last to bend the knee, even when I used the grey on them for several days and nights. It took all the other six kingdoms coming together to defeat them. You heard the glorified stories of our heroic feats, but that¡¯s something the nobles spread; these coward, pretentious twits; most of them weren¡¯t even there to see how they had their way with us. I lost some of the finest warriors I have ever known to the wolves. That makes them the toughest bastards in this realm.¡¯ ¡®Yet you, with a wave of your scrawny little tail, think that you''ve killed one of their best warriors tonight? You claim to be ready to take the Test, but you can¡¯t even grasp your own place.¡¯ -- Satan casually took another sip of his wine, caressed his wife¡¯s chin and then added, -- ¡®Still, a poor attempt is still an attempt. Keep at it. Leave Lucious'' soul to me and just focus on your training.¡¯ Unable to say anything else, Leviathan stifled his frustration and stomped out of the hall. ¡®I think I get what you¡¯re trying to do¡­ but wasn¡¯t that a little harsh? And why encourage him to keep on training? Levi is already a superb warrior, if anything, its his ego that gets in the way.¡¯ Odiva said. ¡®If he¡¯s serious about taking the Test, he needs to be more. There can be no half-arsed measures.¡¯ ¡®You really would let him take the Test?¡¯ ¡®Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡¯ Odiva frowned and looked away. ¡®Beel was the strongest of the three, and look at what happened to him. Our first born is out there, lost to us, and now you¡¯re willing to risk losing another son?¡¯ ¡®I am. I must. I had many children before you came along, if you recall. It is why it must be done.¡¯ He reached for her cheek, but she pulled away and put some distance between them. ¡®The way you talk¡­ its like you''re willing to sacrifice everyone and everything for the Test.¡¯ Satan leaned back in his chair and scratched his furry chest, as he often did. ¡®Not a sacrifice. A necessity. The elders won¡¯t admit it, but weakness is a festering disease. We must cleanse it. How can there be weaklings ruling Hell? You¡¯re a Seer. It was only natural for you to give me powerful sons, and Beelzebub almost made it. These two¡­ well, the potential is there.¡¯ Odiva still could not face him. ¡®Must you always be on opposing sides with your own sons.¡¯ Satan chuckled. ¡®More importantly, tell me more about Lucious¡¯ girlfriend. I know you¡¯ve dreamt something. Why you didn¡¯t tell me is another matter I don¡¯t feel like getting into. Just tell me now.¡¯ Odiva closed her eyes. When she felt ready, she faced him once more. ¡®I did see her in my dreams, but there was nothing.¡¯ ¡®How is that possible? If she¡¯s no one, why would you even dream her?¡¯ ¡®I saw her with Lucious, and I saw her paintings, but that was all. There is no reason to believe she is the threat.¡¯ ¡®Not even after I shot her full of grey and She felt nothing?¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s not unheard of. Other clans have resisted the grey just as much. You just mentioned the wolves a moment ago.¡¯ ¡®She¡¯s hardly a wolf now, is she? And why did he cover up her soul?¡¯ Odiva moved closer to Satan and stared deep into his eyes. ¡®She¡¯s not the one you¡¯re after. I would know it.¡¯ ¡®Mm-Hmm.¡¯ When she probed his mind, Odiva found she could no longer read it. Chapter 9.2 - I could never make you my servant Leviathan¡¯s tail had done more damage than anyone expected. Lucious¡¯ injury turned out to be only a graze, but it was enough to knock him unconscious. Mara couldn¡¯t understand these little men with over-sized heads. No matter how much they spoke (and they were quite eager to do so), the language was alien to her. It was all about Lucious¡¯ condition, she knew that much, but that was as far as her understanding went. Eventually, a kind looking, wrinkled faced elder, waved his thumb up and gave his brightest, toothless smile. Lucious was going to be alright. She sighed with relief, to her own surprise. The grey servants came with the change of clothes like Lucious had mentioned, and she wondered if he had summoned them just before he went down. In a small chamber with a shower and some towels, she washed off the blood and changed into a long informal gown, and a light cardigan. Still too elegant for anything that she would ever wear, but much more comfortable. She opened the door to rejoin Lucious then froze when she saw him. There he was, lying in a small bed, unconscious and... for the first time, not wearing a mask. That''s right, he had taken it off before he fell. She looked around, but they were alone. She forced a deep breath, not only to calm herself, but to repress her raging curiosity. This was her masked kidnapper, her Shinigami, sprawled there, defenceless! She hadn''t realised how much she wanted to see his face until this very moment. There probably wouldn¡¯t be another opportunity like this. She approached as quietly as possible and sat beside his bed. His features were more delicate than expected. His skin was fair and now had a healthier colour; and his lashes were long, as she looked closer. His tousled hair around his horns and forehead made him look as young as she had imagined, perhaps only a few years older than her. Either way, he was too young to be so bitter and serious all the time! She let her eyes take him in, engraving the sight of him in her mind, thinking of his blue eyes when she had seen them before he fell, putting them together with the rest of his face. He looked too serene; defenceless and unburdened, not matching the villainous image he had been showing her. Maybe what he had shown her this evening, that softer tone, that concern, perhaps that was more like him. She tried to imagine different expressions he had been making all this time. Based on what she¡¯d seen at the banquet, she admitted she expected something bizarre about his face, but it was quite the opposite. He was arguably one of the most handsome men she had ever seen so close, and she had seen many, through her Art classes. No, handsome didn¡¯t quite cover it. He was¡­ Aaargh! She shook her head; he wasn¡¯t even human! Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! She looked at him again. There was also something familiar about him, she had to admit, though she couldn''t quite pin the thought. If he only opened his eyes, she might get a better sense of him. No, he was deep in his slumber. He had pulled her from her life, kept her here captive, and still refused to give an explanation. She should despise him. Yet the hate just kept slipping father away, making itself more difficult to hold on to. Just before he passed out, it seemed like he had a genuine concern for her; over her guilt. Despite everything, he had calmed her. Right now, it was as if he was two different people. Which side of him would he show her once he woke? I could never make you my servant. Her heart thumped. With both hands, she clapped her cheeks. Wake up, Mara! He is a demon! Not just any demon, he¡¯s the Devil¡¯s son! The prince of Hell! How could she even let herself feel anything for him? Was she wavering? Was she trying to find goodness in a demon prince?! He had kidnapped her. She had to find out why, and then focus on getting herself home, that was all there was to it. He was being more forthcoming after the attack, so this could be an opportunity to get him to trust her, to talk more to her, maybe even get him to send her home¡­ somehow. The opportunity was there, but she had no idea how to use it to her advantage. Most of her life had been about fending off people, not draw them in. Her social skills were close to zero (or in this case, manipulation skills, but those were at a drastic sub-zero level, she sighed). Her recent dreams of Louis. That had to be the starting point, but the thread was lost again. The banquet resulted in a fruitless effort to find him. If he was a demon in his human form, maybe he would¡¯ve been easier to spot, but she couldn¡¯t recall seeing any other human-looking demons besides the royals. Maybe Lucious was right and there was no Louis. Maybe he was from somewhere else, or her memories were still all jumbled and playing tricks on her. Too many maybes! She would talk to Miina next time. She hid it well, that one, but she was far smarter than she let on. She might come up with another idea to help find Louis. As she wondered about her meagre options, Mara let her eyes rest on Lucious. It took a while, but she finally noticed it. With the long neck collars he always wore, it was covered, but now he was shirtless. She saw it plainly: the small diamond shaped tattoo on the right side of his collarbone. That symbol, on that exact spot¡­ she was certain she had seen it somewhere before. Chapter 10 - Leviathan’s sting DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains implicit sexual scenes. May not be suitable for the ages under 15. Leviathan burst into his chambers, nearly blasting the doors from their hinges. He panted, his body was rigid, as his father¡¯s words boiled in his head. All his focus, all his relentless training, meant nothing if he was going to be mocked like that. Why couldn¡¯t he see?! If Lucious hadn¡¯t got in the way, he would¡¯ve dispatched that wolf with ease, but no, things could never go smoothly with Lucious around! All he did tonight was highlight how pitiable his life was, and promote himself to his father¡¯s favourite arse. Pathetic! ¡®Aaargh!¡¯ He pitched a glassed jar against the wall, smashing it to pieces. It wasn¡¯t enough. ¡®Ma-master? Is that you?¡¯ The small distant voice came from further inside the room. There were other sounds, muffled cries. At first, he was confused, but slowly, realisation came. He had left them here to marinate since before the banquet. He walked into the small closet chamber that adjoined his bedroom, and there they were. His expression remained cold, but his gaze was intent and his tail moved sinuously. He appreciated the view: pinned to the wall against a large metal wheel was a girl whose arms and legs were bound to each rounded corner. She wore red silk undergarments, her eyes blindfolded with a black cloth. Two girls on their knees, with just as little clothing, were beneath her on the floor, their legs bound with red rope, their wrists cuffed in front with a kind of black leather rubbery material, and their mouths were strapped with gags, and rubber rings. They trained their eyes on him with a strange mix of fear and hunger. ¡®Master¡­ please. Is that really you?¡¯ said the blindfolded one on the metal wheel. ¡®Who else would it be?¡¯ ¡®Please, the straps, they are hurting my arms. It¡¯s been too long and I-¡¯ ¡®Shut it.¡¯ He hissed. The girl trembled but did not say more. Leviathan watched them for a long time. He hadn¡¯t planned to leave them here for so long, but he stuck around at the banquet since for once, things had got interesting. No matter. They were looking riper now, ready for the taking. The three human souls he had been cultivating for so long. He had introduced them to a world of pain and pleasure they could no longer live without. They were irrevocably his to do whatever he wanted. His anger still threatened his mood, but his body was being more honest than he cared to admit. This was after all, his favourite play. ¡®Where are you, master? Please, won¡¯t you say anything?¡¯ The girl on the wheel again. The girls on the floor attempted to crawl to him, but their ropes made them stumble. They whimpered for him. One of them got close enough to press and rub herself on his leg. Good. They were becoming more daring, more impatient. Their smell was beautiful. Though thick with lust, it was still nothing like Lucious¡¯ precious soul from earlier. Hers had been untainted, unblemished, that sweet scent. Leviathan gritted his teeth. Even at picking souls, his brother bested him. Even now, with this enticing scene in front of him, his mind remained unsettled and kept going back to the banquet. No. Not now. He¡¯d be damned if he was going to let it ruin his most prized pastime. He moved toward the girl on the wheel while knocking aside the ones on the floor. Before he could touch her, his tail already hovered over her. ¡®M-my body, master¡­ it is yours. Please, hurry...¡¯ ¡®Your body? But I want so much more than that.'' ''Take it! Anything you want, it is yours.'' This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡®Shhh. Didn¡¯t I tell you to be quiet? When did you become so greedy?¡¯ He hissed in low tones. His tail brushed the girl¡¯s skin, inflaming it with red marks. She gasped, and squirmed at its touch. When the tail¡¯s fangs finally pierced her skin, just below the collarbone, she spasmed and moaned. ¡®Its¡­ it¡¯s too deep¡­ I prefer your touch.¡¯ ¡®You keep talking without permission.¡¯ Leviathan licked the droplets of blood that escaped the corner of the tail¡¯s mouth, and ran down to the girl¡¯s belly. She writhed more at the touch of his tongue. Feasting on just her excitement, his eyes turned red. His tail, with a will of its own, settled on the girl¡¯s neck and its fangs continued to drain her. ¡®Stop.¡¯ He commanded, and at once, his tail pulled away from the girl. When he looked at her again, the girl¡¯s head flopped sideways. ¡®Saaa-miii-raaa, this won¡¯t do. We''re just getting started, I need you to keep up. Just a minute ago, weren¡¯t you begging for me? You wanted this, remember?¡¯ He said as his eyes turned white, and her neck wounds healed. He lifted her chin, and pulled her blindfold, searching her face. When she winced, gasped and opened her eyes, Leviathan greeted her with a chilling smile. Her yearning was still there, her eyes melted with desire. With every breath she drew, she still wanted more. She wanted him. ¡®That¡¯s my girl.¡¯ ¡ª He said lowering her blindfold once more. ¡ª ¡®Shall we continue?¡¯ ** He couldn¡¯t remember when it all started, these bedroom affairs. It wasn¡¯t so much that he took pleasure in the torture itself, but it was the craving, the desire they had for him, that filled him with a kind of momentary bliss. He had used and tortured countless souls over the years, until he had depleted them entirely. Some ended up so drained their only use was to become grey slaves, others simply lost themselves to madness. Yet, to wield the power to transform them, to render them incapable of living without him... how could he not keep coming back for more? Twisted? Maybe. It did become an addiction of sorts. It was long since he rid himself of any remorseful feelings. He didn¡¯t care whether what they felt for him was real or not, he needed it. He had forged this gratifying pleasure for himself ever since everyone else pulled away. He had found those who wanted him, it was his touch that brought them to life, that was enough. When he was born, Leviathan was the most cherished of the Devil¡¯s children, rumoured to be the most beautiful child. Hell¡¯s court bewildered at the contradiction that he was: a seed from Satan himself, so unblemished and so undemonic like. By the age of four, little Levi grasped all the attention, and love from his parents and Hell¡¯s court. Beelzebub, his older brother, was mature and talented enough to accompany their father on his conquests, leaving little Levi to be the centre of their mother¡¯s world. Odiva was a loving and constant presence, never letting him out of her sight. One morning, right after his fifth birthday, Levi woke up to see his mother¡¯s expression and everyone else¡¯s change. It was with an alarmed curiosity that they all regarded his new tail. It had just appeared overnight. It was normal, expected even, for a demon child to first develop their horns or some fur around the chest to match their father¡¯s. A natural occurrence when the child reached puberty. This was especially true for Satan¡¯s children who tended to mature faster. However, this long, thin, black whip that grew on him was too premature. It danced back and forth with a mean sting to it; it did not belong. Not even the elders could explain it, although some theorised that it might have come from his mother Odiva, the Seer. The Seers were a powerful clan with obscure powers that few trifled with. Their abilities were seconded perhaps only by their breath-taking beauty. Rumours had it that their chosen partners never lasted long, mysteriously disappearing after impregnating them. Only Satan had been brave enough to venture into matrimony with one of them, and survive after two child-births. The length of his survival had never been made clear: Was it because he was insanely powerful, or was it the Seer''s love that allowed him to live... The Seers also had the gift of foresight, and they had the ears of powerful nobles which could prevent or incite wars, but no one truly grasped the extent of their power. It was said their male offspring couldn''t inherit their powers, but as though in exchange, they grew up to become the most magnificent of warriors. Perhaps this tail was another form to manifest their power on the young prince. Odiva never confirmed or denied as much. In time, everyone gave in, and indeed found the tail suited him, they even jested: At last, the Devil¡¯s child looks like a demon! He was too frail looking, almost like a human! Now for sure he is one of us, a true demon. They would even dismiss the erratic but small stings from the tail, like those caused by a wasp. Until servants started dying. Hell bent on attacking anyone who approached Levi, the tail proved to have an insatiable hunger. He was much too young to understand, or learn to control it. It controlled him. As he grew, so did it, and so did the killings: pets, sitters, school friends, it made no distinctions. Those more cautious began pulling away, but most still carefully brushed aside unimportant losses. He was Satan''s son after all, the youngest prince of seven kingdoms, and the most likely heir to Satan¡¯s throne. At a frightening pace, he was becoming all-powerful, no longer rumoured to be the most beautiful child in Hell, but destined to be the most ruthless ruler. One fateful day his mother came too close, from behind, as she often did to surprise him. Chapter 10.1 - Leviathans Sting Before anyone noticed, his tail had her on the floor, sucking her neck. When he screamed, the wolves came and swiftly subdued the tail, and the elders prevented the poison from spreading to her heart, but Odiva remained in a coma for weeks with an open wound in her neck that refused to heal. Everything changed from then on. What was once admiration, or perhaps a form of love, became something that could only be rejected, something repulsive, even among demons. New rumours started: Even if he is the son of Satan, that tail is much too reckless! It discriminates against no one! It even attacked his own mother! The boy has no pulse to control it, what kind of demon king is he going to be if his tail continues to attack randomly? What kind of demon can''t even control his own pet-demon?! He was old enough to understand fear when he saw it, old enough to see blame, and hate in the glances his father spared him, and pity from his older brother. He was resolute in his numbness to it all. His mother would open her eyes soon, and all would be well again. It had been an accident after all. She would say so herself, as she often did when the tail had attacked others. He only wished that she would visit him in his dreams, like she did when he was having a nightmare. She would tell him all would be alright and that there was no nightmare without an end. But she never came. Instead, she just kept her eyes closed. Months passed, and he still refused to leave her bedside, even as he was under the strict supervision of the elders, and the wolf guards. Satan had ordered it so. The tail could no longer be allowed further damage. When his mother at long last woke, she greeted him with a withdrawn gaze he had never seen on her before. He knew the look on other people, but not her. Was she scared of him? He knew it to be true when she recoiled from his touch. Immersed in despair, that night Leviathan would rid himself of his curse. On his own terms! He wouldn''t wait for the elders'' whatever solution anymore; he was certain his method would work. During dinner, in a rare moment of distraction from his wolf guards, he stole a sharp knife from the dining hall and took it to his room. The next morning, the wolf that usually came to wake him found spattered pools of blood leading to his bed. Besides being covered in blood, his eyes red and sore, his cheeks streaked with tears and blood, Levi was unharmed. The tail too was intact. As it would be, only the knife he had stolen suffered the worst fate, as its blade was chipped, and broken in half. It was days later when Odiva finally called for him. He had hoped for warmth, a glimpse of forgiveness, but right away he sensed it. Her eyes glittered strangely; her body seemed rigid, unable to hold him without trembling. She would not be at ease unless they ensured his tail was restrained with some new contraption the elders concocted. Perhaps she even tried her best to overcome her fears, but it would never be the same between them, he knew. With Satan away, focused on Beelzebub¡¯s training, Leviathan was left on his own to discover this new shackling feeling called loneliness. *** Odiva¡¯s recovery was slow. Her wound, though it finally healed, left a pronounced scar. The elders could not explain such a phenomenon, but it fuelled their scientific curiosity further, probing, testing him endlessly, most times forgetting he had just turned six years old. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. In his dejected state, Leviathan found he did not care what they did, at least the elders were still keen to be around him. He no longer ate, no longer slept regular hours. Instead, he wracked his brain on how to get rid of the tail. He spoke when only spoken to, withdrawing more into himself. Overtime, his rosy complexion vanished giving room to a gaunt and pale figure; a shell of his former self. To avoid the scrutinies from the elders and the wolves, he took to wearing his royal mask all the time. No one else took particular notice. Lucious was born not long after that. He would hear people¡¯s distant whispers: The child prodigy is born! Such an intellect even as just a babe! What a joy to be around! Hard to believe he is Leviathan¡¯s brother. He will surely be the next in line to the throne. Leviathan too, wasn''t immune to his baby brother''s spell. He fell in love after just one look. Naturally, this had only been allowed at a safe distance and with his tail fully restrained. It was then that he made a silent promise to himself. He would look out for Lucious, protect him, make sure he continued to enjoy his good fortune, because, eventually, he would grow a tail too, and then he too would be hated by everyone. This frail babe would never be able to handle that. His mother even favoured him a warm smile just as he sealed his promise. So she still listened in on his thoughts. She hadn¡¯t smiled at him like that since before the accident. He was on the right path. This was to be his new purpose, and it filled him with excitement: he would protect his brother from the worse that was to come. Perhaps even regain some of his mother''s affection by doing so. Over the years however, no tail came. Instead, Lucious thrived in what should have been Leviathan¡¯s life, had it not been his cursed tail. Whilst he spent his days with the elders being researched, Lucious learnt sword fighting with Beelzebub and the ways of the Colours from the elders. While he shared his meals with his wolf guards in the kitchens, Lucious took up his seat in the Hall next to their father. Their own mother looked at, and held Lucious with the same warmth she had for him once. While he was living unseen, unwanted, in the shadows, Lucious, or rather, Lucifer, was rising brightly to his given name, and to become the most loved prince of Hell. Despite it all, it was still hard to hate him. Blissfully unaware of the good fortune he had stolen, Lucious was a happy and curious child who loved both his brothers more than anything. He couldn¡¯t reason it, but Leviathan knew that he looked up to him, admired him even. At every chance, Lucious would chase him around with a flurry of questions: ¡®Levi, why are you always with the elders?¡¯ ¡®Levi, when are you joining us for dinner?¡¯ ¡®Levi, why don¡¯t you come train with me and Beel?¡¯ ¡®Why are you so skinny, Levi?¡¯ or ¡®Leviiii, make your tail talk, pleeaassse?¡¯ The boy had no boundaries with him. No one besides the elders dared to mention his tail, but there he was, this little brat, trying to touch it, play with it as if it was a stuffed toy. Even the tail seemed to succumb to his charms, lacking the will to attack him. Try as he might, Levi¡¯s taciturn front always crumbled at Lucious¡¯ feet. So what changed? Perhaps his father¡¯s expectations, or maybe even his own ambition that eventually took over. Overcoming the final Test would be his opportunity to still become something. Out of the three brothers, he was the most lethal, arguably the most powerful. He wanted to be seen, to be wanted! There was no choice. So he pulled away from the silly brotherly distractions, and threw himself into training and research to regain control of his life. His chance came when they lost Beelzebub. In a way, that day they lost Lucious too, as he allowed his father to see what he loathed the most: weakness. The pain of losing Beelzebub hit him hard. Seeing his mother¡¯s tears as she cried Beelzebub¡¯s name made his heart ache, but by then, he was a master at disguising his true feelings, and the devil watched what came next. If Satan hated weakness, he would show him nothing but strength. Perhaps he could save Beelzebub when he became king. For the years that followed, Leviathan broke free from the shadows and forged his own light. He gave the weakened Lucious no break, provoking him at every turn, springing challenges and attacks at every chance. He couldn''t risk Lucious rising to greatness again. They were rivals now, not brothers. He trained not only to control his tail but also to improve his weakened body. He took to the old ways and drank the essence of souls and grew stronger. The transformation took everyone by surprise, but there was no longer hate or fear in their eyes. He exuded confidence, controlled unpredictability, and an unapologetic passion for his demonic nature. For that, the people loved him once more, drawn to his devious smile, like bees to a thorny flower¡¯s sweet nectar. Chapter 10.2 - Leviathans Sting (End of Part 1) Leviathan¡¯s Chambers Enough of distant random memories. This was a time to focus. A shirtless eager Leviathan observed Samira¡¯s body. The blood underneath her skin craved to break through, traces left by his tail. Delirious, the girl begged for more of his touch. Where her blood did pour out, he was quick to heal and then seal it with his tongue, as though she was a kind of melting ice-cream. Everywhere he touched, everywhere the tail impressed, she squirmed with indescribable ecstasy. Leviathan hungered for more. There was little else that gave him such immense pleasure. On the floor, the other two girls pressed themselves against his legs, imploring for his attention. He reached for the wall where his selection of toys hung. As his hand hovered over them, he asked: ¡®How are we feeling tonight, Misty? Diana? Which one shall we go for? The Happy Paddle or the Stingy Rod?¡¯ The girls moaned, begged, and he chuckled. It wasn¡¯t like he cared to know. ¡®Happy Paddle it is. Good choice.¡¯ ¡ª He said, reaching for the red leather paddle. He flexed it, appreciating its thickness. ¡ª ¡®It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve used this one, hasn¡¯t it?¡¯ He lashed once, twice, until he heard the crazed muffled scream mixed with pain and pleasure. Tears rolled down Misty¡¯s eyes and her skin burned red, but she held her position, waiting for more. Diana had had enough, moving herself on him, attempting a clumsy embrace with her bound hands, but he shifted away effortlessly. ¡®Hold on now, I¡¯m getting to you.¡¯ He lashed at her thighs until the girl cried and finally recoiled. ¡®Too hard? Oh, my darling, I¡¯m so sorry. I forget you are still quite sensitive.¡¯ He said, removing the girl¡¯s gag, and moved in to kiss her softly. She welcomed him. Tentatively at first, then as though the taste of him triggered a new found addiction, she eagerly looped her arms around his neck, and pulled tightly. It was as though his kiss was the only thing that could soothe her pain. He grinned between her lips. His tail busied itself with circling Samira¡¯s legs. Only small bites were allowed for now, he made sure he kept a tight grip on it. Then it crawled down to Misty on the floor, making the girl tremble while it savoured her new blood. Whilst he savoured Diana¡¯s lips (or she his), he didn¡¯t forget to heal either, constantly summoning the white for their marks. Not out of kindness; they would just last much longer this way. It never ceased to amaze him that even in that, these souls found pleasure. Was there anything better than this? A crashing noise came from the front room. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Who would be so stupid to interrupt right now? Surely no one with love for their own after-life. ¡®Tsk. Who¡¯s there?!¡¯ Silence. He was about to resume his kiss, when another loud thump followed. This time, there was a whimper too. ¡®Damn it!¡¯ He snapped and pushed Diana aside as if she were a messy blanket, and made his way to the front room. A grey servant girl with dark skin, was on the floor. She had stepped on the pieces of glass he had shattered earlier. There hardly any blood as most of the pieces appeared to have been caught on her sandal, but before he could fully explode, his eyes caught hers. That¡¯s not right¡­ A grey servant was a dead thing, with no sense of self. So why was this one looking right at him, and¡­ in pain? Her eyes¡­ they were throbbing with it. Tears? The girl caught herself, trying to move like the slaves. A poor attempt. Her agony was still clear to see. She quickly removed the glass from her foot. ¡®What are you doing here? What are you?¡¯ He asked. She remained quiet, but she understood him, he could tell. Her breathing was all over the place, though she tried hard to contain it, and her quick glances at him, at the door, only showed her nervousness. She was trying to think fast. All oddities that just didn¡¯t match. It was impossible for grey slaves to maintain eye contact with anyone, most didn¡¯t even have use for their eyes anymore, let alone a functioning brain! He probed but couldn¡¯t see her soul. He tried to read her mind, but nothing there too. Just who the hell was she? She moved quickly then, quicker than he thought possible considering her injury. She picked up her tray, and limping, she bolted through the double-doors. He jerked for a split second, ready to give chase, it was tempting enough, but then his legs kept him in place. Right then he couldn¡¯t tell why, but something just didn¡¯t fit. ¡®Master, where are you?¡¯ Samira called from the back room. He didn¡¯t reply. Instead, he stood there, assimilating. It had been a long while since something puzzled him this much. It was the most characteristic thing in Hell since his father became ruler: grey servants were soulless things; they did not know pain, or have awareness of any kind, only the grey commands sustained them. They didn¡¯t have, couldn¡¯t have, tears or hurt; and Leviathan knew what hurt looked like, all too well. Was she a spy? A demon agent, sent from backstabbing nobles? Not likely. Those terrified eyes did not belong to any enemy he¡¯d come across before. He smiled and brushed his hand over his hair, pulling it back. Whatever she was, a slave was far from it, though she was trying hard to pass herself for one. For what purpose? What was she? How was she walking around unnoticed, and for how long? And why was her soul so well hidden? Was she one of those they said could resist the colours? It didn¡¯t matter. Her eyes said it all. One thing at least became clear: He wanted them. That fear, that intensity, that abundance and craving for life... it was too tempting to ignore. He imagined her eyes pleading with, and eventually beg for him, her skin sweating and shivering with craving as he tied her up. What would her eyes look like then, he wondered. The newness of it excited him. When was the last time he felt this stirred up? Let her run for now, she won¡¯t go very far, he chuckled to himself. Befitting his princely duties, of course he¡¯d find her and give her a proper welcome. This was Hell after all, the perfect place for lost souls. And even lost kittens like her needed proper guidance. Making his way back to his girls, he said: ¡®Sorry to have kept you waiting, my darlings! Samira, let¡¯s take the blindfold off. I¡¯m suddenly in the mood for some tears.¡¯ END of Season 1