Many moons ago, upon the eve of the new year, Caelus sat on the windowsill of his room. From the towering palace, he peered out onto the city of Vellum. This land, where the sun never fully reached, was always bathed in a dark glow. It was very different from his home, but he'd long since grown used to it.
Suddenly, three knocks came from his door.
"Come in," the young Caelus said.
The door clicked open, and in walked a tall, beautiful woman. Her long, straight hair of midnight black had a brown undertone, and above it were a pair of pointy fox ears. It is a trait that is unique to the kitsune tribe.
Her bangs covered the entirety of her left eye, leaving only the right one visible. It was sharp and gentle — a shade of plum red — with the warmth and tenderness he came to accept. She wore nothing but a lavish nightgown that revealed far more than Caelus wanted to see.
"C-Commander Xaede?" he gulped.
"Ah~ come now. Why are you always so nervous around me, sweetheart?" she giggled lightly. "And I swear, I keep having to remind you every fortnight. Forego the formalities, and just call me Xaede."
"Ah... Right..."
Xaede was always gentle with Caelus, even upon his first arrival. Despite being a demon, she had shown him nothing but love and care, but he was always apprehensive. After all, she holds the second seat of the Malevolence. Anyone would be afraid to linger in her presence.
She walked over and sat on the windowsill next to Caelus.
"I knew you'd be awake," she said with that ever-sultry voice of hers. "Couldn't sleep?"
"It's not that," he mumbled. "I just... um... Hah. Yeah, I guess you're right. I couldn't sleep. My head's been hurting lately."
"Oh? What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you sick?"
"I don't think so, but there is something... wrong. It feels like something is watching me no matter where I go. Every so often, I'd hear these... whispers. Yet, when I turned around, there was nothing there."
Xaede was silent in response. Her eyes softened upon his dejected state. She could offer no solace, for the wheel of fate — his fate — has already begun to spin.
"That's a shame," she finally said. "Perhaps the dark atmosphere of the demon realm is finally getting to you. I'm surprised you even lasted this long."
"I faced death once when I stood between Lord Arkus and my sister. Everything else... seems to pale in comparison."
"Heh. That's true. Lord Arkus does have that natural aura that inspires fear beyond comprehension, even to us of the Malevolence. However, trust me when I say that behind it all lies a gentle soul."
"Even though he's a demon?"
Xaede turned away from the window to look at him, her plum eyes piercing through his.
"Ah... S-sorry," Caelus mumbled.
"There's nothing to apologize for, sweetheart," she scoffed. "But, I am rather curious about something. You call us demons. I call you humans. Now, tell me — where lies the contrast?"
"What?"
"I'm asking what makes me different from you."
Caelus opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He'd always been taught that demons were the enemies — that they were evil, and humans were mandated to follow the will of the Goddess and eradicate them.
Evil...
Was this woman in front of him truly evil? And even if she was, what right did he have to assume before fully understanding her?
Only recently did he come to that realization, and it was the product of two years built upon the idea that these demons were nothing but monsters. Yet, over time, he'd seen things he could never imagine — things that he refused to believe.
"I'm... I'm sorry, Xaede," he mumbled, slouching his head.
But she wasn't disappointed or anything of the sort, and she proved that by leaning forward, pulling Caelus into her embrace.
"No need to apologize, sweetheart," she lulled with a gentle voice. "Naturally, we must fear the things we do not understand. It's how we survive. However, that doesn't mean we are not allowed to learn. Take us, for example. Demons crave life just as much as humans do. Does that make us evil? Wanting to survive in a world that would prefer us gone? Of course not. See for yourself the true essence of that which you fear the most. Only then can you see the world in a different light. As for you, Caelus..."
She looked down at him, then pressed her soft lips against his forehead. With a subtle smack, she retreated and planted her hand on his head.
"I think you've conquered your fear of us. And honestly... it makes me happy to see that you can finally relax a little. Don't you feel the same?"
"...Yeah," he smiled, feeling a growing warmth in his chest. "I do."
"Hehe~ Good. Now, come here. A young boy like you must have sufficient sleep so he can grow up big and tall."
Xaede began humming a lullaby, and soon after, Caelus fell asleep on her shoulder. When he reopened them, he saw an unfamiliar ceiling. There was a dimly lit chandelier outlined by the wooden frames of a canopy bed. The moment he tried to pull himself up, he fell back down at a sudden surge of pain.
"Don't move, darling," said a low voice to his left.
He turned to see a woman sitting at the edge of the bed, her silver hair draped along her back.
"Prof... Professor Silva..." he mumbled weakly.
"So you recognize me," she scoffed. "That's a relief. And here I was thinking you weren't going to wake up at all."
"How long...? Agh—!"
A crackling pain rushed through his head like a wave. It felt like someone had taken a hammer and was continuously bashing his skull from the inside.
Silva leaned in with a worried hand, but she was careful not to touch him.
"Easy now, darling," she said, her voice low and soft. "It's been three days since you fell unconscious. Perhaps I hit you too hard."
"What? You... hit me?"
"I did, indeed. If I didn't... you would've taken one very important life. Am I wrong?"
He didn't answer, for amid the hazy fog, he remembered everything. The confrontation, the fight, and his own urge to kill. But above all, he recalled... a voice. It told him to break the chains — to cast aside his self-restraint. If Silva hadn't stopped him, he would've given in.
He would've killed Asta.
Sensing his discomfort, Silva let out a sigh. She reached for a glass of water from the nearby nightstand and handed it to him.
"Here. Drink up, darling."
"Ah... Thanks."
"Are you hungry?"
"...A little."
"Heh. I figured. That's why I prepared this."
From the same nightstand, she carefully picked up a plate of grilled chicken cutlets and an assortment of roasted vegetables.
"I wasn't too sure when you were going to wake up, so I made a little extra just in case," she smiled. "I figured there was a chance the aroma would wake you up. Turns out, I was partially right. It only took three days."
"For me...?"
"That's right. Ready your palettes for absolute perfection, darling. I cooked this myself, so be grateful. You are one of only a handful who've ever gotten this treatment from me."
"I-is that so? I... don't know what to say."
"A simple thank you would be a nice start."
"Ah... Then, thank you, Professor."
The moment he reached for the plate, however, Silva pulled it back.
"Ah ah ah~" she mused. "You're still bedridden. You should minimize your movements to ensure efficient recovery."
"Huh? But how am I supposed to—"
He was met with a forkful right in front of his face, and Silva was the one holding it up with an amused smile.
"Open wide, darling."
"W-wha... With all due respect, Professor, I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself."
"Nonsense. Now, hurry it up. My arms are growing tired."
Caelus hesitated, but with no escape in sight, he leaned forward. Eyes shut, mouth open — and in went the fork. His mind spun, not only because the food was actually delicious, but because he couldn't escape the absurd fact that Professor Silva had just spoon-fed him. Well, fork-fed him, but the humiliation was all the same.
It dredged up a memory he thought was long buried. Someone else had done this for him once, in a place far darker than this.
Back then, he had refused to eat. Back then, he had been broken. But today, he felt oddly at ease.
"You've got this look on your face, darling," Silva scoffed. "You're allowed to say you hate my cooking. I won't faint."
"What? No, it's not that," Caelus stammered. "It's just… you remind me of someone I miss."
Silva paused, the teasing edge fading as she set the plate down.
"And this someone," she said lightly, though her gaze was anything but, "happens to be another demon, doesn't it?"
"...Yes. You're right."
She crossed one leg over the other and studied him, her chin resting on her hand. For once, her voice wasn't mocking.
"Something tells me the last five years have been rather interesting for you, darling. That feline commander broke into my room every single night after hearing you'd been bedridden."
"Alune?"
"Indeed. Still, it is difficult for me to believe. The Malevolence, caring for a human child? Now that is truly a tale to behold. Unlikely, but not entirely impossible. After all, demons can feel just as much as humans can, hmm?"
"I..."
"Alas, I won't pry. We all carry our own shadows. But... if you'd indulge me, there's one question I can't help but ask."
"What is it?"
"Arkus... de Vellum. How is he?"
His eyes widened. Hers did not, or so he thought. They looked the same as always, calm and hazy, but beneath that stillness, he caught it. A flicker of longing and regret. He couldn't bring himself to question her. Something told him she wouldn't provide a tangible answer anyway.
And so, he spoke.
"He... He's doing well."
Much to his surprise, the everlasting smile on Silva's face grew just slightly wider.
"That's good," she mumbled before she stood and walked off. "Rest up now, darling. You're going to need it for the morning."
"The morning?" he repeated, confused. "What's happening in the morning?"
Silva stopped at the doorway, planting a hand on the frame as she looked back.
"A meeting with the Headmistress."