"Thank you for the meal."
"Meal."
Our voices—mine, the human's, and the dwarf's—echo in unison, a routine unchanged. Four voices blend in this daily ritual, now second nature after two weeks. I, a demon, blend into this human mimicry. Yet, a creeping unease stirs within me, a sensation absent for some time. It's the same disquiet I felt for the first six months under Himmel's command. A vague sense of alienation, a visceral discomfort. The reason is clear.
Silently, relentlessly, the demon child, Linie, gnaws at an apple like a small animal. A whim picked up on the road, I once thought she might serve some purpose. I was wrong. Her presence has unraveled my world. The incomprehensible notion of "family," of "mother," thrust upon me by Himmel. Linie, mimicking it without understanding, demands it of me. At first, I didn't care—it was beyond my grasp, and I accepted that. I tried imitating it as instructed, but it meant nothing.
(What am I supposed to do?)
I shove apple pie into my mouth, a substitute for the human flesh I haven't tasted in over a year. I hadn't even noticed how long it's been. I catch my breath, startled by my own oblivion. When did this start? When did I become like this? I'm a demon, yet I don't eat humans. I'm tamed, enslaved, mimicking their ways. It's wrong. I mimicked humans to prey on them, but now, unable to, why do I continue?
(Linie hasn't changed… So why have I?)
My gaze falls to my chest, where nothing remains. A habit, perhaps, born of its once-constant presence. The unease stems from its absence, not even a week old. Soon, I'll stop caring, like Linie. That's what demons do. She, the one who caused its loss, mimics a human child without a care. It's only natural—losing something means nothing.
"…Aura?"
Yet, why does it bother me? It's almost as if—
"Aura? Is something wrong?"
"…! Don't startle me like that!"
"Sorry. I called you a few times, but you didn't respond. Are you okay?"
"…It's nothing."
Himmel peers at me, suspicion in his eyes. Linie and Eisen do the same. Lunch is over, it seems, and I was too lost in thought to notice. How unlike me. I stand to clear the table, hiding my distraction. This is my role now—serving the hero, deceiving him. Yet, an unsettling feeling lingers, one I've never felt before. I shake it off and move to wash the dishes.
"Mother."
That incomprehensible cry interrupts me.
"…Annoying. Get off."
I swat her hand away before she can cling to my clothes, my body moving faster than my thoughts. A reflex. Linie stumbles, her face puzzled. I realize I've let her cling to me lately out of laziness. My unusual reaction must confuse her. That's all. She feels nothing—she's a demon. I turn back to the dishes.
"Aura, can we talk?"
Himmel's voice stops me.
"What? I want to finish the dishes."
I speak flatly, annoyed at being dragged outside. Why? What can't he say in there? I already know, and it irritates me further.
"It's about Linie. Why did you do that? You usually let her be."
"Huh? I told you, she was annoying. Is that a problem?"
He's observant, catching every move. My reaction was a mistake—too obvious. I should've known this would happen.
"It is a problem. That was harsh. Don't you think it's unfair to Linie?"
"…Unfair?"
The word, alien to demons, catches me off guard. What is he talking about?
"Are you serious? She's a demon. She doesn't feel that way. Don't you get it?"
Demons don't feel such things. If he used his obedience magic, he'd see Linie feels nothing. He's not just treating demons like humans—he thinks we are human.
"…Is it about the accessory?"
I can't help but narrow my eyes. He's insufferable, bringing it up now. He's just like that sanctimonious monk.
"…What?"
"The accessory Linie lost. You've been off since then. Is that why you're harsh with her?"
"…"
I stay silent. There's no point responding—he's already decided. No need to indulge him.
"We looked for it but couldn't find it. It's a shame, but Linie's just a kid. She didn't mean to lose it."
"…I don't need you to tell me that. We're demons. We don't care about such things."
His words are absurd. Malice? We don't have that. If we did, we wouldn't be demons. He forgives us, deceived by his own assumptions. Fine.
It was you who gave it to me. Don't you care it's gone? Why give it in the first place?
"This is our problem, demon business. Stay out of it, human."
It's our issue, not something a human hero can meddle in. I throw the obvious at him. He looks forlorn, but I turn to leave.
"…"
Linie stands there, expressionless, her demonic face devoid of emotion. Eisen's behind her. What's the point of coming outside?
"What?"
"Mother, are you angry?"
"…I'm not. It's a misunderstanding."
I brush off her question. She thinks I'm angry? Irrelevant. It doesn't matter. I'm tired of playing along with her human-child act.
"Where are you going, Aura?"
"To bathe. Don't worry, I can't escape you."
I leave without looking back. Staying is pointless. Linie tries to follow, likely recalling when I bathed her, an imprinted reaction.
"Don't follow me. You're in the way. You too, Himmel. Go peep on the elf."
I walk off, shaking them off. I can't stand their faces. The irritation grows, and I flee to the river alone.
(What am I doing?)
I keep walking, eyes on the ground. I've reached the river but don't bathe—just walk, searching for something that isn't there.
I've looked so many times. It's gone. I know it's meaningless, yet I persist. Days have passed. Rain fell. An animal might've taken it. Finding something so small in these mountains is impossible.
It was mine, so I search. That's normal. But it had no special value—neither rare nor magical. Why obsess? Linie's reaction is demonic: indifference. That's how demons should be. I thought so, too. So why am I irritated?
"…Idiot."
My usual curse slips out, aimed at myself. Footsteps approach. I tense, looking up.
"…Eisen?"
The familiar dwarf warrior stands there. Relief washes over me—better him than those two. But why is he here?
"Why are you here? I said not to follow. Here to bathe? Or to peep?"
I regain my composure, snapping at him. I told them not to follow. He's not here to bathe or peep, so why?
"I'm not Himmel. And you didn't tell me not to follow."
He strokes his beard, offering a flimsy excuse with confidence. His brain must be muscle. I'm too stunned to argue.
"Fine. What do you want? Here to lecture me like Himmel?"
Surely he's here about earlier, to tell me to act like a human mother, as if demons could become human after they've killed so many of us. But Eisen's words surprise me.
"Aura, you're a demon."
Obvious, yet it's what I needed to hear.
"Of course. So what?"
"Exactly. We're not human. We can't be. Dwarves, elves—it's the same."
He closes his eyes, speaking deliberately, as if to himself.
"But we can still connect. Demons have their own way."
His words, clumsy and vague, carry experience. Why is he so bad at this? Worse than a demon.
"What are you doing?"
Eisen wanders, searching the ground. For what?
"Lost something. Just looking."
He answers gruffly, oddly proud. I'm speechless.
"Fine. Do what you want."
I resume my futile search. We look, two fools in silence.
"I'm back."
"…"
Evening. I return with Eisen, empty-handed. My search, like his, yielded nothing. It's too dark to continue. We return in silence.
"You two are late. Linie's been a handful. Look at this mess."
Himmel acts as if lunch never happened, his face weary. The room is chaos—toys strewn everywhere. Linie's still wreaking havoc.
"What's this?"
"Linie. She's been at it. It's a problem."
The room's a disaster. My head aches—I'll have to clean this. I worried about facing Linie after earlier, but this overshadows it. Then, she spots me and approaches.
"Here."
Without warning, she holds something out.
"…What's this?"
My voice is colder than I expect. My eyes lock on her hand—a golden accessory, unfamiliar, likely Eisen's. Why give it to me? It's obvious.
My heart races. I feel dizzy.
"A replacement. For what I lost."
It's a substitute for the freesia accessory I lost.
She must've noticed my change since it was lost. To her, my unrest disrupts her peaceful life, so she found a replacement. Simple demonic logic.
Yet, I'm stunned—not by her actions, but by my reaction.
"Mother."
At her call, I swat the accessory away. It rolls across the floor. Linie stares, expressionless, not understanding her mistake.
"…Don't mock me."
She's not wrong. The mistake is—
"I'm not a human mother!"
Aura screams, rejecting Linie and her demonic self, and the hero who treats her as human.
She flees. Linie gazes at her hand and the accessory, uncomprehending. Eisen remains silent, eyes closed.
And Himmel—
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