In a shadowed room, Casmere knelt before a pedestal. Atop it, only the legs of the presiding figure could be seen, along with a small amount of light illuminating the hand its chin was leaning on.
"...And so we hunted. The kids haven't gotten along yet, and any queries I made about Gantria were swiftly deflected. I believe you are right, milord." Casmere's head faced the floor, not daring to look up at the man atop the dark green throne. Red orbs could be seen as the man opened his eyes, his legs shifting as he sat more upright.
"...It matters not. They are good kids, which is why it took a month to figure it out. They did not wantonly slaughter nor escape, despite the many opportunities you gave..."
The heavy voice was like gravel, scraping across the far walls as the voice seemed to be omnidirectional. The man paused, sensing the trembling of Casmere's mouth, and he waved for him to speak.
"I am glad you agree, sir. Very glad..." A single tear graced the ground, plopping solemnly. The man watched this with interest, surprised that his proud disciple would express emotions for any. That man didn't even show such attachment to his sister...or at least, not openly.
"Tell me more about that child, Bie."
"The child holds a calm mind, devilish intellect, and battle driven instincts. He has been unable to learn any techniques despite asking to view them, and he holds great power within him, milord."
An even heavier silence lingered for a moment, the man's presence oddly...otherworldly. Seraphic almost...and the anguished cries of demons seemed to beat against the high walls when he heaved.
"...Excellent. That boy might just be the one I was waiting for..." He tapped on the arms of his chair, and underneath the shadow his expression changed. Lips furled underneath the darkness as his eyes closed, turning into a meaningful smile.
--
Just as Casmere had said, a month quickly passed. Lulac took a whole week to recover, and Bie was petty as he chose not to waste any more energy on the matter. Getting closer with Wanxi and Gyuho, though being considerate enough to distance himself from them so that they could interact with Lulac, he was making no efforts to isolate the boy. He was well and truly washing his hands of the matter.
The Sad Drink stewed in his feelings, unable to express himself as guilt began to gnaw at his psyche. He questioned if the baby blue Guide before him simply wanted to watch him squirm, or if he was really trying to show him some modicum of kindness despite his own thoughts.
He wanted to apologize, but didn't know how. And this guilt manifested itself in the ways it normally would in a child, in awkwardness and restlessness and distasteful remarks with the intent to draw attention.
He attempted to include Bie in his jokes, though the boy would treat him with cursory politeness before quickly ignoring his efforts. He demonstrated his technique in an attempt to apologize, after hearing from Gyuho about his interest in skills and abilities. He baked a demonic roast, after hearing of Bie's love for food from Wanxi. He even asked Casmere advice, though he was reluctant to follow it...he would have to admit his own misgivings about himself in order to gain Bie's understanding.
...The shadowed image of his mentor loomed right before his eyes, that pearly smile seemingly mocking him. His strength...it was true that he was kicked out of his brood for his meager talents. But his mentor saw something the Sad Drink's broodmother did not, potential that would lead him to stand above many...but it laid dormant in his soul.
And so, hell began. He wasn't like Bie, who could accept things as long as he could see their benefit, or Gyuho, who saw nothing but strength and could endure whatever. And he couldn't be like Wanxi, who not only forgave the taste of defeat but emerged as an unscathed girl full of wonder and curiosity.
His low talent...no, his high talent! It was a curse, one that cursed him to a lifetime of underperformance. These thoughts danced around his head as he practiced looking in the mirror, structuring his mouth and struggling as he tried to force the words out.
"That hard to say "I'm sorry for being an obnoxious *ss?", huh?" Gyuho's gruff voice entered Lulac's ears as he stood beside the bedpost, leaning on the wall. Lulac rolled his eyes, his mouth suddenly regaining the ability to pronounce words as he riffed.
"Careful! You might break your word limit for the day, speaking all those complete sentences." His normal expression was sad, so it looked as if he was really concerned as he said this. Gyuho, and anyone else with ears could tell his sarcasm, though, and he simply shrugged.
"I say what I want when I want. Better than you, pr*ck. Keep practicing." The Vendetta Jackie was half joking and half serious, his demeanor showing that it really wasn't his problem. He was friends with Lulac and he was friends with Bie, so he gave a shot at helping. But if Lulac really didn't feel like it...well, he wouldn't be restricted in his choice of friends for anybody.
Gyuho walked to the area where the receptionist stayed, the woman's mask halfway up her face as she played with her fork, poking at the weird flesh inside a Chickenfooted Ghoul's head.
"Morning, Lah." That was the woman's nickname, since she told the Guides once before that she had lost her name long before. The woman turned to Gyuho and brought a chunk of greenish flesh to her lips, sending it inside her mouth as she chomped down happily. She waved her other hand, and Bie and Wanxi greeted Gyuho between bites.
"Morning, Gyu."
"Hey, how are you today? Want some food?" Wanxi gestured at an empty seat, a steaming plate of roasted demon meat resting as a pleasant scent fixed itself into the tall boy's nostrils.
"Bie, Wanxi. Cooking, right? Don't mind if I do." He hurriedly sat down, fangs gleaming as he mowed down. Lah twiddled her fork and guffawed, her green lips reflecting the torchlight that hung above them.
"Gyuho, there's more behind the counter if you want it. Go ahead and take some, I trust you all~ Thank you for the meal~" She chomped down on another hunk of flesh, garbled noises arising from her throat as she blushed in embarrassment. She grabbed a clean, ragged cloth, dumping some amber liquid onto it as she dabbed at her mouth.
"Excuse me."
"No problem, miss Lah. We know that you might've been unlucky enough to become a demon, if it weren't for the Fall Liquid."
"You're so nice, Bie. Even though I made a disgrace out of myself, drunk on demon blood when I told you. If only you could be so kind to one periwinkle kid we know?"
"...I will think about it." Lah gave a happy nod as she scooped out more meat, rapidly cleaning the skull before abruptly standing up and stretching her arms.
"Hiya, Casmere! Went well?" Lah's eyes radiated a murky green miasma that lapped against her owl mask, and both Bie and Casmere could sense it. The Demon Hunter nodded while Lah made her way behind the counter, pulling down her owl-mask.
"Good, things might've gotten...MESSY, for you. Heartless man..."
"That may have been true, once, but I am changing."
"Good for you...now, I've got a message from the man up below. You're moving up in the difficulty, this one is about three to four horns on the scale." She paused, deflecting Casmere's words while giving him a look that seemed to peel beneath his skin.
"Hugo Iberrfal wants you to hunt a Foul Clothed Trestbeast."