Malron and Seraphine locked eyes. "I don't understand, please explain," Malron repeated.
"Do I have to spell it out for you in English?" Seraphine chuckled. "Oh, all right. Well, here it is..."
Seraphine explained that any agreement would only be between demons and humans. However, it would be detrimental to the humans, while the benefits would remain in the hands of the demons.
It was because demons offered shortcuts.
Therefore, the angels tried to guard the hearts of the humans so that they would not be tempted by the whispers of the demons. Because the demons' offers would only lead people to get stuck forever.
"Your kind is cunning," Seraphine commented in the middle of her explanation, making Malron feel like he was being lectured by a know-it-all, old-fashioned person.
Seraphine continued.
Agreements between demons and humans were already documented in a holy book. However, some things were beyond the power of either demons or angels, called extraordinary events. These possibilities were two-sided; the demon became the Master or vice versa.
"Is that all?" Malron asked, not satisfied with Seraphine's explanation.
"Yes, that's all."
"So, how do I get back to the demon world? To free myself from Kieran."
"Oh, his name is Kieran."
Malron gritted his teeth. "Don't change the subject, Seraphine."
"I don't know, Malron. Maybe you should continue the arrangement with the boy." Seraphine shrugged. "The boy has a different aura. It's something unnatural."
Seraphine's advice was similar to Ugluk's, Malron thought. And it could have been more helpful.
"By the way, Seraphine... do you know anything about the High Priest?" Malron asked suddenly.
The angel nodded briefly. "Of course I do."
"Oh, then who are they?"
Seraphine's eyes looked at Malron sadistically. "Sorry, that's classified. Try looking for other information, certainly not from us, the angels," Seraphine emphasized the last word. "You and I are not allies," she continued.
"Okay, beyotch."
Seraphine rose from her seat. Her golden hair cascaded past her feet, swaying in the wind. Her wings spread and began to flap.
"Oh, come on. I was kidding. Explain it to me again, Seraphine," Malron begged.
"That's enough, Malron. I can only pray that you find the answers to all your questions and worries in your demon heart."
"Seraphine..."
"Malron, it is said that a demon once lived in heaven. But because of his pride, he was cast out. That is why he is called the fallen angel."
"What does that mean?"
"You will understand one day. For now, good luck," Seraphine replied rhetorically.
Seraphine's figure disappeared, leaving Malron alone on the pillar. The demon cursed, hoping that Seraphine would trip over her hair on her way out. But Malron thought better of it; Seraphine had wings. Indeed, angels flew everywhere.
"What are you doing?" Kieran's voice startled the demon.
Malron turned to see Kieran raise his head and stare at the demon sitting on the pillar - like a crow who had forgotten how to find its way home.
"Are you finished?" Malron asked back.
Kieran nodded. "Would it be all right if you took me home, sir?"
"Yes, it's okay. By the way, can you still call this place home?" he continued.
Kieran didn't answer; he bowed sadly and walked ahead of Malron along the pavement. Meanwhile, Malron walked behind the boy, leaving Kieran to mourn his unfortunate fate.
"You only pray for a few minutes," Malron commented.
There was a pause where Kieran waited to answer.
"I don't know what to pray for, sir."
"How come?"
Kieran shook his head. "It feels so sad to pray for my aunt and uncle to rest in heaven. Along with my parents."
"Don't you agree? Do you feel resentment towards the Creator?"
"Mmm... I don't know."
Suddenly, a cunning thought crossed Malron's mind.
What if the demon could start a conversation that could influence Kieran? Granted, Kieran wouldn't be easily swayed. But with sweet words, as if they weren't persuasion.
It could work, couldn't it? Malron thought.
And one day, Kieran would give his life to the darkness.
It would no longer be Malron who was enslaved.
*
They were about to cross the police line when a shrill voice called from the other side. A woman called Kieran's name and dashed toward them. Mrs. Guasch, who had met Malron and Kieran earlier that morning.
"Oh, my child!" Mrs. Guasch immediately hugged Kieran tightly.
Kieran, who had stopped crying, began to shed tears again. He returned the hug and sobbed, "Mrs. Guasch..."
"Come, dear, to my house. You shouldn't cross the police line," Mrs. Guasch said. "I know it's your house, Kieran. But not under these circumstances," she urged.
Mrs. Guasch glanced at Malron before taking Kieran in her arms and leading him to her house.
Mrs. Guasch's house was identical to Kieran's aunt and uncle's. A small patio, windows without bars, and an unfenced yard. Though barren, it was a comfortable environment since only a few houses were built there.
At least in the residential area, where houses were still scarce, there would be no signs of robbers or the mafia firing random bullets.
Mrs. Guasch promptly served them warm chocolate cookies straight from the oven, arranged on plates. Two glasses of white milk and a glass of candyfloss were also provided. Malron felt like he was in a Hansel and Gretel story.
"Kieran, you must be strong," Mrs. Guasch whispered.
The boy just nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks again.
"Well, I've informed the social worker. You can stay with me for now. Because Social Services will place you in one of the apartments or places you can rent cheaply." Mrs. Guasch began to speak at length. "Personally, I don't mind if you stay with me. But it's your decision; you're old enough to live alone."
"His house was burned." Malron's hand pointed reflexively behind him to Kieran's house. "To stay there, Kieran will need a tent."
"Well, I mean..."
Malron immediately interrupted Mrs. Guasch. "It's better not to talk about Kieran's decisions. Let him live, be healthy, and enjoy the suffering in his life because he has no one else," he replied sarcastically.
Kieran's eyes suddenly narrowed, and then he looked at Malron contemptuously. "That is very rude, sir. This time, I have to say it, you're being disrespectful. Mrs. Guasch is a woman, and you shouldn't be rude to women."
Malron's palm immediately felt burned.
[Conversion to the Master's command]
Once again, this child gives me an order I can't refuse, Malron thought.