(3rd Person POV)
Daniel's throat tightened as he stood before the panel of demons, their otherworldly features making his palms sweat. The weight of their expectations – and his mother's hopeful glances – pressed down on his small shoulders like a physical burden.
When he tried to perform, his movements were wooden, his voice barely above a whisper. Each word from the script felt like a stone in his mouth.
Arthur raised a hand, gently halting the audition. "Thank you, Daniel." His gaze shifted to the boy's mother, his expression carefully neutral. "Mrs. Hayes, I don't believe Daniel is quite ready for this role. The camera picks up reluctance, and right now, I'm seeing a very uncomfortable young man."
"Oh, no, you misunderstand!" Danica stepped forward, her fingers threading protectively through Daniel's hair. "He's just shy around new people. Especially..." She caught herself before saying 'demons,' but the word hung unspoken in the air.
Arthur leaned forward in his chair, his voice softening. "I've been in this industry long enough to recognize the difference between stage fright and genuine discomfort. My films are significant commitments – months of shooting, intense schedules. The lead actor needs to want this, truly want it."
The truth of Arthur's words settled heavily in the room. Even if Daniel was Harry Potter's mirror image, even if Arthur was willing to invest time training him, forcing an unwilling child into such a demanding role would be cruel.
"But he does want it!" Danica insisted, her grip on Daniel's shoulder tightening slightly. "Tell them, sweetheart."
Arthur held up a hand, addressing Daniel directly. "Let me ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest." His eyes, though supernatural in their intensity, held genuine kindness. "Do you actually want to be the star of this film?"
Daniel froze, caught between his mother's expectant gaze and Arthur's gentle inquiry. His mouth opened, but Arthur spoke again before he could force out the answer his mother wanted to hear.
"There's no wrong answer here," Arthur assured him. "If you're not ready for this industry – or if you're unsure about working with demons – that's perfectly fine. Talent doesn't expire. The door will always be open if you change your mind later."
Something in Arthur's words struck a chord. Daniel's eyes widened, surprised that this demon director had seen straight through to the heart of his hesitation.
The weight of his situation pressed heavily on his young shoulders.
The entertainment industry's reputation haunted him through his father's warnings – whispered tales of corruption that made no distinction between human, elf, dwarf, or demon productions. Yet here he stood, desperate circumstances forcing his hand.
His father's illness had stretched on for weeks, draining not just their hopes but their savings. He could see the worry lines deepening on his mother's face with each passing day. The choice before him felt less like a decision and more like an inevitability.
But Arthur's unexpected kindness – the absence of pressure – sparked something in Daniel. Drawing a deep breath, he squared his shoulders. "I want to be part of your film project."
Relief softened Danica's features as her son spoke the words she'd been praying to hear.
Arthur's expression turned serious, his eyes holding Daniel's gaze. "Then understand this – I accept nothing less than total commitment. Half-hearted performances have no place in my productions."
Daniel nodded, then surprised everyone – including himself – by speaking up. "Could I... could I ask for something in return?"
"Oh?" Arthur's eyebrows lifted with genuine curiosity. "What might that be?"
Danica tensed beside her son, maternal instinct sensing dangerous territory ahead.
"I've heard..." Daniel's voice wavered but didn't break, "that demons can perform rituals... healing rituals." His fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt. "My father... could you heal him?"
"Heal your father?" Arthur's question hung in the air between them.
"It's nothing!" Danica cut in quickly, nervous laughter bubbling up. "Please ignore him, sir—"
Arthur raised a hand, silencing her protest. "Your father is ill?"
Daniel nodded, determination replacing his earlier nervousness. "If my father gets better... I promise I'll give you my best performance."
"What are you thinking?" Danica hissed, horror coloring her whispered words. "Demon rituals? Have you forgotten our Solarus faith?"
Daniel turned to his mother, desperation clear in his young face. "The Solarus healers couldn't help him, Mom. Maybe Mr. Arthur can..."
A soft chuckle escaped Arthur as he caught their exchange. "Healing your father?" His lips curved into a knowing smile. "That's quite simple, actually."
Behind his casual demeanor, Arthur's mind raced with possibilities. This could be the perfect opportunity to test his {Rose Magic}'s healing properties on humans. Sometimes the most interesting experiments arose from the most unexpected moments.
"Really?" Daniel's face transformed, hope lighting up his features for the first time since entering the studio. The change was striking – gone was the nervous boy, replaced by a child burning with possibility.
Danica's skepticism warred with desperate hope on her face. Even the demon executives exchanged puzzled glances, their thoughts practically visible: 'Since when could our kind heal?' 'Does Boss Arthur possess some secret magic?'
Arthur met Daniel's eager gaze steadily. "If you commit yourself fully to the film and join my agency, I'll do everything in my power to help your father."
"I promise!" The words burst from Daniel without hesitation.
"Very well." Arthur rose from his chair, his movement fluid and purposeful. "Take me to him. While I can't guarantee a cure, I do have... methods that might help."
The journey to their home passed in tense silence – through Cardiff's winding streets, into a taxi that had seen better days, finally stopping before a weathered apartment complex that spoke of dignity struggling against poverty.
Inside, the scene that greeted them struck Arthur like a physical blow. On a narrow bed lay a man whose illness had carved away at him, leaving behind a shadow that fought for each ragged breath.
"Father!" Daniel rushed to the bedside, Danica close behind, her face etched with quiet despair.
Landon's eyes fluttered open, focusing with visible effort. "Daniel... Son—" A coughing fit interrupted his words, shaking his frail frame.
"Easy, Dad." Daniel clasped his father's hand, hope threading through his voice. "We found someone who can help you."
Another harsh cough preceded Landon's bitter words. "I told you both... to stop wasting money on those... Solarus priests!"
"No, Dad – we brought a demon!"
Landon's coughing ceased abruptly, shock momentarily overwhelming even his illness. "You what?"
His gaze found Arthur, fixing on the horns that marked him unmistakably as demon-kind. Disbelief and anger warred in his fevered eyes. "Why would you bring... a demon can't possibly..."
"But Dad, your stories always said demons could—" Daniel started.
"Those were fairy tales!" Landon's outburst triggered another coughing spell. "No demon today has the power to trade wishes for souls! That's just... fantasy..."
Arthur stepped forward, his presence filling the small room. "Save your strength. I'm here to heal you, not debate folklore."
"Get out!" Landon's rejection came between gasping breaths, one trembling hand raised in a dismissive gesture. "No demon can... help me now..."
The hopelessness in Landon's voice cast a shadow over his family's faces, their last threads of optimism unraveling. But as Arthur stepped forward with quiet confidence, something in his demeanor made them hesitate to look away.
Despite Landon's weakened protests, Arthur's presence was immovable as mountain stone. His hand settled on Landon's chest, and the man's resistance melted away beneath the weight of that demon certainty.
Arthur's expression sharpened as his {Rose Magic} probed deeper, mapping the infection that had taken root in Landon's lungs. "Why didn't you seek proper medical care? The hospitals have potions specifically for this condition."
Another coughing fit wracked Landon's frame before he could answer. "Forty dollars... for treatment," he managed, bitter irony twisting his words. "We scraped together fifteen for the priest... emptied our savings for that much..."
A flicker of compassion crossed Arthur's features. "Then fortune favors you today. This illness? It's well within my power to remedy."
"What?" The word escaped Landon in a breathless whisper, echoed by his stunned family.
Arthur's smile held secrets as he channeled his magic. The {Rose Magic} flowed like liquid light, and Landon's eyes widened as vitality flooded back into his limbs. The transformation was swift yet profound – weakness falling away like an old coat shrugged off his shoulders.
Landon sat up, wonder written across his face as he flexed his fingers, pressed a hand to his chest. "This... this is impossible," he breathed, voice clear and strong for the first time in weeks. "I feel better than before I fell ill!"
Joy exploded across Daniel's face as he launched himself into his father's arms. Danica followed, tears streaming freely as their family embrace tightened.
"Wait—" Landon's voice cut through their celebration, turning to Arthur with sudden wariness. "Is this... are you claiming one of our souls as payment? That's how the stories always go..."
A soft laugh escaped Arthur. "Nothing so dramatic. I have no interest in souls." His gaze shifted to Daniel, warming slightly. "I simply want your son's dedication to my film and agency. That's payment enough."