"Our heir… the heir to our Earth in Hell… what shall sustain as a befitting name for him?"

"Noir… hmm… What would go with our name?"

"Black… Black Noir… Kcalb… ! Kcalb! Kcalb! That's a wonderful name! … see how our child reacts to its lovely name! It's perfect… our perfect heir… he will be great, I know it."

"Belinda, truly you cannot be… overlooking our newly born infant. It cannot achieve success so easily as you make it sound."

"Please, he holds the blood of the two most powerful demons known! Me and you… with our power, he could overrule us as easily as breaking a toothpick… I have faith he could achieve as such."

…

"As you say, m'lady."

It had been twelve thousand long years since those praises had ever been exchanged to the lonely demon. Even being born of the most sacred, royal blood, he was treated lower than the peasants themselves; just for his differences. Kcalb was awful, absolutely awful in social situations. Stuttering being one of most horrible habits. The demon almost never left his wide open room, and kept himself to light studies (there was not much studying, considering how young he was at the time) and alone time.

Most frequently, he was teased for his abnormality. Why that was, no one could actually say. His eyes mostly gave it away; the inverted discoloration of the sclera and the iris. What was normally white was black and what was normally colored any color but white was colored, take a guess, white. If he were embarrassed or bashful, the white of his iris would blend into the cryptic blackness of the sclera; making it seem as if he had 'lifeless eyes'. His hair was as white as snow, and his skin was as pale as the full moon. His body was scrawny and frail for one so young, but he made up for that with a monstrous height of five feet and eight inches (while the regular height stood at four feet and seven inches) at the age of twelve thousand, or in 'normal years', twelve.

His horns, yes, his horns… they were most of the issue concerning his height. They were not fully grown yet, but were intimidating upon sight. They had a curve starting from the base, and ended near the end of the top portion of the head; shooting up straight from there with a threatening point. He wore black in every situation, and he had little to no companions; if any at all. His parents neglected him for this reason; Kcalb was nothing like they wanted him to be. They tortured him, beat him, left permanent scars… even the mark of damnation scorched into his side by burning metal. If tears could leave scars, he would say, his cheeks would be hollowed out and gone.

One day, however… his parents unleashed their every bit of anger onto him, declaring a public torturing. No one decided against it; no one came to help him. 'It was as if the world had nothing to say about me but silence' Kcalb would later quote before his session began.

"Mother…."

"….. M-Mother, please stop…."

"You're disgraceful! You're smudging your awful actions into our family name!"

"I have done nothing wrong… I have done everything you have told me… I've been obedient; I have done no wrong…"

"Your mother is right, Kcalb. A true disgrace to the Noir name… nothing like a king; nothing like the ruler this place needs. You are going to get what you have deserved for a long time now today, Kcalb Julius Noir."

The torturing began by handcuffing the child's hands behind their back and leading them through a line of jousting, angry men. They would throw rocks and sticks; whatever harmful object they could get their hands on. 'At this point, it was safe for me to say that no one appreciated me here', Kcalb would note later. 'The place where I have grown up… the place where I have lived all my life… and I have had no mercy with these people I would soon lead. I felt as if the core of my being had been cut out and stomped on by giants'.

The chamber he was dragged to was confined and dark; no one could look in but through the front. He was chained to the wall by his ankles and wrists with shackles, and no one, not by this point, seemed to take pity. From a distance, he could see the people whom he knew, the demons whom he spoke with at school, snickering with one another; watching as he be slain in front of the evil demons they were.

"I'm not like you…"

"….S-Stop comparing me to you…"

"I am not… nor will I ever be… like you…"

"Listen here, kid. I ain't here to judge or anythin', I'm just doin' as I'm told like the obedient guy I am. Y'don't seem too dangerous yerself, but listen 'ere, boy. Yer gonna get strong, and when you do… come back t'me, and I'll teach ya all ya need to know 'bout overthrowin' yer parents."

The demon's words brought silence upon the boy's lips, and the dirty man merely smirked.

"That-a boy. Now, you just stay like that fer me- theeeere yeh are!"

The shackles buckled tightly against his wrists and ankles to the point where his fingers began to swell, and he bit his lip trying to hold back his sobs. Another smirk, and the man moved away to have everyone admire the 'before' version of this to-be mess of blood and meat. Kids laughed hysterically in the back of the rows, and the adults, the ones whom Kcalb looked up to and honored, gave him stern glares. Tears began pricking at his eyes, and he watched in horror as a wall, which looked to be opaque on the inside, was really transparent from the outside.

"W-What are you doing…?"

"P…Please stop…!"

"I have done nothing to do you wrong!"

His cries were of no use, as tears trickled down his cheeks doing so. He was stripped of his shirt and his trousers, until he was only left clothed with a heavy fur coat. Why it was a fur coat, no one knew, but it amused the crowd, and roars of laughter emerged from it. The demon begged and pleaded for the laughter to seize, but to no avail. Choking back a sob, he dropped his line of vision to the ground, before the walls began to grow red, and thorn-like vines of steel began to emerge from the wall in which Kcalb was hanging from. The sharp thorns dug into his back, and began to wrap around his stomach, sending out a shattering scream and cry from the boy.

"M…Make it stop…!"

He sobbed, twisting his wrists in means of breaking free. Only more steel vines of thorns emerged, and wrapped around his neck in means of keeping his cries at bay. A yelp was all that was heard, until any other plead he tried to make came out as a small dribble of blood from the mouth. The cellar was heating up rapidly, as assumed to be the case of the red walls. The demon made more frequent attempts to break free, but with an unfortunate lack of magic skills, there was nothing to be done. He grit his teeth tightly as he yanked his body forward, only to get a sputter of blood escape his lips. His eyes widened at the horrifying sight, and he began to cry once more; nearly losing the ability to breathe.

"Stop… Stop…! This is irrational!"

Kcalb's voice was inaudible through the crowd, and he felt like giving up here and now. That's when strange things came into play. A new power he had never felt before surged through him; or was it just pain? His weak body grew limp in the grasp of the thorns and shackles, and the heat, while wearing nothing but a fur coat, began to burn his skin to a minority. His thrashing grew more violent, and the blood coming not only from his throat, but his stomach and back was something to behold. He screamed and shout and threw himself forward in attempts to get away, and that's when he finally began to hear the crowd.

"Look at that stupid boy, flipping around like that. Who does he think he is?"

"Sure ain't no son of our king, that's for sure."

"Can't do anything to save himself now, can he?"

"Disgraceful."

"He's so weak! Look at him trying! Ha!"

Insult upon insult enraged him unlike ever before. Such things he simply took to the heart; fusing them into anxiety, sadness, and depression, but now… now was no time to loathe. It was life or death. The pain from the tightness of the shackles and the pinning of the thorns held no effect on him anymore; now all there was, was red. He clenched his fists, closed his watery eyes, and listened to each and every insult.

"Pathetic! If I were in a situation like that, I'd kill myself!"

"I'm surprised he isn't dead yet. Die already, you piece of trash!"

"Some king, huh? Why can't one of our sons be ruler? They'd be better than this kid!"

….

"Kcalb… Julius… Noir… you have brought disgrace upon our people… all because of your worldly existence, ever since the day you were born… we knew we had been cursed by the gods. With you! The result of my own flesh and blood! If my name isn't Lucius Noir… your name shall have no part of me."

His father's voice rang through his head as clear as any other jeer from the crowd. A pain shot through his spine, but… it was a strange, good sort of pain. He liked it…~ Kcalb lashed forward one more time, screaming to the top of his lungs the scream of a boy who was finished with it all. From that, the horrific scene began to unfold. Splitting right through the stomach coiled vines were three pairs of wings; six in total. They were large in size, black in the middle, and a lighter tint of black along the spinal part. There were gasps, but most of all, there was terror.

More vines began to grow and lash at his feet and legs and torso, before tails began to sprout; splitting through those vines like a knife with cheese. One, two, three… more tails grew, until they stopped at the impossible number of fourteen. They slithered like snakes in the air, and pointed upward their spear-like tips; sharp and ready for combat. He stared at the crowd with a snarl, before he noticed the fear they held in their eyes; realizing what he had just done. It was as if everyone's rage had entered him, and his fear and agony had divided up amongst the crowd.

"I'm… sorry…"

The young, frail boy's stressed body returned to its state of pain, and his wings and tails limped down with him. He let out a sharp gasp, before turning to tears. From the silence, a bright lights began to form away from the crowd, and the demons looked over and shrieked.

"It's the gods! They're here! It's our final judgement! Get the heir!"

They shouted, before they were commanded to silence by a booming voice. It felt as if everything shook, and down descended a small girl with long, ebony black hair and a sparkling, drape-like dress with a design of diamonds, along with a diamond crown bestowed upon her head. The tall man next to her appeared to be five hundred times her height, and the god turned his head to the chamber.

"You have your heir in there… do you not understand what you do? Etihw, save him."

Etihw, which was the girl's name, nodded, and ran towards the crowd to save the tortured boy. The current king and queen -parents of Kcalb- teleported towards the god, and poofed into incredible height with the blink of an eye. Within the few seconds of that transformation, the girl had already walked through the barely visible door and looked up at the sobbing demon. He looked so… fragile and weak… she almost felt sorry for him. While his eyes were closed from the exhaustion, Etihw undid the shackles, and helped Kcalb up to his feet.

"There you go!"

"A-… I… thank you… Ghh!"

Kcalb limped to the other side in pain, before the young god caught him halfway, and let him lean on her as she half walked half teleported back to her father with the beaten boy dressed in nothing but a black fur coat.

"We will be taking Kcalb Julius Noir until you demons learn to control yourselves. Until then, your heir is mine, and you will have no one to rule you. Until that day comes… I bid you all farewell."

When the god teleported, everything went into darkness.