Fifteen. Fifteen years old. Nine years since my parents' deaths, nine years since those monsters who dare to call themselves humans came in and took over my life. Five years since I was blessed with Belzeb, and he's my only true friend. How ironic that the incarnations of evil and malice are nicer than humans. Well, Belzeb may be the exception; from what I've heard of the other devils, they aren't kind either.

"I wonder what magic you'll have," Belzeb tells me, hanging off my shoulder and kicking his feet until I place my palm under him to catch him. He lets out a breath, before plopping down and crossing his stubby legs. I lower my hand a bit to a more comfortable position as I walk to the hall where the grimoire selection is taking place. "I heard the Royal families here in Spade have similar magics!"

"Each family is still different," I correct, turning a corner and not making eye contact with some of the Apostles. "My uncle and aunt had Sun and Moon magic, respectively. My mom and dad, they had Fire Creation magic and Water Creation magic, so I'm most likely to get a variant of that, or one of them rather than what my aunt and uncle had."

"Hmm, Creation magic is still powerful when utilized properly. The possibilities are endless with them. Not to mention, you still have my magic."

"Your lightning magic terrifies me," I chuckle, watching him tilt his head back and puff his cheeks out in a pout. "What? It's harder to control than I thought it would be."

"It'll get easier once you get your grimoire. You just can't control it right now. The real fun starts once those pages start turning."

"I'm sure they do, Belzeb," I assure, lifting my hand up to my shoulder so he can climb back on as we approach the massive doors leading to the selection room. My heart's slamming into my ribcage, adrenaline and excitement causing my fingers to twitch as I worked up the nerve to push on the door and walk in.

"Oh, it's little Kallsi! Are you excited to get your grimoire? I can't wait to see what kind of magic you can use!"

My skin crawls as I turn to face Vanica. She has that disgusting crazed smile on her face, her one eye wide and excited. She leans forward, her face inches from mine as she scans that horrifying eye over me. It lands on Belzeb, who tries to puff himself up to appear bigger. Despite his display, I could feel his little stumpy legs trembling.

"It's marvelous you can have your little devil manifest himself that way," she remarks, leaning back and walking past me. "Perhaps I should implant more curses in you to see how they interact with him."

"Vanica, I told you no more curses after she got her devil," Dante remarks from behind me. I didn't even hear the door open, and Belzeb disappeared with a small blip as his hand came down on my shoulder. I felt my fingers curl into fists as he squeezed, his fingertips digging into the bone as he forced me to turn around.

Breathe, Kallsi. You're not facing them alone. I'm with you.

The electric webbing in my pact bands, as I've started to call them, flickered a little brighter as I walked into the selection chamber. Grimoires lined the walls, floor to ceiling, an array of colors. The room was lit from a mysterious source at the very top of the ceiling, a massive spade symbol painted onto the floor with intricate designs around the perimeter of it. There's a gap between the tall shelves, a few feet of lifted stone leading up to a podium in front of a mural of the sun and moon.

There are other kids, all my age, maybe a few months older. They all look tired, pale faced. Terrified, depressed. They wouldn't even look up as Dante and Vanica walked me to the front, before taking their spots at the very front. They liked to come in every year to see what would be useful to them, and what could be shoveled to the side for mana harvesting and experimentation. The way they leer, they carry themselves, the air of malice around them. Behind me, I hear a girl start whimpering as the mage in charge of the ceremony sweeps in.

Her face was more haggard than ever, deep bags under her eyes and sunken cheeks. She looks ready to drop as she walks to the front, pulling her robes up so as to not trip over them before standing in front of the podium. Her pale brown eyes scanned the room, taking in the similarly droopy children before her.

"Welcome to the annual grimoire selection ceremony," she announces, her voice cracking towards the end. "I'm so excited to see so many happy, fresh faces, ready to begin their journeys forward, with magic, to rise above their limits and become the best versions of you, that you can be."

The room was dead silent, no one truly believing the hollow words escaping her lips. She couldn't even smile during it, and she sounded as if she were speaking from a piece of paper. Despite this, Dante began clapping, which led to the others around me beginning to clap. I started to, only for him to stop and the others immediately obey.

"Without further ado, let's begin the ceremony!"

She waves a hand in the air, a flourish of her fingers, sparks coming off the tips. There's a shuffling noise, and grimoires float down from the shelves. Some faster than others, pages flapping and soaring down into the expectant hands of the dreary children. I keep mine outstretched, that faint anxiety of what if I don't get one knotting my stomach as my heart throbs in my throat.

The others already had theirs, flipping through the pages to see what spells they already had, and how many were empty. There's still one grimoire in the air, swaying side to side as it lazily came down above me. My heart almost stops as it finally lands in my hands. It was cold to the touch, a brilliant ice blue with accents around the corners, and the signature spade symbol emblazoned in the center of the cover.

My hands shook as I opened it, seeing the spells already scrawled across the pages. Ice Creation magic, sculptures and trapping spells. Tears almost sprang into my eyes, my legs shaking. Would that be enough to keep me safe?

My legs gave way from under me, my grimoire slipping from my hands and the pages fluttering as it fell to the floor. Someone caught me before I bashed my knees into the stone, all eyes glued on me with bated breath. I looked up at the person who had grabbed me, a boy my age with grey eyes and brown hair. He smiled a little, opened his mouth most likely to ask if I was ok-

And he was gone. One moment he was touching me, the next he was a bloody smear on the floor. Not even his body remained, having been crushed to dust and blood under the gravity magic. Screams echoed in the room, the others running out and tripping over themselves as I fell to my knees. I didn't even know his name, and he's gone. Why? Why was he gone?

You would think, seeing my parents killed before my eyes, the daily horrors I've endured for the past nine years, would kill any emotions I had, the gnawing feeling in my stomach as I stared down at where the boy was just standing. I barely had time to see the smile, his eyes, his face, and a split second decision to help me cost him his life. His life, which had barely just begun, snatched away, and for what?

"Why...why did you do that?" I ask, my voice a choked whimper as I hold my head. Tears stream down my cheeks, falling off my chin as I look up to see Dante standing over me. His voided smile, those cruel eyes, his mere presence makes me sick, thinking of his presence makes me sick. "He-he was just helping me, why did you do that?"

"Kallsi, my dear sweet girl…" he coos as he bends down at the waist, using his finger to tilt my chin up so my eyes are glued on him. My hands fall from my head and to my lap, gasping between soft sobs. "The only man allowed to touch you is me. I thought that was an unspoken rule, given our vow."

He died, because of me. He died, because he caught me. He died, because he had a good soul, and wanted to help me, even in a miniscule way. He died, because I shouldn't have survived that night. He died, because of my cowardly family, and because of my own cowardice.

Kallsi, you didn't kill him, you can't blame yourself for what Dante does. You didn't kill him.

But I did. And how many more are going to die because of me? How many more innocent, kind souls will have to suffer because I survived where I should have died?

I stiffen as I feel Dante's hand travel from my chin to the back of my head, his fingers sliding through my hair. He sweeps them through it, my eyes trailing his arm as the long dark strands bleed through the spaces between the digits. It's so long, a constant weight on my head.

"You have such beautiful hair," he murmurs. "I wonder how you should wear it for our wedding. Vanica, should she have it up or down?"

"As if I know shit about that," Vanica grumbles, shaking her head as she came down to us and tutted the disintegrated grimoire. "And he had such good reserves. I wonder if he would have been suited for my curses?"

"Doesn't matter now," Dante sighs, standing up as he leaves me there on my knees. He chuckles and picks up my grimoire, holding it out to me. "Ice magic. Learn it well and be useful for me, my dear. I can't wait to see how you'll use it for me."

I won't be your pet anymore. I can't be your plaything. I can't live like this anymore. I can't, I'm going to waste away if I do. I hate this, I hate you, I hate all of you! How can you just-how can someone do this?!

But what can I do? I'm just a mage who just got her grimoire, a girl with no real knowledge of the outside. I'm trapped here, by my own weakness, by my legacy left behind by the cowards that bore me into this cruel world. Trapped here by these demons daining to call themselves true humans. Belzeb-

We'll get out. Don't worry, Kal. We will get out of here. Just have patience.