Precise, razor-sharp claws raked over the hard tree bark. Curly snow hair framed a condescending face and cascaded over bony shoulders.

"Where." The question was delivered like a statement, her voice rigid and cold. The young boy at her feet shuddered.

She studied him in icy detachment. The small human male was the only one brave –or stupid– enough to have answered her inquiries. "A-a tall young man with pale hair..? I-I think I've seen one.." His sisters had looked guiltily grateful when he spoke; she had seen no parents.

Perhaps they believed she would have slaughtered the whole lot if she didn't find what she wanted. Brave he must be, that young boy, and very dedicated to his family.

Unfortunately, that makes the chances of him actually knowing anything about her brother slightly below 15%.

The boy stared at her in a bright gaze. She arched an eyebrow. Was he unafraid? He had wild rust hair and dusty cheeks stained with a myriad of dirty substances. Bright amber eyes burned with the fiery of the sun, glaring at her ice irises.

The boy slid his gaze down to the sword at her hip. "Kill me. I know nothing." He bowed his head down, exposing a pale, untanned stripe of skin on his neck. She looked him up and down, analyzing the worth of his body. Exotic, with a 70% chance of Gerudo descent. A fine specimen, he would sell for a fair price. Except she didn't need the money. Fear was a much better incentive than cash, and it would be a near insult to her kind if she did business with a human.

But if he is truly a male Gerudo...

Rare beyond belief, a Gerudo man was near priceless. Rumors were that they could perform incredible feats of the supernatural and their blood could be used for countless dark ceremonies. People of magic were extraordinarily valuable to demons. She could take what she wanted and leave him on the roadside, and –untrained, he was helpless against her.

The female had been silent long enough for the boy to shift uncomfortably. He dragged his gaze back up from the sword to stare at the demon's face. An artic hand seized his chin and forced his face upwards. Sharp nails dug trails of blood down his neck –his blood is so hot it burns my hand –andthe boy didn't even flinch.

Once more, fire clashed ice, indifference against passion, freezing eyes versus scorching ones.

"You are not ordinary, are you?" Her voice misted over him like a frosty breeze. He clenched his fist and pulled his face back to escape her clutch. "No, I am not." Magic swirled in his eyes—so much potential –and she wondered what was going on inside his head. Her analyzing tendencies kicked into overdrive.

There was over an 80% chance that his parents had died in the ongoing war at the South Wall, which would make him and his sisters orphans. He looked young, and she guessed his age to be no more than 15 at the most. An estimated 90% percent chance that he was unsatisfied and discouraged at the hand life had dealt him, which would give her a 70% gamble that his wishes could be to become better, more powerful.

She could see it; the boy had the most untapped strength, the purest ability that she had ever come across. The fact that such talent will likely never be used frustrated her to no end. She questioned his probable desire for more influence over his own life, and asked him so.

"If you are not ordinary, then why do you lead such an ordinary life? You must sense the power that you are capable of, and yet you refuse to use it. You are wasting approximately 94% of your latent ability. Don't you want more from life? "

The boy blinked rapidly and looked shocked, then very perplexed in response. His lips parted to speak. "It is the duty of a male to protect and support his family. My own desires are irrelevant compared to the safety of my blood." He told her that countless 'sorcerers' had offered to take him into apprenticeship, but they only wanted him, and not his sisters. Even after the death of his parents, he had refused them.

The woman raised an eyebrow. Sacrificing himself for his family? It was such a shame, then. Those girls were nothing but garbage; one glance revealed strong minds but absolutely no potential for the supernatural. Unlike the boy before her, she could sense their selfish hearts and it pained her to gaze into their agonizingly typical soul. Like her brother, she treasured the unique.

It was obvious that this boy and those girls were not related by clearly didn't know that, and even if she told him, there was only an 8% chance he would believe her.

She needed power like he had. It didn't matter if his motivations were embarrassingly stupid, this was a sparkling golden opportunity and she would take advantage of it.

The boy had stood up while she was calculating her options. He cocked his head to the side, examining her with little trace of the fear that humans usually had. She swung her head to face him.

"Be my apprentice." With one finger, she traced the contours of his shoulder. "You possess power beyond measure, and tutelage with me will tap into that." The boy did not cringe from her touch, remaining still as a statue. "Your sisters will be cared for, all your needs met. You will no longer be forced to toil at the field for hours on end, or hide from officials because of your ethnicity. Life for you will be splendid, so long as you swear loyalty to my king and study with diligence."

He was silent; his face as still and as hard as carved stone.

She stepped back. "But should you refuse my generous offer,-"why was she sounding so dramatic? Her brother must be rubbing off on her. "— I will wipe your memory of my proposal. You will continue to live the short and pathetic life of an immigrant, and perhaps there will come a time when your neighbors' greed sends you into the city to be executed for the crime of being a Gerudo. Surely you are not naïve enough to believe that you will be safe here forever."

Of course, she could just point her sword at his throat and bend his will. However…. the illusion of choice, of control over one's fate, would be the most effective means with this boy, whose turbulent life had always been decided by fate. "Nevertheless, the chance of your family dying is 60% higher should you reject my proposition."

The boy looked down, conflicting desires flitting in his eyes like leaves in a storm. A flicker of pain here, a memory there, the demon could read him like the scrolls in the library. The hurricane of doubt stilled, and settled.

She knew that she had won him over. The shine of his eyes were no less suspicious –demons were tricky creatures –but his posture was straight and his gaze cast down respectfully.

The female offered her pale hand. He hesitated once, twice. Then their fingers interlocked, and she did not bother to hide the ferocious grin that stretched her cheeks.

A/N: Thankyou for reading! Please leave a review, :))) I haven't written the next chapter yet, but fear not, this story will NOT be abandoned.