I'll be using a new perspective for the Music Festival and adapting it very, very differently. I hope you enjoy the read!
TW: Opera is temporarily misgendered by their family due to loss of contact. Mentions of past torture of a disabled individual and restrained child witness.
Warning: Deaf character, issues with communication that will be expanded upon in-story.
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Soprano had been reading over some of the Clan's suggestions for the end of year celebrations when she felt a flurry of thumps coming towards her office. She paused as she lifted egyptian blue eyes towards the door just in time for it to open with a notable tremor as it hit the wall. She blinked with a questioning raised white eyebrow at her winded daughter who had paused at the door seemingly out of breath.
Re'mi held a letter close to her chest while she swiftly shifted long strands of black hair out of her face before moving closer to her. Her golden eyes were wide as she pressed the letter into her hands.
Soprano took the letter and looked it over. The handwritten script of the address was unfamiliar, but lovely and neat.
The return address was Babyls School of Higher Education.
Soprano tilted her head and puzzled at it before deftly opening it with an opalescent letter opener with etched flowers and butterflies throughout its length.
She pulled out the single slip of paper held within folded thrice and opened it, expecting some sort of long official letter.
Instead it was a hand-written script, with not even a paragraph to proceed it.
'Dearest Mother,
I have a fifteen year old son.'
There was no signature, no contact information to respond with, no lingering scent to identify the author.
Just. Those nine words.
Soprano stared at it as her mind whirled through the possibilities. She checked the envelope to ensure it had arrived at the correct recipient.
It was addressed to her.
She then moved back to the letter, re-read it, and re-read it again.
Around fifteen years ago was when that horrible man from Border Patrol had-
Soprano stood abruptly, before turning to Re'mi with both fear and excitement. She couldn't hear her own words, but she knew she was shouting with emotion as she grasped her daughter, "It must be Opera! This must be from her!"
Re'mi didn't get the chance to mouth anything before Soprano hugged Re'mi close with a barely contained squeal of excitement, "She finally reached out to us!"
Soprano could barely contain herself. She released her daughter and swiftly turned to her computer to begin searching for information related to Babyls school, and soon enough, the result was that the latest upcoming event was the Music Festival, performed by first years- tomorrow!
They had no time! They needed to get a move on!
She turned to her nineteen year old daughter, "Pack an overnight bag, something to cover your ears with, and collect La'ti! I'll pack a bag for her and myself!" She tucked the letter and envelope into her top over her heart as she scrambled to send out a handful of texts with shaky hands.
Re'mi grasped her wrist and Soprano paused to look up to her. She looked both frustrated and confused, and mouthed, 'Why?'
Soprano took a moment to take in a deep breath and calm herself before caressing her daughter's cheek with loving care as she made sure she spoke in a tone she hoped was gentle, "Because there is much to make right."
Her relationship with Opera had fallen apart at the seams the moment she had been introduced to the concept of possibly joining the Lust Group. It was a common practice among their Clan, however, their children weren't brought into such knowledge until they hit double digits.
It was a slow and careful process, to ensure they wouldn't become stressed. However, Opera's reaction to their own growing body, coupled with a number of other things she simply hadn't been able to articulate, caused her to pull away and avoid the household outside of school hours. Before Soprano knew it, they had beaten up every last one of the Clan's males and Security Devils on their way out into the wilds.
The Clan had not been prepared for such a strong girl to be born to them, and Soprano's hearing had degraded to such a point that she could barely hear Opera yelling at her when she had tried to understand what was wrong.
She hadn't known how to explain herself, how to help her child, nor who to turn to.
Opera had left the nest young, and ever since, with every new child Soprano brought into her silent world, she did her utmost to know of their needs and voice.
And then the Dog of Border Patrol had ruined the balance she had created for her children over the past couple of decades for reasons that were never written out nor explained to her.
All she had gotten was a bow of apology from the Head of Border Patrol, Azazel Henri, for the physical and psychological trauma she was dealt, and a traumatized four year old who became hyper prone to bouts of being feral and overbearingly protective.
Soprano changed into traveling clothes, styled her long white hair into a braided bun, and secured a wide blue scarf around her neck. She packed two sets of clothes for herself and minimal hygienic supplies, before doing the same for her eleven year old daughter La'ti.
She brought the two sacks to the entryway where her daughters and displeased partner stood in wait. She set her shoulders straight as she looked into his eyes, "I need answers, and I do not have the patience for mere parcels to get them."
Her partner went to speak before sighing. He turned to Re'mi and shared some words, before turning to La'ti and doing the same.
Her partner then pulled her close and brushed his Mana against her. WorrySafeReturn, JourneyLongCareful.
Soprano nuzzled him under his jaw in request for forgiveness and brushed back with her own reassurances.
He pulled back, gave her a short goodbye kiss, and released her to her daughters.
Their carriage awaited them, and Soprano was thankful for the basket of snacks and small drinks her partner had thrown together for them for their journey.
They would have to ride through the night, but Soprano was determined to push through for the sake of her estranged daughter.
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The morning of the Music Festival was loud as parents and students arrived in a jumble of colors and excitement. Shichirou's Buzzer traced against every individual who entered the school as the grounds were filled with a plethora of unusual visitors. Most had already brushed against his Mana when they had arrived for the Battra Party demonstrations earlier in the year, however, there were some individuals he had to purposely come into contact with while directing visitors to where they needed to go.
That was when his Mana brushed along three new presences. He shifted to look at them as they approached with scarves covering their heads.
Shichirou frowned as he tilted his head, "Welcome to Babyls. I can't help but notice that I haven't seen you before for previous events." The woman with white bangs blinked up at him, silent as she tilted her head slightly.
The black haired girl with golden eyes shifted and took command, "We're here to see the Music Festival, one of our family members is a first year." It was an assumption based on the contents of the letter, and thus, as true as they could guess.
Shichirou hummed as he looked between the three girls, "I see. Most parents and family received an invitation for this event." It was why he had noted them- each family group was requested to bring the event invitation with them for ease of entry.
These three girls had no such thing.
The woman in the middle reached into her ample bosom that gave the Head of Lust a run for her money, causing Shichirou to look at the younger daughter in silent stress while attempting to be polite, before a folded letter was presented to him. He carefully took the letter, and looked over the envelope.
He puzzled at it, and with a questioning glance and returned nod, he pulled out the letter and read it.
Shichirou stared at it aghast, before rubbing at his temple with barely contained disbelief.
He refolded the letter, handed it back to the woman, and hesitantly shifted closer to the back haired teenager as he spoke gently, "Would your guardian's name happen to be Soprano..?"
The girl blinked before nodding, "Yes, that's my mother's name."
Shichirou pulled back with a heavy sigh, "I see." He turned and glanced green in the crowd before calling out, "Valac-san!"
The green haired matriarch paused to look his way before smiling and moving closer to him, "How can I help you, Balam-sensei?"
Shichirou rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Could I perhaps trouble you with assisting these three to the auditorium's family seating..?"
Valac's eyebrows rose in surprise before turning to the three girls patiently waiting, "Certainly." She motioned with her hand, "Follow me." She giggled, "My daughter is a first year, and I'm looking forward to her performance!" She pulled out a recreated copy of the performance pamphlet she had in her left hand and passed it over to the younger child as she pointed to her daughter's name as the last acting class, "I'm looking forward to the result of everyone's hard work!"
The white haired woman pulled her head covering closer as she tapped the pamphlet. The child handed it over, and the woman swiftly leafed through it before puzzling a moment. She frowned before sighing softly and nodding to herself.
The three girls thanked the Valac matriarch for guiding them to their shared destination, and they sat a row behind her to watch what would be a wonderful string of performances.
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Iruma's world was fluffy and soft. He is vaguely aware that Agares was kind enough to lend him Master's comfort as whatever his mother had given him did its job.
He could feel the tips of his clamped down ears a little too much, and his fingertips were strangely over-sensitive.
Weird.
There was a commotion, and he felt his world move swiftly to the right.
The sounds were loud but garbled, but there was something in the air. A current of unease.
'The Pack is nervous.'
Iruma was glad Hermod didn't seem to be affected by whatever he was.
"You are missing something that you need."
Iruma's cloudiness shifted. He wanted to ease his Pack and impart faith.
"How exactly do you expect to create a sound that will satisfy me while you're in such a sorry state?!"
Iruma took in a deep breath, his heart was steady as he spoke with power. "Purson-kun will come for sure."
He isn't entirely sure what happened after that as his awareness slipped away into sleep again.
But the hearts of his Pack had settled, and that was enough.
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Soprano clasped her hands to her chest as she felt the energy of the auditorium. The excitement and anticipation- it reminded her of her years performing on stage, before she went to minimal private venues, and then to recording only releases of her music.
She still had her pitch, and the years of training she'd had. As she'd gone deaf, she'd memorized how each note vibrated within herself and around her.
The first act opened up with an exhilarating yell in a c major chord that grabbed the audience's attention.
The show was beautiful, and she could only imagine what words she couldn't quite catch or understand by lip reading.
She focused on the overall picture for the story, instead of the details. For a first year's performance, it was spectacular. So many of that class were worthy of further training to expand upon their musical giftings.
The second was a musical competition between classical and rock- a fascinating clash of vibrations and beats as they battled each other musically.
The third show was a heart-wrenching tale. The characters, the flow of the garments, the props- all of them were fascinating and well advanced for the perceived talent of ones so young.
The fourth and fifth classes were also amazing, yet, the focus slowly moved away from the stage, and towards the final performance.
The vibration of everyone's hearts- the flickering and pitch of their Mana-
Soprano couldn't help but keep her eyes glued to the stage as she felt the world around her.
MisfitsExcitementWonder
Soprano tilted her head at how clearly she could understand everyone's desire.
Gaap-kunMi'LordIruma-kunAsmodeus-sama!
How curious-
And then the final performance began:
Lilith's Red Carpet
For a moment she wasn't sure if she was missing something. So many of the other performances had been loud, with clear vibrations running through the floor and the bodies around her.
Now it was silent, until she focused on the pianist.
It was a gentle sound, a sound that was not overly forward, but no less present.
She focused on him, the blue haired boy who was playing the accompaniment.
There- a gentle vibration, as if trying to hide, while placing more focus on the performers and the story they were weaving together.
There was Hope.
How… strange, to sense such a strong urgency, an expectation of fulfilled Hope.
Soprano observed the pianist, and slowly, she realized that there was something very familiar about him.
His Heart wasn't like the others. He was Different.
She thought of her Great Great Great Grandfather, who she had met only once.
That meeting had impressed something upon her, and she remembered that he hadn't had the same sort of ears as hers. They'd been round, and she remembered feeling sad when he had weakly caressed her hair while stating his hope that he was truly the last.
Soprano had been sworn to never speak of that meeting. Her ancestor had been the last of a family secret that hadn't been fully divulged until many many years later, and had been a source of trouble between them and Border Patrol.
She understood it now, that marked difference. That uniqueness in blood and heart.
The pianist looked so happy as he played, and his Heart spoke of how proud he was of every last one of his classmates.
The child's Heart sprouted wings the moment the final piece of their play made their appearance. A child of the terrifying Purson Clan, as he burst out a loud sound with his trumpet- as a new and powerful vision filled the hearts of the audience.
The class was nearly bursting with sound, their vibrations carried through the bodies of the crowd into a crescendo of ecstasy.
Soprano took in a deep breath and sighed as the show came to a close.
Her Heart burned with fire and love, and as she focused on the blue haired child, she Knew.
He was the child Opera had written about.
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Soprano observed the students as they rushed the Misfit Class. She tilted her head, and many adults spoke amongst themselves.
Cautiously, Soprano began to glance around. Away from the students, and moreso in the family seating.
Where was Opera..?
Surely she wouldn't miss her son's performance, so where might she be..?
She didn't even know what sort of occupation she'd ended up in! For all she knew, Opera could be a teacher!
A body came close and gently clasped her wrist. She turned, and she met the bespectacled gaze of her surprised friend. Soprano gasped and breathily mouthed, "Skadi-chan?"
Scáthatch tilted her head, clearly puzzled as she carefully pressed her Mana against her. ConfusionWorryConcernSurprise
Soprano grinned toothily as she easily took out the envelope she'd been given the day before, and once the Naberius matriarch read it, she seemed to slump with an absolutely dumbfounded expression. She mouthed something to herself while shaking her head as she put away the letter and handed the parcel back to her.
She gently squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. FindChild?
Soprano tilted her head. It seemed the way her friend was asking was unclear- her daughter, or her grandson?
She wasn't sure, but she shook her head in the negative, since she had yet to meet one of her eldest daughters.
Scáthatch gently coaxed Soprano out of her seat, much to Re'mi's agitation, and carefully turned her around.
Soprano began to frantically look around for a head of black hair with red eyes.
She slowly felt disappointment when she found such a sight lacking, and her friend gave her a reassuring squeeze before pressing against her Mana again. Red
Soprano blinked, before zeroing in on a head of shocking red hair with familiar ears. She was missing curves, and she was much taller than she had anticipated, but once Soprano saw that familiar black tail, she Knew that person was her estranged daughter.
She was wearing a butler's uniform, and seemed to have her attention on multiple others.
Soprano's heart clenched at the sight of her daughter. She had changed so much, but she was hers and alive and well.
Soprano felt something that had been coiled tight within her chest for decades melt at the sight of her as tears blurred her vision.
Re'mi gently tugged her sleeve before dabbing at her face with a handkerchief in concern. Soprano smiled wetly and took the cloth from her daughter and tried to calm herself. She could get some answers in more ways than one, and hopefully reconnect to and apologize to her daughter.
She hoped she'd give her the chance to do so.
Soprano sniffed, and settled in wait.
There were far too many people still, and she could wait a little while longer.
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Opera couldn't help but tease Ameri a little for her reaction to Iruma's performance. She was so desperately in love with their child, that it was just a tiny bit sad he seemed so clueless about her advances.
Kalego's Mana came in short waves through their bond with feelings of pride and annoyance.
He was overall pretty pleased, even if he wouldn't show it.
Poro-chan-sama needed to stop grabbing him though. He was ready to snap her head off.
Shichirou on the other hand was… strange, to say the least. There were waves of joy and parental pride, curiosity, and then… dread.
What in the world was he dreading?
Of course, both of their boys seemed to be keeping an eye on… something, so someone unwelcome had gotten through the front door.
Poro-chan-sama seemed to have kept a press member suspiciously close to them throughout the day, to the point of restraint.
That wasn't the touch of affection, she was suppressing that individual.
Sullivan didn't seem overly concerned, and until Shichirou's suspicions could be more properly proven, that oddity would have to be ignored.
Kalego would rip out any intruder's throat the second they came close- he was entirely prepared to throw someone into the dirt and force-feed it to them.
Opera took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly through their nose as they clasped their hands behind their back.
Opera made eye contact with Iruma and brushed against his Mana. ProudWonderfulHaveFun
Iruma's eyes gleamed with joy as he made a tiny nod and turned to say something to Lied.
The Misfits slipped out as Kalego followed them, his eye roll more than enough to state his feelings.
He was so damn proud.
Opera relaxed, "Principal, I should leave to look over our recordings and photos of Iruma-sama's performance."
Sullivan nodded enthusiastically, "Of course! Go on ahead, and make sure to prepare a congratulatory party for my grandson!"
Opera bowed slightly at the waist, "Absolutely, sir."
Shichirou's Mana brushed through their bond in surprise.
Opera straightened and turned around to look his way, only to find three scarfed ladies behind them.
The woman in the middle smiled at them as she cautiously brushed her Mana against theirs. Opera.
Opera's heart leapt into their throat. They firmly gripped onto their professionalism despite the swift spiral of confusion they found themself in. "...Mother?"
Soprano's eyes became glossy with a pained smile as she spoke in a far too quiet voice, "Can we talk..?"
Opera wasn't ready for this, nor were they prepared. Yet, they couldn't be entirely surprised. They'd written a short letter with absolutely no details- they'd just hoped that it would take a good week to reach their Clan's estate.
The mail system could be amazingly fast when it felt like it.
Opera took in a deep breath before nodding, "Alright."
They glanced at Shichirou, and now his strange waves of distress made sense. He knew their mother had arrived, and hadn't warned them.
Opera gave Shichirou their full attention, and the avian demon shuffled over to them and nervously adjusted his mask, "Can I help you, Opera-senpai?"
Opera gave him the most unsettling yet professional smile he'd ever seen on them, and he shuddered as the frantic thought of, 'I'm in so much trouble-' shot through his head. "Professor Balam, if you wouldn't mind guiding these three to your office for a short meeting, I'd greatly appreciate it."
Oh. Oh shit was he in trouble.
Shichirou swallowed dryly, "Y-yes! Certainly!" He turned to the three and motioned with his hand, "Please follow me!"
The two younger girls glanced at their mother before Soprano nodded, and gave Opera one last lookover, "See you soon."
Opera nodded to their mother, and the three girls followed their mate at a comfortable pace.
Sullivan placed a gentle hand on their shoulder, "Do you need me to come?"
Opera shook their head, "You have your duties as Principal. I will resolve my personal business myself."
Sullivan pressed against their shoulder before moving away to continue the closing ceremony.
Opera stood and zoned out towards an empty space on the wall. They were a jumbled mess of feelings, and they knew precisely why and how this could happen.
Scáthatch cautiously approached them as she removed her detection warding glasses, "Opera." The Security Devil turned their attention towards the Naberius matriarch. "Please be patient with her."
Opera sagged as they glared at The Lady, "I will do my best."
Scáthatch smiled bitterly, "Your younger sister is always on edge and very protective, which is why I'm warning you as such. Just… Please hear her out."
Opera's eyes widened before puzzling over the two girls at their mother's side.
The older one's eyes were gold.
Oh dear.
Opera nodded, "Thank you for the warning."
Scáthatch nodded and motioned them along, "I hope for an amicable resolution between you."
Opera tilted their head, "You seem quite invested in my mother's well-being."
Scáthatch gave them a somewhat empty look, "I've built a careful friendship with Soprano. I'll have you know that your mother didn't have the courage to leave the house just three years ago."
Opera's eyes widened, and now they were curious. Damn. How troublesome.
"I see." They turned away from The Lady, "I will have to excuse myself, Lady."
Scáthatch nodded and took a half step back, "That child's performance was splendid. He did a wonderful job."
Opera blinked before giving her a small smile, "Thank you. Your son trained them well." With that, they departed.
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Opera stood before Shichirou's office door and took in deep breath before opening the door on the exhale.
The older daughter immediately turned to them with her hackles up and her fangs bared.
Opera felt boredom at her show of agitation before snapping their Mana against her. "You are intruding upon My Life, My Job, and are of Lower Rank than myself. Sit. Down."
The black haired girl growled, stiff, before Soprano grasped her wrist and turned to her.
The two seemed to communicate quietly, before the high strung teenager moved around the couch and sat with a petulant plop.
Opera moved gracefully to the other empty couch as Shichirou nervously shifted behind it. They nodded to him before turning to settle into their seat with relaxed professionalism. They turned to the younger quieter girl with gray hair and green eyes, and spoke in a gentle tone. "What is your name, little one?"
The girl blinked. Her head scarf had been moved to around her neck to show off her cat ears, just like the other two. "La'ti."
Opera nodded, "And do you mind me asking how old you are?"
La'ti smiled a little as she focused solely on her much older sister. "Eleven."
Opera was a little surprised, but not overly shocked. Their Clan was prone to having several children over their lifetimes. They nodded and turned to their more agitated sibling, "And you?"
The girl watched Opera suspiciously before shrugging, "Re'mi, nineteen. Rank He (5)."
Opera nodded, "Have you chosen your career path yet?"
Re'mi gave them a long and distrustful look, "Why do you care?"
Opera shrugged nonchalantly, "I became Lord Sullivan's Security Devil around the age of thirteen. You seem like a dedicated demon to your ambitions."
Re'mi blinked before relenting a little, "I want to be mother's Security Devil."
Opera was a little surprised, but felt a small swell of warmth at the idea of having a younger sibling in the same profession as them, "I see."
La'ti hummed, "Opera-onee-sama's pretty capable, huh?"
Opera frowned temporarily before straightening, "I… suppose." They contemplated their next words with caution, "I would prefer it if you used more gender neutral terms in reference to myself. I go by they/them, so calling me your older sibling would be preferable."
La'ti's eyes widened, "Oh. My apologies, uh-" She puzzled for a moment, "Opera-san?"
Opera nodded, and La'ti relaxed into her seat, happy that she hadn't offended her older sibling.
Re'mi tilted her head as if preparing to say something, before Soprano gently placed her hand over her's.
Re'mi leaned back as Soprano shifted to sit up straighter, "Do we have access to any blank notebooks, or pieces of paper?"
Opera turned to Shichirou, and he nodded before going off to fetch the requested materials. In the meantime, Opera turned back towards their mother and tilted their head in question.
Soprano smiled tiredly, "I think it would be best if the two of us wrote what we wanted to say, so that we can come to a mutual understanding without interruption. I am curious about how you came to have a child, and perhaps, I might find answers for the torture I went through around fifteen years ago."
Opera's eyes widened as they went stiff. They met Re'mi's eyes, and the girl's eyes flashed into a brighter gold.
Opera shifted back to their mother's gaze and nodded, their expression stern as too many questions rolled through their mind, and unease swirled in their gut.
Shichirou handed them a pad of paper and pen, and then did the same for Soprano.
They both began to write in ringing silence.
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Around fifteen years ago, Border Patrol entered our home. Re'mi was four at the time, and I wasn't given the chance to dismiss or hide her before I was bound and shoved face first into the carpet. I was terrified, as I went completely deaf six months after you left the Nest.
I know I screamed and cried, I attempted to beg them to at least take Re'mi away, but either I was too stressed to be understood, or they believed she would be leverage to get what they wanted.
I don't know what information the Dog of Border Patrol was looking for, but no matter how much of his Mana he pressed against me, nor how deeply he cut into the skin near my wing root, I had no answers.
From what I understand, Re'mi tried to tell them I was deaf, as it is our Clan's habit to protect and hide the fact that those with my coloring are prone to losing their hearing, or are born without the ability to hear. They however, refused to listen, and one of the Agents bound her mouth and held her to watch.
I could feel the Dog's frustration, the way his Mana crackled against me, but I was in pain and terrified. I lost sense of time, and then Re'mi's father arrived after I had gone delirious from blood loss and terror, that I couldn't hear, and that they were tormenting me and causing my daughter irreversible psychological trauma without due reason.
Some time passed, and the Head of Border Patrol came to apologize to me personally, but I couldn't understand him. He didn't bother to give me any written documents, and proceeded to only speak with Re'm's father after a prolonged bow.
Re'mi fell into a three week long Wicked Phase, and went Feral for another two, before I was well enough to calm her. Ever since then, she has been glued to my side as much as possible, and she strives to grow in her physical strength.
I don't know what connections to make, or who to ask in regards to her growth. It seems that those within our Clan are hesitant to deal with her, as she can overpower far too many of our people when she falls into her Feral Cycle.
I won't ask you to train her, but if you could perhaps give her tips, or be open to dialogue, I would appreciate it.
…I would like to ask why Border Patrol placed their eyes on you, but perhaps, the question is dual sided.
Though I have yet to meet my grandchild, I can only suppose and guess that he was the blue haired pianist in the final performance? They look nothing alike, and I only met my ancestor once, but he reminds me sharply of my Thrice-Great Grandfather.
You see, I was the last of our Clan to be let in on the secret that Humans are Real.
Our Ancestor was the Last to carry traces of Human Blood, of which has miraculous Healing capabilities for us demons. They are an asset and a living elixir of power, even with polluted blood. He'd had similarly rounded ears, and a far more patient Heart than anyone I've ever had the chance to meet.
However, Humans aren't capable of flight, so many of our Clan suffer from weakness in our wings due to their genetics. It is why we partner with the Lust Group so tightly, and do our utmost to couple with those outside of our blood.
It is because of our long lost period of close ties with Humanity, that perhaps Border Patrol felt we might have slipped through the Border to rekindle our relations with Humans… which is silly, because the adults had been more than happy when our Ancestor died. It was as if a heavy burden had been taken off of their shoulders. The eyes of Border Patrol had been too heavy to bear, so once it was proven that Human Blood no longer ran in our Clan's veins, they finally left us alone.
We were free.
And now, somehow, you have a child with relations to Mankind.
Opera stared at that final sentence with a terrible heaviness. Their own explanation of the past several years would explain the questions pondered and unasked.
Opera hadn't had a half-human child due to some sort of star crossed romance.
They'd been forced into it by those who had returned to Origins, who's reasonings still eluded them.
But somehow, the reason why they had been chosen to carry a half-human child made some level of sense. The enemy was far too certain their plan would succeed…
And it was because their Clan, before the Border between the Human Realm and Netherworld had been sealed, had taken humans as their partners and sullied their blood.
Opera clenched their teeth as they recalled The Lady's warning about Naberius Narnia.
Their son absolutely couldn't cross paths with that man- not if he was willing to permanently harm a child's psyche.
Opera looked up from their mother's writing to meet Soprano's tear-filled gaze, "Oh, Opera…" The woman passed over the notebook littered with their story, before moving to their side and bundling them into her breast.
Opera closed their eyes tiredly, sick and tired of the events that plagued them for years, and held her in turn.
They brushed their Magic against her's, and she enveloped them in her quiet strength.
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A/N: I knew mostly how I wanted to write this chapter, yet it still fought me, lol.
Please leave a review to let me know if you enjoyed the chapter! (Also.. I.. have no ideas for Opera's OG Clan name. OTL)