The late afternoon sun bathed the stone tower in golden light, its walls hidden deep within the dense woods of Gehenna. Inside, Cairstiana moved with quiet purpose, brushing golden strands of hair over her shoulder as she finished cleaning up her painting supplies. The scent of hazelnut soup still lingered faintly in the air from the day before, and a part of her hoped tonight's meal might be something different.
A familiar voice echoed from below, cutting through her thoughts. "Cairstiana! Let down your hair!" Satan's tone carried a mix of authority and indulgence, the way it always did when he wanted something.
"One moment, Father!" she called back, hurrying to gather her hair. Her golden braid shimmered as she tossed it out the window, the long, silky rope falling all the way to the ground below. She felt the usual pull as Satan climbed, his weight tugging against her scalp.
Moments later, he hauled himself through the window, landing gracefully on the wooden floor. Satan's form was as intimidating as ever, his dark aura softened only slightly by the flickering blue flame that danced faintly above his shoulders. He straightened, brushing off imaginary dust before fixing her with a toothy grin.
"I have a big surprise," he announced, his sharp eyes glittering.
Cairstiana raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. "Oh, well… I do too," she said with a hint of challenge in her voice.
Satan chuckled. "Oh, I bet my surprise is bigger," he said smugly.
"I don't think you've got it, Father," Cairstiana teased.
He ignored her and produced a small bundle from his cloak. "I found my parsnips," he declared, holding them up triumphantly. "And you know what that means—I can make hazelnut soup for dinner, your favorite. Surprise!"
Cairstiana gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly unimpressed. "Well, Father, there's actually something I want to tell you."
Satan waved a hand dismissively as he set the bundle down on the table. "Oh, Cairstiana, you know I hate leaving you upset after a fight. Especially when I've done absolutely nothing wrong." He flashed her another grin, the kind that always made her feel like he was patronizing her.
She sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said earlier," she began cautiously.
Satan's grin faltered, his sharp gaze narrowing. "I hope you're not still talking about the stars," he said flatly.
"Well… yes, I'm leading up to that," she admitted.
"Because I thought we had dropped the issue, sweetheart," he interrupted, his voice growing firm.
"I'm just saying," Cairstiana said quickly, before he could cut her off again, "you think I'm not strong enough to handle myself out there—"
"Oh, darling," Satan sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart, "I know you're not strong enough to handle yourself out there."
"But if you just—"
"Cairstiana, we're done talking about this," he snapped.
"Father, please, trust me—"
"Cairstiana!" he said sharply, his tone a warning.
"…know what I'm—"
"Cairstiana," he growled again, this time louder.
Cairstiana threw up her hands in frustration. "Oh, come on!" she exclaimed, exasperated.
Satan loomed over her, his dark shadow falling across the room. "You have no other life, Cairstiana," he said coldly. "You are not leaving this tower. Ever." He let the word hang in the air, heavy with finality, before adding with mock regret, "Oh, great. Now I'm the bad guy."
Cairstiana bit her lip, fighting the sting of his words. She glanced at the painting she had been working on earlier, the floating lights she had dreamed of for so long. A small spark of determination flickered within her. "All I was going to say, Father," she said softly, "is that I know what I want for my birthday now."
Satan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what is that?"
"New paint," she said quickly, her voice bright and hopeful. "That special paint made from the white shells you brought me once. Remember?"
He tilted his head, studying her. "That's a very long trip, Cairstiana," he said slowly. "Almost three days' time."
She shrugged, feigning indifference. "I just thought it was a better idea than… stars."
Satan chuckled, his mood softening slightly. "You sure you'll be all right on your own, my little flower?"
Cairstiana gave him a practiced smile, the kind that masked her true feelings. "I know I'm safe as long as I'm here."
He nodded, satisfied. "Good girl. I'll be back in three days' time. And don't forget—I love you very much."
"I love you more," Cairstiana replied, her tone automatic.
"I love you most," Satan said with a smirk, cupping her cheek briefly before turning to leave.
As he descended the tower, Cairstiana's smile faded. She glanced at the painting of the floating lights, her heart heavy with longing. The paint was just an excuse, a stalling tactic to give her time to prepare. She wasn't entirely sure what she was preparing for, but deep down, she knew she couldn't stay in the tower forever. Something—someone—was out there waiting for her.
And though she couldn't explain it, she felt it like the golden magic in her veins. Someone who wouldn't tell her she was weak. Someone who would see her for who she truly was.
Her hand brushed the glowing strands of her hair. "Someday," she whispered, her voice full of quiet hope, "I'll see those lights. And maybe… I'll find out what I'm meant to be."