Shepha had spent hours answering Bont's endless stream of questions, trying to distract him from his captivity. Though he was the architect of the boy's confinement, Shepha found himself amused by Bont's precociousness and curiosity. The creator's laugh, soft and rare, escaped as Bont frowned thoughtfully, a look that made him appear older than his years.
"Any other questions, Bont?" Shepha asked affectionately.
Bont hesitated for a moment, chewing his lip as he gathered his thoughts. "You said that light is weak against darkness, and darkness is weak against light," he began slowly, his voice thoughtful. "But what if an immortal has a part of both?"
The question took Shepha by surprise. He blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. "Why do you ask that?" he finally said, his tone more serious.
"I'm just interested," Bont replied, his eyes searching Shepha's hidden face. "What then?"
Shepha considered the question carefully. How could the boy have even known to ask that? Unease prickled through him. After all, he had gone to great lengths to hide Bont's past. "It depends on what the immortal chooses," Shepha said finally. "You can't stay on the fence forever. Sooner or later, you have to pick a side."
Bont nodded, but a furrow appeared in his brow. "It must be excruciating to be neither one nor the other," he murmured, his voice tinged with sympathy for this person his imagination—or something else—had conjured up.
Shepha's hand moved instinctively, gently stroking the boy's hair. He gazed at something far beyond, his hidden eyes swirling with galaxies and distant stars. "Yes," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Straddling the line between light and darkness is not an easy path. Which is why…"
…why I took the painful choice away from you, Shepha finished the thought in his mind.
Was there a hint of sorrow in Shepha's voice? Bont couldn't tell. The creator of light never revealed his face, his thoughts and emotions always shrouded behind the veil of the cosmos. But in that moment, as Shepha looked down at him, Bont sensed a deep, unspoken pain. He wondered if the sadness was for the god—or for him.
*—*
Bont hadn't expected to see Rapunzel at all that day, given the competition she had mentioned. So when she entered the ballroom late in the afternoon, he was caught pleasantly off guard. His greeting, however, froze in his lips as he took in the expression on her face.
Rapunzel was cloaked in an air of devastation, her shoulders slumped and her steps heavy. Alarmed, Bont immediately stood and took a few hesitant steps toward her. Before he could say anything, she sprinted into his arms, burying her face in his chest as she began to sob.
Bont wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her as though he could shield her from her sorrows. Her body shook with her tears, and he instinctively braced himself to support her weight. Gently, he stroked her hair, murmuring soft reassurances as her sobs began to subside.
She lifted her face to look at him, her tearful eyes filled with a raw mixture of grief and helplessness. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
Bont wiped away the tears streaking her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be," he said, his heart aching for her. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before guiding her to his makeshift "bed." He sat her down beside him on the blanket, his hand never leaving hers. "Tell me," he urged gently.
Rapunzel took a shuddering breath, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Winchesto tried to escape while the competition was going on." She paused, as though saying the words had made the situation more real. "But they caught him… and they're going to execute him right away."
Bont's exhaled sharply. "I'm so sorry, Rapunzel," he said, sincerely. He placed a comforting arm around her shoulder, squeezing it.
"And the demons are all furious because my mom… she's only going to be imprisoned," Rapunzel said. "Not that I want anything to happen to mom, obviously, but one can see why they are all riled up."
Bont shook his head in commiseration.
"I can see why Malbonte's ideas of equality are so attractive to demons," she added.
Bont felt a storm of conflicting emotions. Demon Winchesto's defiance—whether born of desperation or rebellion—had cost him everything. But did breaking the law of segregation truly warrant such an unforgiving punishment targeted specifically towards him because he was a demon? The imbalance struck Bont in its unfairness, but he couldn't find the right words to articulate all his thoughts. For now, all that mattered was being here for Rapunzel.
As his gaze returned to her, it caught on a tattoo now adorning her skin. Intricate and elegant, the design wove flowers and leaves into a beautiful pattern that started at her shoulders and sloped down her collarbones to her chest. A faint but unmistakable aura of power emanated from it, shimmering like a protective veil.
Bont lifted sparkling eyes to hers. "You won the competition!" he exclaimed.
For the first time that afternoon, a soft smile broke across Rapunzel's face. "Actually, I didn't," she replied.
Bont's brows furrowed. "But the tattoo…?"
"I did reach the Serpent Tempter first," she admitted. "But… I couldn't kill him. I didn't have the heart. And he gave me this tattoo for sparing his life—it protects me from anyone trying to influence me or read my thoughts."
"That's incredible," Bont said, admiringly. "Tell me," he entreated her, eager to hear the story behind it. Part of him hoped that talking about the encounter might ease the heavy burden of the day and distract her from unpleasant thoughts, even if only for a short while.
Rapunzel's expression lightened just a little as she began to recount her tale. Bont listened raptly as Rapunzel told him how she had outstripped the other Unclaimed in the competition, reaching the Serpent Tempter first despite lacking access to special abilities unlike the other two contestants. Her competitors had exhausted themselves by overusing their powers too early, while Rapunzel's steady perseverance paid off in the end.
"What made you spare the serpent?" he asked, curious. "Are you not interested in having the power of persuasion like other immortals?" While he himself had never felt the desire to manipulate or influence another's mind, he could understand why such an ability might appeal to an Unclaimed, who often lacked the innate powers of inborn immortals.
"I just didn't think it was right to kill such a majestic creature simply to gain a selfish advantage. And let's be real," she added with a self-deprecating smile, "I'd probably never be able to influence an immortal even if I had all that power."
"You underestimate your abilities." Bont's smile grew as he regarded her. "But you made the right choice in sparing the creature. I didn't know the Serpent Temper could grant such abilities."
"From something that happened in class later, I don't think it's common knowledge even among immortals."
Bont's heart warmed. He thought of his own distaste for unnecessary harm—how he chose to be vegetarian because he couldn't bear the idea of killing animals for food, let alone for sport or trophies. He also remembered how Rapunzel had once had to cut their conversation short to treat her dragon's injuries. Her compassion ran deeper than most.
"You have such a kind heart," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her cheek. "Do you make a habit of rescuing unfortunate creatures?"
Rapunzel laughed. The sound was light and pure, filling the musty ballroom with a sense of joy. Bont couldn't help reflecting her smile, an unmistakable glow of affection swelling in his chest.
"In a way, me getting the tattoo turned out to be a good thing," Rapunzel said. "Nobody can read my mind and find out about you." She smirked, adding with a teasing lilt, "I bet you would've loved having the tattoo when you were imprisoned, with the angels reading your mind and everything."
Bont blinked, caught off guard by her comment. Yes, he supposed such a tattoo could have prevented the angels from invading his thoughts. But would that have been a good thing? The memory of those invasive sessions evoked unpleasant sensations. He wiggled his shoulders as if to shake off the discomfort.
"Perhaps you could request a batch of the antidote for me the next time you meet the Serpent Tempter," he said, attempting a lighthearted tone.
To his dismay, Rapunzel's expression shifted to sadness, and her shoulders slumped.
"Did I say something wrong?" Bont faltered.
"No, no," Rapunzel said quickly. "It's just that Monica, one of the other competitors…reached the summit soon after me. She killed the serpent before I could stop her."
"I'm sorry," Bont said.
The corners of her lips drooped. "If my mom finds out that I reached the Serpent Tempter first and chose to spare it, she'll think I'm pathetic," she said, equal parts defiance and misery in her voice. "I don't even know why I care so much! She's so different from the person I remember. But…"
"She's your mother," Bont finished.
Rapunzel nodded in response.
Bont's heart ached. From all that he had observed, the relationship between Rapunzel and her mother seemed fraught with tension and unspoken expectations. He longed to comfort her, to offer the solace she so often gave him.
He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Rapunzel didn't resist. She melted into his embrace, her cheek resting against his shoulder. Bont gently rubbed her back, his touch soothing, steady.
"You always do what feels right in your heart," he murmured softly. "And that's something worthy in itself."
Somehow, she ended up on his lap, and their lips met. Kissing Rapunzel was quickly becoming Bont's favorite activity in the world. He loved the softness of her lips; their intertwining tongues releasing a cascade of sensations he had never imagined existed.
As the kiss deepened, Bont's fingers gently skimmed her back, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath his touch. Rapunzel's hands found their way to his shoulders, steadying herself as she pressed closer. Time seemed to melt away until, finally, they pulled back to look at each other, breathless and dazed.
Rapunzel peered up at him through lowered lashes, a soft blush dusting her cheeks. Her shyness was such a striking contrast to the playful boldness she had displayed earlier that the difference astonished him. But some quiet instinct urged him to tread gently. He couldn't help but wonder—and hope—if this new vulnerability was a sign of her growing affection.
Bont traced the intricate tattoo on her skin with his fingers. The delicate pattern of flowers and leaves glowed faintly under his touch. Rapunzel sighed softly, and her eyes fluttered shut. Emboldened, he leaned down and kissed her collarbone, his lips chasing the path his fingers had traced. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and the soft, breathy sounds she made sent a heady rush through him. Her aura enveloped him—intense and alluring, drawing him closer. Her hands drifted to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair, setting sparks coursing through his body. When she tugged his face back up to hers, pressing her lips to his in a fervent kiss, he surrendered completely to the moment.
For a while, they lost themselves in each other, their kisses deepening as their touches became more confident, more exploratory. With a gentle tug, she drew him down with her onto the blanket, their bodies aligning naturally. Sweet caresses turned into playful teasing, soft laughter mingling with languid sighs. They surrendered to the magnetic pull between them, their affection flowing freely and unrestrained, each moment weaving an unspoken melody stronger than words could ever express.
When they finally drew apart, Rapunzel's cheeks were flushed with color, her eyes half-lidded, and her lips, swollen from his kisses, slightly parted. Bont gazed at her, utterly mesmerized by the vision before him.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, voice thick with awe.
She smiled sweetly, radiant and unguarded. It was the kind of smile that turned his heart over, the kind that made him vow to hold this moment in his memory forever.
*—*
Rapunzel came to visit the following day, carrying a plate of mixed vegetables and rice. Bont greeted her with a grateful smile.
"You came."
"And I'm not empty-handed. Here, eat something." She placed the plate in front of him.
Bont's smile widened as he eagerly reached for the food. "You take such good care of me…" He paused, looking sheepish as he realized how hungrily he had dived in. "Sorry. I'm starving."
"Eat," Rapunzel said with a faint smile, settling beside him.
Once he had finished, she began recounting everything that had happened since her last visit, culminating in Winchesto's execution. She looked sad, defeated, but there were no new tears.
"This is terrible! Why did Shepha allow it?" Bont sat back, a frown creasing his brow. After a pause, he sighed, and said, "I think I know why."
"Why?"
"Shepha doesn't interfere. He wants his children to learn from their own mistakes," Bont explained, his voice taking on the measured tone of someone reciting a well-worn lesson. "The child falls, hurts his knees, but then he learns to be more careful. Pain, mistakes, and frustration are the best teachers."
Rapunzel frowned. "I disagree. Sometimes, pain and frustration lead to bigger mistakes."
"You think like an angel," Bont said, a small, approving smile touching his lips. "And you're right. But pain has its purpose.'He who sheds tears clearly, laughs sincerely'," he quoted an adage from his childhood lessons. "The problem is that demons are the ones who should be teaching this—not the angels. But they've started to switch places, like the poles of the earth." His expression clouded. "And this leads to cataclysms."
"So, you think things are out of balance because of this…switching?" Rapunzel asked thoughtfully.
Bont nodded. "Exactly. When roles change, chaos follows. And in this chaos, everyone suffers."
"Oh, Harmony again," she said discontentedly.
They fell silent for a while, Rapunzel's eyes growing distant, as though she were seeing something beyond the walls of the room. Her expression shifted—her eyes widened, her breaths came in gasps, and her shoulders began to tremble. It was as though the weight of her thoughts had suddenly become unbearable, and had crashed down on her.
"Rapunzel?" Bont said, his voice tight with concern as he leaned toward her. She didn't respond; her body was rigid, as though caught in an invisible storm only she could feel.
Bont's heart clenched with fear. Without hesitation, he pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame. "I'm here," he murmured softly, trying to keep his voice steady despite the anxiety clawing at him. His hand smoothed over her hair, a small effort to anchor her in the present.
Her breathing gradually slowed to their normal pace, the tension in her body ebbing away as she leaned into him. Finally, she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze with a vulnerability he hadn't seen before.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low with concern.
Rapunzel hesitated, her fingers clutching his shirt. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just…Winchesto's execution keeps replaying in my mind."
Bont's heart ached in sympathy. He had seen the evidence of her strength and determination; now, he was seeing the weight she carried inside. He felt an almost overwhelming desire to shield her from all her problems. He tightened his hold on her, offering what comfort he could.
"Winchesto gave me something before he died," Rapunzel said after a pause.
She took out a ring and handed it to him. Bont reached out, but as his fingers neared the metal, he pulled back instinctively. He could feel a dark unpleasant energy emanating from the ring.
"Something's wrong with it," he murmured.
"Really? Looks like a regular ring to me." Rapunzel turned it over in her hand, examining the intricate design. Then, she slid it onto her finger.
Almost instantly, she recoiled, yanking the ring off with a grimace. "What the—?" The ring slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor. It rolled in a tight circle before tipping onto its side and stopping.
Bont picked it up cautiously. "Hmm…look, there's something here," he said, noticing a faint crack in the design.
Rapunzel took the ring back and struck it against the floor. The metal gave way after a few attempts, and its hidden contents spilled out—a small clump of hair, knotted together in the shape of a heart, one set of strands dark and the other light. Rapunzel clenched the bundle in her fist, her face growing pale.
Bont's breath caught. "This is…"
"This has got to be Winchesto's and my mom's hair," Rapunzel said with dawning horror.
Bont exhaled sharply. "The Curse of Attraction," he whispered. "Someone placed this in Winchesto's ring. There's probably a similar charm hidden in something of your mother's."
Rapunzel stared at the bundle and shuddered. "It's just like those old curses on Earth. I never believed in them."
"Where do you think they learned about it on Earth?" Bont said. "These curses have been around for eons. The desire to be together must've overwhelmed Winchesto and your mother; it clouded their minds."
"So, it is true," Rapunzel said, her voice growing in anger with each word. "Someone messed with their feelings."
Bont nodded sadly, his earlier doubts vanishing in the face of the evidence.
Rapunzel sat quietly for a moment, her gaze fixed on the knotted strands of hair in her hand. "I thought Heaven was supposed to be peaceful," she said at last, "but it's no different from Earth—meaningless wars, cynical angels, selfish demons." Her voice grew impassioned as she continued, "I don't want to be another cog in the machine, manipulating people and destroying everything in my path. I want to do the right thing. I want to be a good person."
Before he could stop himself, Bont blurted, "Do you think Shepha is a good person?"
Rapunzel's eyes widened and her mouth opened as if to answer, then snapped shut. She clearly hadn't expected such a question from him, and seemed at a loss for words. Bont regretted his question the moment it left his mouth. He watched as her expression shifted from shock to uncertainty.
Realizing he had put her on the spot, he said, "Don't answer that. I'll find the answer on my own. Someday…"
"Bont…" she began after a moment of silence.
"Yes?"
"What are you planning to do? They might find you."
"The moment I leave the school, Shepha will track my energy," he admitted. "The Academy is protected by an energy dome, so it's harder for Him to sense me here."
After another moment in silence, Rapunzel's expression cleared. "I know what to do."
"You do?"
"Yes. I know where to find an amulet of concealment," she said. "With it, your energy will be hidden, and you'll be able to escape safely."
"That's wonderful," Bont said, his voice warm with gratitude. Yet, sadness tempered his joy. If the amulet worked, it would mean parting from Rapunzel.
"Do you have any idea where you'll go?" she asked.
Bont shared his plans—the remote islands and hidden cliffs he had read about, places where he might find refuge.
Rapunzel's gaze grew wistful. "Maybe I'll come with you," she said quietly.
Bont's heart leapt with joy, but he quickly tamped it down. How could he ask her to give up everything for him? He sensed that her offer was largely driven by the turmoil she was experiencing over her mother and Winchesto.
"You'd lose so much, Rapunzel," he said gently, though part of him selfishly wished she'd insist. "You'll become a fugitive like me, and stay an Unclaimed forever."
Rapunzel's shoulders drooped. Instead of responding, she rested her head in the crook of his neck. Bont pressed his lips to her hair and stroked her back and wings, his touch tender and reassuring.
"What time is it?" she murmured after a while, pulling back reluctantly. "I think I'm supposed to have a lesson now." She stood and brushed off her clothes. "I have to go."
"Good luck," Bont said with a faint smile. "I'll be here if you need me."
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on him.
"Run. You'll be late," he urged gently.
Rapunzel hesitated again by the door, her gaze staying on him as though she wanted to say something more. Instead, she smiled a soft goodbye, then turned and disappeared down the corridor.
Bont watched the doorway long after she had gone, replaying their last conversation. He wanted nothing more than to share his newfound freedom with her, to explore the world together. Yet the idea of her sacrificing her future, her dreams, for his sake filled him with guilt.
He leaned back against the wall and exhaled a long, weary breath. Rapunzel had become his anchor, a light that guided him when everything seemed uncertain. But, he needed to face the consequences of his decisions without further entangling Rapunzel in his concerns. He would have to leave her behind.
The realization sank into his heart like a heavy millstone, and the oppressive feeling spread through his soul as he struggled to imagine a life devoid of Rapunzel.
*—*
The click of the ballroom door opening startled Bont, pulling him from his thoughts. By the unfamiliar energy signature, he instantly knew that it wasn't Rapunzel. Alarmed, he stood up, his wings flaring slightly as he prepared to confront the intruder.
The figure who stepped inside was angel Fencio. Bont recognized him from a handful of encounters over the years, but those meetings had been brief and impersonal. This visit, however, felt different.
"Hello, Bont," Fencio said in a measured tone. His expression was calm, but there was a rigid tension in his shoulders, the kind that set warning bells ringing in Bont's mind.
"What are you doing here?" Bont asked cautiously, his gaze flicking to the staff in Fencio's hand.
Fencio hesitated. "I'm sorry, Bont," he said, heavily, "But, I have to do this."
Before Bont could react, Fencio raised his staff. A searing beam of light energy shot toward him. Bont's last thought before the darkness claimed him was of Rapunzel's smile—then nothing.
*—*
Bont awoke screaming, his voice raw and ragged. He was in excruciating pain. His head felt as though it were engulfed in flames as something scorching and wet dripped down his face. Though his eyes were open, all he could see was a chaotic swirl of flames and darkness. A cacophony of shouts and indistinct noises filled the air around him, each sound a jagged fragment of glass slicing through his skull.
In some distant, shadowy corner of his mind, he realized he was bound to something—his arms pinned painfully behind his back. His skull throbbed and burned as though it were being split apart. A hand gripped him tightly, and through the haze, he heard someone shouting his name. Rapunzel. Her voice cut through the maelstrom, desperate and insistent. But he couldn't respond—couldn't form words—couldn't… Somebody began to intone dark, incomprehensible words, their twisted cadence reverberating like a gong in his mind.
Then, something black and viscous poured into him in an endless stream. Bont convulsed, rising into the air as the substance invaded every corner of his soul. Its essence felt antithetical to his very being, yet instead of obliterating him, it dissolved into him, merging, consuming, and reshaping until the boundaries of his identity blurred.
Bont registered Rapunzel's voice, raw with desperation. Was she fighting to reach him? Or was she powerless, forced to watch as he was unmade and remade before her eyes? A raging inferno sizzled against the ice cold glaciers of the permafrost. There was no beginning, no end—only this indescribable fusion. The agony—the ecstasy—defied comprehension.
Pain seared across his back as though primordial fire irons were branding strange symbols into his very being.
Wave after wave of memories came alive in his consciousness, like someone lighting a thousand candles in the darkest recesses of his mind. Each flicker illuminated fragments of a past he had forgotten—or perhaps never fully understood:…Thank you Shepha for my mother… Bont is good… He must come with us… Pinky promise?… Did I kill my parents?… So be it… she won't be quiet… endure your creator's punishment, my boy…
The memories coalesced into a deafening silence, vast and profound.
Malbonte opened his eyes.
The sights and sounds of battle crashed over him like a tsunami. The air was thick with chaos: angels and demons locked in furious combat, flames roaring uncontrollably, and the acrid stench of blood and death saturating the battlefield. Hovering above it all, Malbonte surveyed the destruction with a calm, calculating gaze. For a moment, he simply existed in the maelstrom, adjusting to this new reality, his new self. He was free at last.
With a powerful flap of his wings, he descended to the ground in an earth-shaking crash. The impact sent tremors rippling through the battlefield, silencing the clamor as every pair of eyes turned to him. His presence was an overwhelming force, it commanded attention.
He smiled, triumphant, basking in the moment. This clarity, this power—it was exhilarating.
"This is just the beginning," he declared, his voice resonant with authority. Yet, deep in the recesses of his mind, two opposing names clashed: Mal, Bont. He was both, and he was neither.
One by one, demons began to kneel before him, their loyalty swift and absolute. Even some of the angels dropped to one knee. Malbonte stood motionless amidst the growing throng of followers, radiating an overweening confidence that left no room for doubt or questions.
A scream pierced the silence.
"I will kill you!"
A spear hurtled through the air and struck Malbonte squarely in the shoulder, its force embedding it deep into his flesh. The shock of the impact made him stagger, but not for long. Surprised, he turned slowly to locate the source of the attack.
Standing defiantly amidst the carnage was Rebecca, her chest heaving, her expression twisted in loathing. Her blazing eyes locked on his unflinchingly. And next to her, stood Rapunzel, blood dripping from a sword in her hand.
Rebecca's hatred amused Malbonte, but it was Rapunzel's expression that rivetted his attention. Anguish and fury twisted her features, but in her eyes, he saw something more: betrayal.
Malbonte grasped the hilt of the spear, his grip firm, and yanked it free with a single sharp motion. Blood gushed from the wound, but he hardly noticed. The torn flesh began knitting itself back together almost instantly, the pain nothing more than a dull throb. He grinned, the indifference in his expression sending a palpable chill through the spectators.
Without a word, Malbonte spread his wings and launched himself into the sky, ascending into the clouds with effortless grace. Drawn by the sheer gravity of his presence, immortals surged after him with the light of rebellion in their eyes. Their departing forms sent gigantic waves of shadows rippling over the battlefield below, as though foretelling the turbulent times ahead.
*—*