I've been super busy between work, attending fun concerts, and just living life the way I do. I spent as much time as I could on this chapter. It is a but of a slow read, but every story has slow, uneventful chapters. Thanks for waiting!
- ML
P.S. Cell cough was inspired by my (unfortunately) common allergy symptom that is, you guessed it, a lot of coughing! In fact, I've currently been awake all damn night! The abrupt drop in humidity in late September crashed my sinuses by October, and I have not truly known peace in almost three weeks. I'm in agony. Can barely taste or smell a damn thing. No it is not COVID. h e L p
EDIT: Forgot chapter title
EDIT 07 November 2024: Some number errors. In other news, wake me up when 2028 begins.
EDIT 24 November 2024: spelling and grammar
Chapter Thirteen: March, Part Three
March 11, X792, 07:32 a.m.
The mines were a rather easy place to work and explore nowadays. The crystal caves smelled damp and mossy, especially early in the morning. It was heavenly to demons who loved the moisture. But it was a difficult adjustment for creatures like Kyôka. The areas where coal should have been were, unfortunately, just full of rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and other rocks that strangely grew together. Kyôka enjoyed her long days in the crystal caves despite the blanket of sweat that haunted her dreams. What should have been her punishment soon became a peaceful vacation away from the rotting brains of her fellow inmates.
At the beginning of her second day, Kyôka went to the southern side of the prison, where an elevator to the underground caves was kept. Escorted by Greg, the two descended well over 30 feet below the prison's boiler room, where the only light available came from lacrima placed in the walls for guidance. Due to the severity of the assault, Kyôka had to wear cuffs on her wrists and ankles, and a humanoid muzzle in case she might bite somebody. Kyôka did bite, not the painful and bloody kind unless Sayla wanted it that way, wink.
After that, the buxomly demon set off down one of five cave tunnels to collect possible treasures. As Jackal once stated in an early entry, bodily remains and random junk typically emerged from the rock and soil. The bird demon also collected crystals, beautiful rocks, and the common lumps of coal. She was required to gather eighty pounds of coal and thirty pounds of valuable crystals by the end of the day. That normally took a good 14 hours of searching with a pickaxe, so she certainly had her work cut out for her.
Today, Kyôka found a different type of crystal.
She lifted her pickaxe to the wall she had worked at for several minutes. She stabbed the wall in repetitive sets of five. After the third set, she took a moment to catch her breath. Even though her body was quite obviously changing, she still needed to recharge, sweat, and sleep soundly like a baby. She almost envied Jackal, who almost never slept anymore and required even less food.
After about two minutes of resting, Kyôka swung the pickaxe once more. More of the wall gave out, crumbling in dust and tumbling rocks. No coal, just boring little rocks. Kyôka barely flinched when something fell on one of her taloned feet. The bird demon looked down, noticing a small box. It was a perfect black cube, a little too perfect for a prison mine.
She picked the box up, light in her palm. No wonder the landing on her foot did not hurt. She began to pry it open. To her surprise, the cube opened up much like a ring box. Within the box, a pair of little earrings were placed in a little cushion. Kyôka never would have guessed, as nothing shook inside the box when she handled it. She pinched one of the studded earrings, taking it out to inspect.
She looked into a crimson red eye. The thin black pupil was surrounded by two fine black marks. The other stud was identical. Kyôka touched her ear, or at least what they had become after her death. Her pointed ears were gone, replaced by the fluffy ears that used to be a simple hairstyle. There was no way she could wear earrings properly without earlobes.
"Seven-five, what are you doing down there?" Greg called from up the tunnel. She had excellent hearing compared to the other guards. Of course she heard Kyôka stop working for more than two minutes.
Kyôka stuffed the earrings into her mouth, tossing the box over her shoulder. She returned to axing the wall. Luckily, coal crumbled freely to her feet as Greg came down the tunnel. The guard gave Kyôka a questioning look. The buxom bird woman swallowed, coughing slightly from the little studs scratching her throat.
"G-Greg, hello—" Kyôka coughed aggressively then, and the female guard backed away several feet, placing her helmet back on. Kyôka raised the hand holding her axe as she coughed into her other elbow pit. She looked at her elbow pit, noticing a little bit of blood. Her eyes widened in shock. She felt another coughing fit tickling the back of her throat. It was difficult to hold in, so it came out anyway. Kyôka nearly threw up coughing so hard, taking ragged breaths.
Greg immediately called to someone outside the tunnel. Kyôka could barely comprehend her surroundings through the coughing fits shaking her to her core. N-not again...
March 11, X792, 3:12 p.m.
Does it linger on your tongue?
That tremor, a dance
Your soles to your crown
Does it taste like freedom?
Like touching a goddess
Lingers on my finger tips
As your lips on mine
Virginity, virginity
My heart bleeds a rapid fire
Virginity, virginity
Vapors of burning desire
Sinking in my lungs
Unspoken string not sung
You open up to me
I fear I'm still not free
Tangles strings of souls
Just three to make us whole
Scared of falling backwards
It's also you I'm after
Virginity, virginity
Come to me, my tangled arteries
Virginity, virginity
Vapors of burning desire
(the following was written on the same page)
Jackal. Kyôka coughed all the way to the infirmary unit. I swear, it's one thing after another. No idea when Minerva is coming back. Counseling sucking fucks. ("this morning" scribbled out) I remember going to the infirmary at like noon. I don't think I shut up for three hours. On and on I talked.
Cried.
God, I hate crying. I love crying.
Broke another chair. I could've stabbed that doctor. But I didn't. We just chatted?
Earthland. Tartaros. Fairy Tail. Dying. Losing. Winning. Sex. Fear.
Someone used to detail our lives in my books. Whoever you are, fuck you. I miss you, stupid girl. I don't even know who you are. "Angelic." Was it a kid or an old woman? Idk
Apparently "bisexual" is better than "half straight half gay." So sucking pussy AND kissing men is normal? Who the fuck said it wasn't? Why does it need a new name? I'm not an animal!
Tempesta. Tempeh. T. What do I call him so I don't have to write his full name? Socks and t-shirt. Sock? Sox? Soxoxoxoxoso
Lamy? Bunny? Tempeh and Bun. Kyôka can be KK and Sayla ("horny" is scribbled out) Sayla is Worm, short for bookworm. Minerva is just Minerva.
I wonder what's for lunch!
March 11, X792, 3:00 p.m. - ?
Yet another fight broke out and got separated quicker than the tension that boiled over. The time was 2:55 p.m. and Tempesta intended to visit that doctor. Jackal was still holding that human hostage (metaphorically speaking). Nearly three hours had passed by the time Jackal finally descended from the second floor. Tempesta reached out to get his attention.
He immediately noticed Jackal's thin pupil and unfocused expression, then decided against touching or speaking to the blonde. The snow-haired demon quietly watched his boyfriend knock his shoulder against Sayla's. The hornless demon nearly fell to the floor.
"Hey, Jackal!" she scolded him. But Jackal ignored her, or he simply did not see a person near him. Tempesta locked eye with the agitated Sayla.
"He just got out of the doctor's office. Give him time," Tempesta said.
Tempesta's calm expression faltered as the white of her eyes slowly turned pink from tears forming. He bit his lower lip, unsure of what to do. Sayla crying was almost unheard of.
"How many more months will it be like this? Ten? Thirty? Forever?" she questioned. Tempesta's eyes darted toward the demon unit halls, silently praying Kyôka would miraculously sweep Sayla away. Sayla sighed in defeat. "I'm sorry. I... I feel very alone right now," she murmured.
"I-I'm sorry too," Tempesta forced out in response. "But it is 2:58, and I really need to meet the doctor. We can talk more later."
"Yes, of course," the hornless female frowned, her face downcast. Tempesta briskly walked away. His movements felt forced, like walking with his arms in the stride of left foot with left foot in, right foot and left arm out. People crying to him was very uncomfortable. He felt like a major asshole ditching Sayla, but time with this doctor was probably limited at this hour.
Tempesta jogged up the stairs to the infirmary unit. He still recalled how identical it was to the other wings. The cells were all turned into separate rooms for different purposes, or so he had heard. Tempesta was immediately stopped at the double doors by two armed guards. He had never seen firearms in the prison before. It made sense; the sick, weak, and injured had to be protected. Since when did the weak and vulnerable matter?
"I'm here to see Yuichi Misono... sensei," he said hesitantly, hoping an honorific would seem more official.
"Do you have permission?" one guard on the left asked.
"Uh, I'm not sure," Tempesta replied. He tensed up when the two guards moved toward him. He took a step back. Adrenaline rushed over for a split second. He might have to run if they planned to force him away.
However, they simply stepped aside. The double doors opened inwardly, leading into the long hall of the aforementioned renovated cells. Tempesta looked at the door guards in confusion.
"Misono-sensei will see you in the third room on the right," the guard on the right said.
"Uh, yes. Thank you," Tempesta bowed to the guards. He cursed himself for that ridiculous action, but pressed onward.
Once he stepped past the double doors, they shut back, locking instantly. The click of the locks echoed through the quiet hallway. The entire unit smelled like paper and rubbing alcohol. Every door was shut, protected by an identification card swipe. Surprisingly (maybe not), he did not sense a hint of magic or curse from those small devices. None of the prisoners had magic or very much willpower to test the guards, so what was the use in magic protecting the individual infirmary rooms?
The snow-haired demon counted to the third door on the right side of the hallway. He nearly jumped at the sight of the young, spectacled human sitting in an armchair inside said room. He was writing something in a rather large notebook. His dark brown eyes were deep in focus. He wore his usual casual-formal attire of a clean grey button-down, black jeans, securely tied black boots, and a white lab coat.
"You must be Tempesta. Sit," he greeted the demon without looking up. The snow haired-demon quietly walked in, relaxing his clenched jaw. He had not noticed how tense his body was until then. Misono-sensei stood up to shut the door, then returned to his chair. Tempesta sat on the two-person couch in one corner of the room.
"Your name is Yuichi Misono-sensei, right?" Tempesta asked.
"Please, just call me Yuichi," the doctor smiled brightly. Tempesta resisted the urge to recoil. His smile was too bright and cheerful for such a dreary place. "What brings you to my office, Tempesta?"
"Is it not your job to figure that out?" the snow-haired demon asked. He knew next to nothing about the operations of a counselor. A small part of him regretted asking a rather rude question.
"It is my job to assist you, yes, but I cannot figure out your purpose for choosing to see me. That is unique to each individual who steps into this office," Yuichi replied.
"Understandable," Tempesta nodded in response. Yuichi turned his notebook to an empty page, clicking his pen. Tempesta watched his movements carefully. Any moment, the doctor could decide to attack him for any reason. He had to be ready.
"How are you feeling?" Yuichi asked. He looked calmer than expected at Tempesta's intense gaze. The snow-haired male averted his eyes as a sudden rush of self-consciousness took over him.
How I'm feeling? What am I supposed to say to not alarm this man?
"I don't know," he murmured. Safest choice: indecisiveness.
"Have you ever been to a counselor or therapist before?"
"No."
"That's alright, there is a first for everything. I am glad you chose to make this step today," the doctor smiled.
I think I understand that face that begs to be punched or pinched, Tempesta mused. Yuichi's straight, dark brown hair was neatly combed to one side and slicked down with some kind of gel. His brows were plucked to perfection. His circular spectacles matched his sharp, intuitive brown eyes. His teeth were very clean and nearly white, more so than even Kyôka's. She took dental hygiene a little more seriously than most, especially considering the filth some inmates willingly lived in. But unlike Kyôka, this doctor most likely goes to a dentist and flosses religiously.
"Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?" the doctor asked. Tempesta returned his attention to the doctor, raising his eyebrows. That self-conscious feeling easily returned with another simple question.
"About me? I've died so many times, I'm still learning who I am," Tempesta replied. Was that a safe answer?
At least according to Jackal, it was true that he used to play a little bit of bass and guitar. Tempesta also wrote sometimes when he remembered how his poetry looked. But in the final months of his life, he lost sight of those hobbies. For a long while, nothing mattered except killing off the human race and Zeref, then living in a world of only demons. It was not his dream, but he followed it for years.
In the present, he kept a wooden guitar hidden. Ever since Christmas time came and went (a few string instruments were specifically brought in by human requests), he practiced what he could remember. The boiler room below the prison absorbed quite a bit of sound, but Jackal still tracked his boyfriend's whereabouts and probably overheard his awful strumming.
"Reincarnation? I don't get those types of patients often," the doctor commented. "Could you describe anything you might remember about yourself?"
"I used to write," Tempesta replied. He rested his ankle on his other leg, avoiding the human's brown eyes. "I... think I'm still me, after everything that happened. I've never stopped being me. I still..." He held his breath. No, don't mention love. He might react poorly... Tempesta watched as Yuichi wrote a couple of notes.
"What do you write about?" Yuichi asked, tilting his head to the side. Tempesta shook his head of his thoughts, sitting up straight.
"Poetry, mostly. I journal with my guil- my friends." Shit. Tempesta could instantly tell by the clicking of Yuichi's pen that the doctor caught onto his small slip. Was he thinking of how to ease information out of him about his old guild? His love interests? His weak points?!
"That's nice, I enjoy poetic writing myself," the spectacled doctor replied. "Have you ever written songs?"
"I don't sing well, so not really."
"I think I disagree," the doctor said. Tempesta looked at him puzzled. Yuichi smiled knowingly. "One of my duties as a doctor is making hourly rounds by each cell in the night, ensuring no inmates are engaging in suspicious behavior," he continued.
"But not every night," he added quickly when Tempesta was about to speak up in disagreement. The snow-haired demon thought about his words, then it dawned on him.
A few times while the demon showered at night, he found himself humming a tune. It was a somber romantic piece he thought of sometimes. He didn't really know where it came from. Yuichi most likely heard him sing. The realization made him flustered.
"That was... I do not sing for anyone," he muttered. Yuichi chuckled lightly.
"You have a wonderful voice, there is nothing to be embarrassed about here," the doctor assured him. Tempesta avoided the human's gaze regardless of his words. "If you prefer, we can talk about something different. What else can you tell me about yourself?"
"There is something I want to figure out... my, um, relationship with someone," the male demon answered quietly.
"Jackal and Lamy, right?"
Tempesta looked at the doctor in shock. Then he relaxed, remembering Jackal had come into this room not long ago. Besides, many people knew of their unique dynamic.
"Yes, them. I," the snow-haired demon trailed off, lowering his gaze. "What I feel for Lamy is... not the same as Jackal. She's lovely, very mature, and at peace, but... she is also different."
He glanced at Yuichi for a response, unsure of his next move. The doctor wrote on his page again. Tempesta noticed an analog clock on the wall above Yuichi's head. 3:19 p.m. Time truly dragged in places like this.
"Do you love Lamy?" Yuichi asked suddenly, jolting Tempesta's attention back to the doctor once again. Did he love Lamy? Of course he loved her! Why else would he spend so much time with her? Learning about her? Opening up to her? Dreaming?
"I do," he answered calmly on the outside. "She is... very dear to me. She is a calming presence. I can... talk about anything. I admire the woman she has grown into."
"I think it is truly marvelous how love always prevails," the doctor smiled warmly. I couldn't agree more... "What else do you feel about Lamy?"
"I think she loves Jackal more, always has, but I don't know if I accept that anymore," Tempesta confessed. He lowered his gaze to the ground, feeling shameful. More writing in that notebook followed. Why did this human have to document things? Will he report something suspicious? "Do you share these notes with anyone?" Tempesta asked cautiously.
"Your personal information is safe with me. It would go against my moral code to share them," Yuichi replied.
"So I can tell you anything, and it will not get back to anyone," Tempesta affirmed. The doctor nodded in agreement. I hope I do not regret this.
"I am envious of them, Jackal and Lamy. They've had sexual intercourse and still fool around, but all I am bold enough to do is bear witness. I have desires and past experiences, but I find myself hesitating, sitting back. I want to be a part of it, but I always hesitate."
The words spilled out like vomit. He wanted to stop speaking such nonsense; he silently wished for Yuichi to cut him off, but the doctor listened quietly. And so, he continued.
"I was so excited when she felt comfortable letting me touch her, as I was quite nervous to ask. I want Jackal to want me the way I want him, but I don't... I don't feel as important to him as Lamy," he sighed somberly. "I've only kissed Jackal. We sleep together occasionally. No, not that kind of sleeping."
"That's alright, I would not judge you either way," Yuichi replied.
All the while, Yuichi jotted down several notes. Tempesta knew he was listening each time that pen scribbled the page. The doctor even turned to the back of that page. Tempesta could only hope Yuichi was truthful about confidentiality.
"I am so envious about their sexual freedom with each other, in private of course," Tempesta said again. "I want that for myself as well." He rubbed his dry eyes. He looked to the doctor, contuing. "I used to get what I want from whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted. But here? I'm so shut off from that old greed of mine. This place, it changes us. I'm soft and timid. It's pathetic!" he grunted.
"Thank you for sharing this with me, Tempesta," the doctor said after a pregnant pause. The snow-haired demon rested his chin on his palm, looking at the floor. "You seem to hold in your emotions quite often, I cannot imagine how difficult that must be, feeling so out of place. Do they know how you feel?"
"No, not quite," the snow haired male frowned.
"Does it hurt to suppress these thoughts?"
"I'm not hurting." I'm not hurting! I'm just... I dunno.
"Perhaps not," Yuuchi shrugged in response. "I think this is a good topic of discussion with them. How often do you three talk about your place in this relationship?"
"Lamy and I used to talk about it from time to time. It was always about Jackal, about getting through each day without problems, the motions."
"You and Lamy seem to center all of this energy on Jackal. It is not a bad thing to want some of that attention for yourself," Yuichi said.
"Perhaps not..." He slumped back in the couch, lost for words to add.
"You and Lamy can have just as much love as you do for Jackal," Yuichi said.
"I know, but without sex, it is not enough for me," Tempesta murmured. He saw how much Lamy and Jackal enjoyed exploring each other's bodies. They knew what turned the other on, what was off limits, everything; Tempesta wanted and needed that too.
"You must have a conversation about that with them; tell them exactly how you feel."
"I-I don't know if I have the right words."
"You do have the right words. You just shared them with me," the doctor smiled whimsically. Tempesta glared. The damn human had a point. "If you want your needs met, you have to express them," Yuichi added.
"You make it sound so easy."
"I know it's not easy to express one's needs. How about poetry? I know you have used your creative writing to convey your thoughts."
"How do you know that?" Tempesta inquired.
"Another part of my job as a doctor here is observing inmates. I learn about their history, quirks and how they interact at different hours of the day. Of all the creatures you interact with, you write poetically to Jackal the most. This time, try that for Lamy," the doctor concluded. Tempesta's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He sat up attentively.
He listened to that? My confession to Jackal?! Damn human... Wait, he wasn't here for that, was he?
"You could make more time for just you and Lamy to learn about her, how you two bond outside of Jackal," the doctor said.
"I'm tired of this topic," the snow-haired demon grumbled. I can't take this embarrassment at myself right now... Yuichi flipped to an empty page in his notebook.
"Well done! You told me exactly what you feel," Yuichi smiled softly. Tempesta glared at him again. Is this patronization or praise?
"Describe your relationship with your other friends. Do you want to go with one name at a time?"
"Sure, but enough about Jackal and Lamy."
"Alright, let's start with Minerva."
Tempesta froze up at her name. Minerva was still not back from wherever she went. For all he knew, she was not coming back at all. If she did, there was no telling what her condition might be. He barely knew Minerva the human, much less Etherius Minerva. And this current "ex-human" Minerva was even more of a stranger after everything she went through. To say this was a difficult topic was an understatement.
"We aren't close," he answered blankly. Safe choice. "Next person."
"Oh," Yuichi's eyebrows raised in surprise. Tempesta decided to dismiss the doctor's reaction. "Tell me about Kyôka."
Ah, that one is not so obvious anymore, but she was at the top of the food chain just under Mard Geer. She fought against a powerful human foe and lost, just like the rest of us. Now everything down to the size of her forehead is different. Her eyes, her arms—wait, this is about relationships, not that physical nonsense.
"We are equals," Tempesta began. "I once looked up to her as my second highest authority. She called the shots when it came to life before prison. But now she's just Kyôka."
"What caused this leadership dynamic to change?" Yuichi asked. "Based on my sources, I understand she was once Goddess of the Slave Planet, Lady Kyôka."
All Tempesta could do was stare at the human doctor, slightly gaping. Now that he thought about it, not a single person questioned Kyôka's place in the group. No one spoke so freely of the past unless it was absolutely relevant. There were no more authorities, no scapegoats, no hierarchies. They were all equally placed at the bottom of the barrel. And yet somehow, this Underworld doctor knew about the old Tartaros.
"... We're just friends. That is an old life," the snow-haired demon answered carefully. The doctor wrote his usual bit of notes. Yuichi crossed one leg over the other, propping his notebook up on his knee.
"Yes, of course. Death has a strange way of changing those of us given a second chance at life," he said. Tempesta narrowed his eyes. A second chance at life, huh?
"I'll go ahead and describe my relationship with Sayla. We're good friends too, but not too close. Sayla worships Kyôka and the rest of us are just there," he shrugged. Yeah, we'll go back to that "source" of his another time.
"How do you feel about your relationships now, compared to before?" Yuichi asked.
"I feel... a little more secure. Um, appreciated," he replied sheepishly. In truth, he was somewhat okay with the changes they've gone through: physical, psychological, and emotional. No one even noticed the differences at first. Different, yet the same.
"That's a kind smile, Tempesta," Yuichi spoke up. Tempesta looked up, his left eye wide in surprise. He chuckled a little, scratching the back of his head.
"As long as Tartaros exists, I guess I feel a little bit of contentment," the snow-haired demon confessed. "I like my people. I don't mind that time is slow and kind of irrelevant. I've had so much more time..."
"Time for what?" Yuichi asked softly.
"Time to learn about myself. I'm finally allowed to be alive. It's not always fun. Sometimes I'm worried for the others, but... I finally have time to witness the new man I want to be."
"And what can also help that development is having important conversations with the right people, like your partners," the doctor reminded him. Tempesta took a deep breath, sighing heavily. I tried.
"I suppose that cannot be dodged."
"Vive les Tartares," Yuichi said. The snow-haired demon gave him a questioning look. Yuichi stood up, finally closing his notebook.
"Is that Kanaji?" Tempesta asked.
"What? No, I asked if you would like to tell me anything else," Yuichi replied, giving an equally puzzled look. Tempesta shook his head. I must have heard him wrong. "I am thankful that you chose to visit, Tempesta. But I just remembered I have another appointment at 4:30."
Tempesta looked up at the analog clock behind Yuichi. 3:46 p.m. already. Oh, of course. Some still need to track time.
"Well, since we have time, I want to know about this "source" of old records," Tempesra suggested. Yuichi smiled. He had the look of a man who knew too much. Tempesta gave no reaction, as usual.
Instead, Yuichi flipped to the back cover of his book. He removed a small black card, then handed it to the male demon. The card was blank on one side, and the other side contained what looked like a circle for an incantation.
"What is this?" Tempesta asked.
"My source of information," the doctor replied. "Curse and magic are blocked inside these walls, and alchemy is the key in and out of this property."
"Why? Why would you give me this? I could use it to escape," the male demon challenged Yuichi, smirking slightly.
"You cannot use alchemy, that much is certain. But someone else in your close circle can. They just don't know it yet."
"So it's not magic or curse, but an entirely different power," Tempesta mused.
"If you have the power to cast spells to block magic and curse, then one can also change the very chemistry of a being to further change their power intake."
Tempesta gave Yuichi a hard look. The doctor looked absolutely sure of everything he said, as vague as it was.
"Does this alchemy have the power to unblock whatever has weakened our curse?"
"Yes. Once you find your alchemist, you will in turn find your second chance at life."
As Tempesta left the infirmary unit, he reflected on his conversation. He could have sworn that for a moment, Yuichi's voice had changed. It sounded childlike, yet mature beyond his years. It did not belong to a grown man. Those words definitely left his mouth, right?
And everything after that was not much better. The doctor was very vague describing alchemy. It sounded no better than lost magic, if it was even common enough to be "lost."
Vive les Tartares? What does that even mean? the snow-haired demon questioned himself. He made his way downstairs to the main hall. The same two guards stood at the infirmary unit doors.
Tempesta furrowed his brows in thought. The strange words, a song to his girlfriend, the first time opening up to a wise human...
Sayla sat with Bird at a table in the cafeteria. Lunch had already passed around noon. Tempesta disregarded the many inmates around him as he joined Sayla and Bird. He would rather prioritize worldbuilding once he got to see the real world. When Tempesta looked at Sayla's handwriting, his interest peaked.
Vive les Tartares was written at the top of the page in Jackal's journal, the same words Yuichi may or may not have said just moments ago. And with that was roughly two paragraphs of random writing with similar confusing pronunciation.
The male demon had just shared a quip about a shipyard and feral seagulls. Tempesta noticed Bird's once shaggy hair was trimmed to a pixie cut with uneven bangs. Was that intentional?
"Hello, Tempesta," Bird nodded a greeting. He returned the gesture.
"What is this for?" Tempesta asked, pointing at the page.
"That first line says, "long live Tartaros." I've gotten rather good at Kanaji, but I'm still refreshing my French memory," Sayla replied.
"Ah, I thought it looked familiar."
Tempesta's deadpan expression made Sayla titter lightly. She leaned closer to him.
"I found a journal entry that mentions our escape briefly. According to the text, we will be free in April."
"April? Who would predict something like that?" the snow-haired demon asked. Was it that Angelic character again?
"It must be true, Tempesta," Sayla insisted. Bird observed quietly. "Angelic said so. That girl described her powers of telepathy, future vision, veering, speed writing, astro projecting, and possibly teleportation too. She even connected her family history to the possible whereabouts of Mard! And so, I believe her April prediction is accurate."
"Are you really going to believe the creative writing and wishful thinking of a suspiciously overpowered fictional character?" Tempesta inquired.
"For those of us left behind, I believe in her," Sayla insisted. "You don't have to believe me. I know it is silly, but I want to have faith. Don't you want to leave this place? Get a second chance at life?"
Ugh, again with the chances...
"Literature classes and storytelling won't set us free," the snow-haired demon frowned. Bird rolled his eyes.
"Obviously not, Tempe. But you know what will?" the male demon asked. Tempesta was caught off guard by "Tempe" as a name, but chose to ignore it.
"What?"
"Big. Bloody. Riot," Bird answered, showing his jagged,sharp teeth in a wide smile. Was Sayla really going along with this desperate idea?
"That's a terrible idea. The guards have both magic and big guns," Tempesta remarked. Still, he stood firm. He dug into his pocket for the little black card, placing it on top of the open journal. Sayla and Bird gave no indication they recognized the symbol.
"A riot is interesting in theory, but we need power above these goons. And we'll find that power using alchemy."
"CAHAHA! That's just stupid!" Bird barked with laughter. He almost sounded like a hysterical chicken croaking like a person. Tempesta simmered with annoyance.
"I'm serious, Bird," he grunted. "The doctor said so himself."
"The human? You cannot trust him!" Sayla frowned.
"Why not? He told me alchemy is also used to keep us in check. Believe in that over the dumb little girl." Bird simply laughed harder at his statement. The white demon grabbed the card. Tempesta sighed, taking his card back into his pocket.
If they are too complacent to take me seriously, I will find the alchemist myself.
"We will come up with more details as we go, but we must start with teaching French to other inmates," Sayla noted. "I'm unsure of this alchemy magic, but I will see what I can find in the library."
"It's not magic; it's something else entirely," Tempesta corrected her. Bird shook his head as he chuckled. Clearly, he had no intention of believing a human over the words of a nonexistent person. No worries; he just had to find his proof now.
To be continued, type shit. I hate being congested and sickly lol.
- ML