The question hung in the air.
Cold. Cutting. Threatening.
Feitan didn't flinch.
He just sighed, as if dealing with a stubborn child, which, technically, he was.
"Refugee from Kitsumi. Village called Ash Court. She was being executed by a demon who controlled the place. I killed the demon. Brought her here."
Pause.
"Simple as that."
Silence.
Mabel blinked.
Once. Twice.
Then leaned forward.
"Sorry. Did you say... demon?"
"Yes."
"An actual demon?"
"Yes."
"Horns, yellow eyes, powerful magic, the whole deal?"
"Yes."
Mabel stood up, slowly.
"Fei-fei. Demons don't exist. They're myths. Legends from Axoland's founding era. Old books. Stories to scare children."
"Apparently they exist," Feitan crossed his arms, "because I killed one."
"Holy shit," she descended the steps quickly, "Holy shit. HOLY SHIT."
She stopped in front of him.
"Are you absolutely certain? Wasn't it just a human with a strange affinity? Or a mutant beast? Or—"
"It was a demon, Mabel," Feitan cut her off, his tone firm, "Horns. Yellow eyes with vertical pupils. Pale skin. Combined water and wind magic. Controlled the entire village through fear and devotion. Performed ritual sacrifices."
Pause.
"And it was strong. Very strong. Gave me trouble."
Mabel went quiet, processing.
Then she looked at me.
"And she survived that?"
"Not only survived. Faced it before I arrived," Feitan gestured, "Obviously lost. Was nearly dead when I found her. But the fact that she tried already says something."
"Simple," Mabel repeated, her tone dry, "You invaded another kingdom's territory, discovered demons are real, killed one, caused a giant diplomatic incident, and brought back a bloodied child."
"Basically."
"And you want me to do what with her?"
"Find her a place to stay," Feitan crossed his arms, "Preferably with some noble. She needs proper shelter, not a commoner's life."
Mabel raised an eyebrow, those purple eyes gleaming with renewed interest.
"Why? There are thousands of commoners in Axoland. Why does this one need special treatment?"
"Because if she stays as a commoner, prejudice will fuck up her life. She's from Kitsumi. A foreigner. A refugee. She'll be an easy target."
He looked at Mabel directly.
"And because she's strong. Has huge potential. With proper training, she could become a useful magic knight for the kingdom."
Silence.
Mabel tilted her head, studying, those bright eyes now fixed on me.
"Strong how?"
"Survived a demon. Has a rare affinity. Transmutation."
"Huh," Mabel began circling around me, "Interesting."
Slowly, deliberately, as if evaluating every inch.
She stopped in front of me, tilted her head, white hair falling over her shoulder.
"Too thin. Malnourished. Poorly healed wounds. Defensive posture. Dead eyes."
She stopped again.
"Obvious trauma. Probably several."
"Thanks for the sensitive analysis," Feitan murmured.
"You're welcome!" Mabel smiled broadly, "By the way, Fei-fei, are you becoming an adoptive father now? Rescuing lost little children? How cute! I didn't know you had that paternal side!"
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"Mabel."
"You'll have to buy little clothes. Brush her hair. Read bedtime stories. Oh! And sing lullabies!"
"Mabel."
"? Sleep my baby, sleep in peace, daddy Feitan is here and won't let anything hurt you— ?"
"MABEL."
She laughed, loud and genuine.
"Sorry, sorry. Can't resist."
But then her expression changed, became serious, focused.
She approached me, very close, and pressed her forehead against mine.
"Time Magic: Prediction."
Her voice came out different, echoed, as if coming from multiple places at once.
And then she froze, completely still.
Purple eyes fixed, but not seeing me, seeing something else, something beyond.
Seconds passed, then minutes.
Neither she nor I moved.
Feitan stood there observing, but didn't interfere.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Mabel blinked and pulled away.
Expression... neutral, not happy, not sad, just neutral.
She returned to the throne, sat down.
Looked at me, then at Feitan.
"I'll see what I can do."
Pause.
"For now, the royal family will give her shelter. You can rest easy, Fei-fei."
Feitan nodded.
"Thank you."
Mabel clapped twice.
The doors opened.
Two girls entered, young, maybe thirteen, impeccable maid uniforms.
One had short black hair, brown eyes, shy posture.
The other had light brown hair tied in a ponytail, blue eyes, more confident posture.
"Fuyumi. Hinata," Mabel spoke, her tone gentle, even respectful, "I need a favor."
Both bowed.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Mabel gestured toward me.
"This is Sekire. Refugee from Kitsumi. She'll be staying with us for a while."
Pause.
"I need you to take care of her. Get proper clothes. Give her a bath. Take her to a room to rest. And ask the chef to prepare a special meal. Something nutritious. She needs to regain weight."
The girls looked at me, then at Mabel, then back at me.
Then they smiled.
"Of course, Your Highness. With pleasure."
Mabel waved.
"You may go. And Sekire?"
I looked at her.
"Welcome to Axoland."
There was no sarcasm, no cruelty, just sincerity.
The girls approached gently.
"Come with us," Fuyumi said, her voice soft, "We'll take care of you."
I looked at Feitan.
He nodded.
"Go. It's okay."
I nodded and followed the girls out of the hall.
The doors closed behind us.
POV: Mabel
I waited until the footsteps faded.
Then I leaned back on the throne, looked at Feitan.
"She's going to be useful."
"I know."
"No," I shook my head, "You don't understand. She's going to be VERY useful."
I closed my eyes.
The images still echoed, fragments, possibilities, potential futures.
Blood. Fire. Power.
And at the center of it all, Sekire, older, stronger, more... complete.
I opened my eyes.
"The dreams were true after all."
Feitan frowned.
"What dreams?"
"Nothing you need to know," I smiled broadly, "For now."
I stood up, descended the steps, walked to him.
"Now. Tell me. The mission. The immigrations. Kitsumi. The demon. Everything."
His expression grew serious.
"It's bad, Mabel. Very bad."
"Bad how?"
"Commoners would rather follow demons, become slaves in Orchadia, drown trying to reach Liliora, or starve in the desert between Quartzhelm, Cuttlee and Kitsumi than stay there."
Pause.
"It's so bad that death seems like the better option."
Something cold passed through me.
"Holy shit."
"Exactly."
I took a deep breath.
"Tell me everything. From the beginning."
Feitan told me everything, the village, Ash Court, the misery, the cult structure, the sacrifices executed publicly, the devotees' acceptance, the demon, Vhorkan, black horns, yellow eyes, combined water and wind magic, the fight, the destruction, the death.
And when he finished, I was... shocked.
I didn't show it, not completely, but inside, chaos.
"Demons are real," I murmured, "Old books. Foundation stories. Akaester the Explosive supposedly fought one. But we thought they were just legends."
"They're not."
"No," I agreed, "And if there's one in Kitsumi..."
"There might be more."
Heavy silence.
Then I decided.
"I'll contact Clemearl. And my mother."
"For what?"
"To try to resolve this diplomatically," I looked at him, "If Kitsumi won't do anything about the demons and the humanitarian crisis, someone has to."
Feitan nodded.
"Good idea."
Pause.
"And since I mentioned Clemearl..."
I smiled.
"I'll ask the Netherheart family to take care of Sekire."
Feitan's eyes brightened.
"Seriously?"
"Yes. They have resources. Influence. And Clemearl is good with traumatized children. Literally saves them every week."
I laughed.
"It'll be perfect."
Feitan smiled genuinely.
"That would be... very good for her. Thank you, Mabel."
"You're welcome, Fei-fei," I patted his shoulder, "Now go. You reek of beast blood and sweat."
"Always so kind."
"It's my charm."
He turned to leave but stopped at the door.
"Mabel."
"Hm?"
"What did you see? In the prediction."
I smiled but didn't answer.
"You'll find out. Eventually."
He looked at me, studying, then nodded and left.
I was alone in the hall, returned to the throne, sat down, looked at the ceiling.
"Sekire Dawnveil. Refugee from Kitsumi. Survivor."
I laughed quietly.
"You don't know it yet. But you're going to change everything."
I closed my eyes and waited for the future I had seen.
POV: Sekire
The bath was... strange, not bad, just strange.
Hot water, actually hot, not lukewarm, hot.
Soap that smelled like flowers, I didn't know what kind, but it was good.
Fuyumi washed my hair gently, carefully, as if I were fragile.
Hinata prepared clothes, clean, soft, new.
"You're so small," Fuyumi said, not with pity, just observation, "We'll need to adjust the clothes."
"But for now, these will do," Hinata added.
They dressed me, simple white shirt, brown pants, thick socks, comfortable shoes.
Nothing ostentatious, but clean, cared for.
"Better?" Hinata asked.
I nodded because it was, much better.
"Now food," Fuyumi said, "The chef prepared something special."
They led me to a room, not the main dining hall, but a smaller, more intimate room.
Simple table, one chair, and a covered plate.
Hinata uncovered it.
Soup, thick, full of vegetables, pieces of meat, fresh bread on the side.
The smell was... my stomach growled loudly.
The girls laughed.
"Eat," Fuyumi said gently, "As much as you want."
I sat down, picked up the spoon, and ate.
It was hot, tasty, nutritious.
Each spoonful seemed to heal something inside me, not the body, not exactly, but something deeper.
I finished the plate.
"Want more?" Hinata asked.
I wanted to, but I was full.
"No. Thank you."
"Then let's take you to your room."
We followed more corridors to a simple wooden door.
Fuyumi opened it.
And inside, a small room, but clean, tidy.
Bed with white sheets, soft pillows, thick blanket, window with curtains, small table, chair, candle.
Simple, but welcoming.
"This is your room," Hinata said, "For now at least."
"If you need anything, just call," Fuyumi added, "We're in the next corridor."
They smiled.
"Rest well, Sekire."
And they left, closing the door softly.
I stood there, looking at the room, the room that was mine.
I walked to the bed, touched the sheets, soft, clean.
I sat down, sank slightly, comfortable.
I lay down.
The bed was perfect, not hard, not soft, just... right.
I pulled the blanket over me, warm, welcoming.
I closed my eyes, and for the first time in so long, I felt safe.
Not completely, not yet, but enough, enough to whisper in the dark.
"Will I finally be able to be happy?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered.
But for the first time, there was a possibility that yes.
END OF CHAPTER 11

