I woke to a dull pressure on my chest and the soft rustling of something—or someone—shifting above me. The room was still dim, the heavy curtains doing their best to block out the sun, but there was just enough light for me to make out a mop of silver-white hair spilling over my face. I blinked, sluggishly brushing strands out of my eyes, and then promptly froze.
Two mismatched eyes stared back at me, wide and bright and far too close. A grin stretched across the girl's face like she was the punchline to a joke only she understood.
"Good morning, Master! Did you sleep well?"
My soul left my body for about two seconds before crashing back in with the full weight of confusion and resigned disbelief. I gave a groggy groan—not annoyance, not quite—just the sound of someone who knew, deep down, that this was probably going to be her life from now on.
"What are you doing?" I mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.
Lilith didn't flinch. If anything, she beamed harder. Her tail swished behind her like a happy cat. "A devoted servant must be close and personal with their master! That's how strong bonds are forged!"
I stared at her, trying to figure out where in the seven burning hells she'd even heard that. It sounded like something out of a really bad romance play. One with zero funding and too many shirtless swordfights.
With a sigh that felt too old for someone my age, I let my head drop back onto the pillow. Lilith, sensing she wasn't about to be praised for her dedication, finally slid off me with a dramatic stretch and padded over to the curtains. The moment she flung them open, the light punched into the room like a slap. I squinted, shielding my face with one arm, already regretting not pulling the covers over my head sooner.
I watched her sift through my belongings—which, to be fair, could barely fill a single drawer—and pull out the one set of clothes I actually owned. She held them out with a triumphant "Here you go! Now get up already!" like she'd just done me the world's biggest favor.
The nightgown I was wearing still felt weird. Soft, silken, definitely not what I was used to. I'd worn the same rough tunic and pants day and night before all this. Clean sheets, warm beds, fresh clothes—none of it felt quite real yet.
I stared at Lilith. She stared back. Her ears twitched expectantly.
"I sort of need to dress," I said carefully. "So…"
Lilith blinked. Then her face lit up. "Got it!"
I blinked too, suddenly uncertain. "Wait—"
"Say no more!" she chirped, walking back toward me far too confidently for someone who understood nothing. She reached for my arm.
I kicked her out.
To her credit, she didn't argue much. Just knelt dramatically outside my door, hands on her thighs, muttering something about "injustice to devoted familiars" as I slammed it shut behind her.
Later that day, I found myself in one of the temple gardens, watching the wind shift through the pale leaves while I waited for Elisabeth to show up. She had taken to tutoring me in magic, or at least trying to. I still couldn't tell if I was actually getting better, or if she was just a really good liar.
All I could do with any consistency was feel mana and, on a good day, keep it from leaking out of me like a cracked pot. I'd tried a barrier spell once. It flickered for two seconds before shattering like glass. Healing magic? Same deal. I could barely close a scratch.
Apparently, though, I was a "fast learner." At least that's what Elisabeth said, with that gentle smile of hers that made you want to believe her even when everything else screamed otherwise.
Malcom had stopped by once or twice to check in, but he was stretched thin these days—some temple politics, some orphanage work, and a whole lot of "you're more useful than you think" speeches that didn't quite land when said by a man missing an arm. He still made them sound inspiring, somehow.
Not that I minded the lessons, exactly. It was just... slow going. Frustrating. Like chasing smoke with your bare hands. And while I appreciated Elisabeth's kindness, I couldn't shake the feeling that everyone expected more from me than I could give.
I didn't hear her approach. Of course I didn't.
"Who're you waiting for, Master?" Lilith's voice piped up from behind me, smug and full of unearned confidence. "Could it be… a special someone~?"
I didn't even flinch. I was getting used to her sudden appearances—like a very persistent dream you couldn't wake up from. Or a cat that learned how to open doors.
"Elisabeth," I said flatly. "She's been helping me with magic."
Lilith made a thoughtful little hum, then practically bounced forward and leaned far too close for comfort. Her grin went crooked, like she'd just stumbled upon something profound.
"Which means…" she started, her eyes sparkling with mock revelation, "she's your master!"
"...No."
"That would make her my master's master!" she continued anyway, completely ignoring me. "A grandmaster! That sounds so cool!"
I gave her a sideways look. "You done?"
But she wasn't. Her eyes narrowed in thought, and she frowned like a child being told their favorite toy might belong to someone else.
"Wait, no… that can't be right," she mumbled to herself. "I couldn't possibly have another master. Just you. Only you."
I sighed. Loudly. "Just—don't cause trouble when she gets here, alright?"
Lilith tilted her head, clearly considering the implications of not causing trouble like it was a foreign language. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, brushing the grass.
Then something clicked.
The robes Elisabeth wore. The soft hymns she sang sometimes under her breath. The way Seraphina once lectured me with those ancient books, showing me drawings of devils and their "corrupting influence." Their horns, wings, tail—everything Lilith practically was.
"...Actually," I said, turning to her with a cautious tone, "You should probably go somewhere else for a bit."
Lilith frowned. "Why?"
"Elisabeth's a priestess. Of Light. The kind that sees devils as walking sin. If she sees you, she might try to, I don't know… purify you with holy fire."
Lilith gave an exaggerated gasp. "You'd let me be purified?!"
"No. That's why I'm telling you to leave."
She folded her arms, tail wrapping around one of her legs in a pout. "But I can't leave your side! What if you need me?"
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down my face. Then, a terrible, wonderful idea hit me.
"Lilith," I said, straightening. "That's an order."
She froze.
Her eyes widened a bit, her lips parted, and for a long second she just stared at me like I'd spoken an ancient incantation she didn't expect me to know.
"You… you're using your authority?" she said, voice wavering with melodrama. "Master… I didn't think we'd reach this level of commitment so soon…"
"I'm telling you to go lurk behind a tree or something."
"A cruel command… but I must obey."
She wilted, turning away dramatically, then vanished behind a hedge with far more flair than necessary. I didn't know whether to be relieved or worried that she'd actually listened.
Elisabeth arrived with her usual half-embarrassed presence—her steps a bit too careful, like she wasn't sure if she was interrupting something, or maybe just wasn't convinced she belonged in a palace courtyard. Her white-and-gold priestess robes were immaculate, but her sleeves were rumpled, like she'd put them on in a hurry. She gave me a polite nod as she approached, though her hand rose halfway as if she meant to wave and thought better of it halfway through.
"Sorry if I'm late," she said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "The guards stopped me. Again. I think they forget who I am every time."
"I don't think they even know who I am," I said, which earned me a soft chuckle.
"I suppose that's comforting. In a weird way."
We settled on the grass beneath a pale-leaved tree. The air was warm and still, just enough of a breeze to keep the sweat at 'mildly annoying' instead of 'existential.' I stretched a little, rolling my shoulders. Elisabeth, meanwhile, sat with her back very straight, like she'd read somewhere that was how you were supposed to do it.
"Alright," she said, "we'll begin like usual—with centering. Then I thought we'd try something a bit different today."
I arched a brow. "Different how? Should I be concerned?"
She hesitated, then smiled awkwardly. "Not… dangerous different. Just… more active. You've been getting better at moving mana. I think it's time to try shaping it."
That caught my attention. "Shaping?"
Elisabeth nodded. "Think of it like… water. It flows through you. You can let it pool, or you can direct it. Today, I want you to shape it—guide it into form, hold it, and maintain it. Even something small is good."
I closed my eyes and focused, more out of habit now than effort. The sensation of mana was no longer foreign—it was faint, yes, and unpredictable, but familiar. Not a stranger anymore.
I pictured the flow like thread, drawing it out, shaping it. Just a needle's worth of light, steady in the palm of my hand.
It worked. A thin sliver of silver-gold shimmered in the air, like starlight caught mid-blink.
Elisabeth inhaled sharply, and I glanced up. She was beaming—genuine, radiant—and I found myself smiling, just a little.
Then something rustled behind a hedge.
Both of us looked up.
It wasn't a particularly large hedge. Or a quiet one, apparently. A pink-tipped twin-tail poked out first, followed by two black bat-like wings, and then Lilith, who had clearly been crouching in a position not meant for extended surveillance. She stumbled upright with all the subtlety of a cat falling off a bookshelf, brushing twigs from her frilly dress like she hadn't just been eavesdropping for twenty minutes.
"Oh," she said, blinking at us. "Hello."
Elisabeth froze.
Her expression drained from gentle warmth to sheer horror. Her body tensed as if every nerve had screamed in warning. Her gaze locked onto Lilith like she was trying to understand what, exactly, had just stepped into her reality. She took one staggering step back.
The air around us shifted—Elisabeth's hands trembled as she instinctively reached for the silver pendant at her collar. I could practically see the divine training kicking in, even if the rest of her was currently panicking like a cornered rabbit.
And then she felt it.
Even I felt it, faintly—that strange pressure that clung to Lilith like perfume, sweet and sinister and otherworldly. But to Elisabeth, a priestess of Light, it must've hit like a wall of smoke.
"I-is that—" she whispered, her voice small, "—is that a devil?"
Lilith, oblivious or possibly just delighted, tilted her head and gave Elisabeth a little V-sign near her cheek.
"I'm not a bad girl," she said, flashing her fangs in the least reassuring way imaginable.
"Stay back," she whispered, voice shaky. Her hand rose instinctively, fingers trembling. Her lips moved, barely audible, as she recited something under her breath.
"—puritas lumen… in nomine solis—"
The air flickered faintly at her fingertips. A warmth started to build—and then sputtered out. The magic unraveled in a pathetic fizz of sparks and nothing.
Lilith tilted her head. "Was that supposed to do something?"
Elisabeth stared, wide-eyed, pale, clearly caught between running or screaming.
"Okay, okay!" I blurted, stepping between them, hands raised like that would somehow fix this. "Let's all breathe. Elisabeth, it's okay—really! She's not going to hurt you. She's just… annoying."
Lilith pouted. "I heard that."
"I meant for you to," I snapped, then turned back to Elisabeth. "She's… complicated. Look, I know how this looks, but I swear she's not some summoned evil or cultist or whatever."
Elisabeth's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "She… she feels like—"
"I know," I said quickly. "I noticed that too. Believe me, I noticed. But she's been helpful. Mostly. She calls herself my familiar."
Lilith beamed. "Master~" she cooed, and I nearly collapsed into the grass out of sheer shame.
"She's your familiar?" Elisabeth said again, eyes still locked on Lilith. "That devil?"
"She says she's not exactly a devil," I offered weakly. "According to herself."
Elisabeth's eyes didn't leave Lilith, who was now twirling in place, apparently unfazed by the near-exorcism. Her wings fluttered lightly as she adjusted one of her bat-wing hair clips.
I gave her a look. She gave me a wink.
Lilith may act like a clingy stray, but the air around her was anything but harmless. I didn't understand what she was, not really—but deep down, I was starting to think even she didn't know the whole story.
"She's radiating malice," Elisabeth said weakly, clutching her staff to her chest. "I can feel it. It's like my whole body is rejecting her."
I hesitated.
"Yeah," I admitted. "That sounds about right."
Lilith gave me a hurt look. "Master! How cruel~ I was just trying to be part of the lesson. You were doing so well, I got excited."
"You made her almost faint."
"Well that's not my fault," Lilith pouted. "I'm just standing here, being cute and unholy. It's not like I chose to be scary."
Elisabeth still looked pale and rigid, but her hands weren't shaking as badly now. Her eyes flicked between us—me, wringing my hands and trying not to scream, and Lilith, who had dramatically thrown herself across a nearby bench with one arm over her forehead like a rejected stage actress.
"She really hasn't hurt anyone?" Elisabeth asked, cautiously.
"Not even a bug," I said. "Except maybe my sanity."
After a long, strained silence, Elisabeth finally let out a slow breath and eased back onto the grass, still visibly tense.
"I… I trust your judgment," she said at last, though she sounded like she was still trying to convince herself. "Just… warn me next time?"
"Absolutely," I said quickly. "I'll keep her out of sight next lesson. Promise."
Lilith huffed. "So many rules for someone who summoned me by accident."
"I didn't summon you, you just happened—!"
Elisabeth just let out a small, disbelieving laugh.
Then, just before the silence could collapse into another awkward heap, Sora came sprinting out from a side corridor, nearly stumbling over her own feet.
"There you are!" she panted. "The emperor—he's summoned everyone. Something urgent. They're gathering in the throne room right now!"
Elisabeth stiffened again—but this time with purpose rather than terror. She gave me a quick, formal nod, though her expression was still halfway stuck between holy dread and polite exit.
"I should go," she said. "I… apologize. For the reaction."
"No, that's fair," I muttered. "Honestly, you took it better than I expected."
Sora bowed slightly to Elisabeth in passing, then froze halfway through when she realized what she'd done. Her cheeks flushed a soft pink.
"S-sorry for interrupting," she mumbled, eyes flicking between the two of us.
"It's alright," Elisabeth said kindly, with a faint smile.
Sora didn't quite meet my eyes as she turned and motioned for me to follow. I stood, dusted myself off—
—and then sighed as Lilith immediately attached herself to my side like a smug barnacle.
"You're not staying here, are you?" I asked.
"What if you get assassinated on the way?" she said sweetly. "As your familiar, I must prevent such things."
"I'm walking twenty feet in a palace."
"Exactly. Anything could happen."
I gave her a flat look and started walking anyway, because arguing with Lilith was like arguing with smoke.
We made our way through the long halls toward the throne room. I'd only been there once before—when Lilith's 'enthusiastic exploring' had nearly gotten us both exiled from polite company. Something about not climbing the imperial statue and singing to the curtains.
Good times.
This time, though, something about the tension in the air made me wonder if the emperor's message wasn't just another eccentric gathering.
Something had shifted.
And I had the sinking feeling that whatever it was… it wasn't small.