Within the many buildings located in the humble town of Fernbedie, there was one particularly important facility that stood out due to its size. The local academy, in theory aligned with the Roemoon School, oversaw the entire town.
With an imposing height of two floors, it had the formidable ability to house up to six-hundred demons. Each individual room had some limits when it came to space, but they sufficed for the young students who knew next-to-nothing about the lands they walked on.
In one particular classroom, a hairy male demon oversaw fifteen uniformed kids, all of which were busy with some drawings. Their drawings portrayed a few particular figures from the town.
The girl sitting in the closest row to the professor's desktop opted to paint the glamorous figure of a purple skinned fiend, serving as a contrast for the blue attire worn by him. He faced a humble but resilient population.
Soon enough, she drew a bubble speech coming from multiple sources.
"Long live Mister Fernand! Long live Fernbedie!"
Standing by the door, a gigantic, young titan glued a drawing of multiple stick-people with tape. Four of them wore the standard Shepherd uniform– or at least, the attempt made by the youngster at drawing said outfit, but two stood out due to the named blocks hanging above their heads.
[Gina Fiend who faces enemies], could be read on top of the blonde figure of a woman holding an axe. Just behind her, the well-built body of a titan towered far above hers. Near the fiend's head height level, a block meant for the titan floated.
[Sean Titan the rigurious shield]
… However, one of the best drawings belonged to a relatively tall spectre sitting alone in the back. With downcast eyes, his pallid hand added yet another line to the warm expression of Mayoress Eilenna. Her tail waging on the left, undisturbing of the sword pointing at an armored bandit's head.
His judgemental gaze fell on his own drawing. In spite of the abysmal difference in quality in comparison to the others' subpar creations, the spotlight only fell in those spots that were not up to his standards.
"The period is ending! Stick your drawings in the walls or the hall before the next class!"
"Yes, teacher!"
Most of the kids, including the first two, hurriedly got up to leave their mark for the "lighthouses," of the town to see. Perhaps they'd help them ward off the darkness that lurks in the never-ending abyss… even if it's for a fleeting moment.
Yet, the spectre did not rush out.
He got rid of every flaw and error he saw. Every misplaced line, minuscule flaws in the lightning, and shed color on the spots that were shrouded in the darkness of the pencils. The time for the recess neared, but rushing was still out of his mind.
In the meantime, almost all of his classmates got up to stick their artworks onto one of the walls.
"I'm sure this will give the guards some will to fight," voiced one of the younger figures in the room.
"Of course!" answered the teacher, who stroked his own, thick beard. "Just look at these masterpieces! They're almost as good as the tea I cooked this morning!"
"'Almost'??"
"Yes Karl, almost!"
The titan from earlier, Karl, had one of his eyebrows raised. The teacher didn't mind him and kept smiling pridefully.
Not everything was cheering and laughing, though. Some of the present demons were aware of it. Namely, the wing-less fiend sitting in the front row.
She got up and walked over towards his bench in the back. "Marco? How is yours…"
The fiend's mouth ceased to deliver words. She merely looked at the paper sheet in utter surprise.
"T-this… This is amazi-"
Someone activated the bell from the courtyard. A couple of kids bursted out of the rooms in the lower floors, with a greater wave following after them. Something similar happened in most of the upper floors, but the older students took it easier.
The same occurred in Marco's classroom. They mostly went out slowly, though a few rebellious ones would always be present.
"Last one to get to stairs is a roach!" yelled Karl, who dashed far ahead of his group.
"Unfair!"
Eight didn't hesitate in running out in the end. Five strolled after them.
The fiend was just about to do so, but someone's words stopped her just in time from doing so.
"It's good, but not good enough. At least not if compared to his drawings."
The environment around him almost emanated bleakness. Yet, even with his face in a standstill, his hand didn't stop.
Of course, the fiend didn't know what to do. She knew her words re-opened a wound. The adult figure in the room caught the doubt in her eyes, so he took the freedom to intervene.
"Marco, Vicky. Mind helping this geezer cleaning up?"
The voice of the teacher lured some of the duo's attention. He stroked the long beard growing under his chin as if his hand had accustomed itself to it.
"Yes, Mister Joe," replied both Marco and the fiend, Vicky.
The trio got to work silently. There were a lot of leftover residual paper bits to pick up, most of them lying around on the floor.
"I get they were happy, but why leave such a mess…" uttered the teacher.
"Excitement, Mister Joe," answered the female fiend, as she threw a bunch of cut-up paper slips on the trash can.
"Right, right. But still, is this level of waste even needed? My back can't handle so much cleaning…"
Their talk caught Marco's attention temporarily. He peeked his head just high enough to let his eyes witness what the teacher and the student were doing.
A back bent over allowed the body's two hands to pick up paper bits off the floor. Strands of hair reaching down from his head fluttered behind the uniform's rear.
That didn't seem to bother Marco much, if at all.
He exhaled.
"Was this activity really needed, teacher?"
"Yes, Marco."
"Why?" questioned the spectre. Two cold eyes stared back at the teacher.
Joe took notice of his attitude. Pity flashed by his eyes. "You know, it's healthy to take your mind off of things for a while and just have fun. It'll help you feel better."
The student stared, but did not voice a reply until his thoughts had grinded down to a halt. "Alright."
The trio kept cleaning in silence. This continued up to the conclusion of their task.
"Marco, you sure you don't want to stick your drawing somewhere?"
Marco shook his head.
"Ok… Anyway, I'll be going. I promised the girls I'd help them with their hair after class, and I need to get some hairbands," voiced Vicky, who walked out of the classroom after greeting her classmate and educator.
Similarly, the teacher walked up to the door silently. "Don't beat yourself too much over that, Marco. You know Demian wouldn't like it."
… When the other two left, the spectre stared at the drawing resting on his table.
"... They'll will pay for what they did to you, brother. With their blood."
The spectre's dull eyes flared to life. Hate was all he could think about and feel.
A strong, burning hatred.