One month later.
Daybreak at the Central Basilica.
Within the mageia lift stood the young magis, his features etched with a profound, simmering irritation. Beyond the walls of the Stormcloud Citadel, the obsidian sky was torn asunder by a violent tempest, heavy with thunder and jagged lightning as if the storm deities were in a state of primal fury. Rain cascaded in relentless sheets, a deluge hammering against the Jewel Hill.
Ordinarily, such natural cacophony might have soothed his spirit, yet today, no symphony of the wild could temper the foulness of his mood.
Throughout the past month, Seraph had exerted himself in a relentless pursuit, scouring the shadowed corners of Arkpolis to unearth the Piperclowns and any other demonic infiltrators lingering within the metropolitan sprawl.
It seemed, however, that he'd squandered the entirety of his luck upon that first encounter in Harmody. Since then, the demons of Arkpolis had remained elusive, as if every last wretch had fled the realm or retreated into the lightless depths, daring not to surface within Arkflame. Yet, this enigmatic disappearance—and the gathering gloom that held the city in its grip—left him with a gnawing sense of foreboding.
Scant hours ago, in the dead of night, the young magis had chanced upon a solitary Piperclown lurking within the subterranean sewers amidst the downpour. Seraph had been galvanised by the sight; he'd launched a violent assault, the resonance of his mageia shattering the alleyway's quiet as he closed in for the capture.
Yet, it appeared the creature had been primed for his arrival. Though the young man had detonated the stone to breach the tunnels with frantic intensity, his celerity was insufficient.
In the heartbeat before his grip could close around the demon's throat, the Piperclown triggered its own demonic crystal, choosing self-immolation without a shred of hesitation. It offered a grotesque, ear-to-ear grin, as if to mock the human magis even in death. Its laughter was a fractured, schizophrenic cacophony—a dissonant cackle that vibrated within his ears even now.
The demonic jester had erupted before his very eyes, leaving behind nothing but its nauseating, frozen smile. His singular lead had been severed once more, a realisation that stung with a bitter, mounting frustration.
Seraph burned with the desire to linger in Arkpolis and continue the hunt; he'd brushed against a thread of truth and felt a grim intuition that, given time, he might unearth the deep, burrowing roots of the infestation now rotting the very heart of the capital.
As the young magis directed the Arkpolis sentries to dispatch the mangled remains of the Piperclown to Sanctus, a Galehawk descended through the murk, bearing an urgent summons from the Grandmaster herself.
✧ . ✶ . ⛤ . ✶ . ✧
Upon entering the Grandmaster's sanctum, Seraph swiftly composed his features into a mask of clinical indifference. Eldra sat entrenched upon the sofa before her magisterial desk, with Evelyn positioned directly opposite. The moment he crossed the threshold, Evelyn practically bolted from her seat.
"Seraph!" she exclaimed, her delight entirely unconcealed as she scrambled forward to seize his hand, ushering him to the spot beside her.
Throughout the girl's display, Eldra maintained a sharp, disapproving glare, yet Evelyn remained utterly impervious to her grandmother's scrutiny, as if the old woman were nothing more than a piece of the furniture.
"Have you forgotten your station as a lady? Do try to show some semblance of decorum!" Eldra remarked, her fingers drumming against the upholstery in rhythmic reproach.
"Tch!" Evelyn averted her gaze, affecting a defiant nonchalance.
"I'll fetch the coffee!" the girl declared with fervent enthusiasm, darting away before another word could be uttered.
"There's no necessity—" Seraph began.
"I require a cup as well—" Eldra added, attempting to address her granddaughter, yet the girl had already vanished into a blur of red tresses, heedless of the Grandmaster's request.
"Do you see the consequence of your actions? This is the ruin that follows when you plunder my granddaughter from me!" Eldra levelled the accusation at the young man.
Seraph felt the sting of the perceived slander, yet found himself trapped in a stroke of wretched misfortune. He was at a loss as to whom he might actually blame.
"My apologies..." Seraph uttered, his voice thin with exhaustion as he loosed a heavy, weary sigh.
"Why do you affect the desolation of a greybeard?!" Eldra barked. "A young man of your seasons ought to be radiating vitality, not this!"
'It's the persistent attempts on my fragile existence by your granddaughter that have left me so desolate,' Seraph mused privately, though he lacked the suicidal bravery to utter such a thought aloud.
"It's nothing," Seraph replied, his tone a flat, clinical shield.
"Displeased that I've recalled you from the field?" Eldra inquired, her gaze as piercing as a bared stiletto.
"I'm not... Hah... I'm merely exasperated with my own failings. It seems I lack the wits to track down the demon hiding in plain sight within this Arkpolis," Seraph finally conceded.
"Don't allow yourself to become mired in the pursuit of a solitary, low-tier demon!" Eldra remarked with grim gravity. "Are you oblivious to the fact that the world beyond these walls is fracturing under the weight of numerous Demon Lord? You needn't fret over a lack of quarries to hunt; even against our wishes, the legions will breach every citadel the moment they discern a fissure in the human realms."
"Understood," Seraph answered.
"Seraph! I've concocted a bespoke brew just for you!" Evelyn bellowed, her voice ringing through the chamber.
The girl bounded forward with manic cheer, though more than half the contents of the cup had already surrendered to the floorboards during her approach. Suddenly, she tripped upon the very same ancient carpet that had graced the Grandmaster's floor for a millennium.
"Ah!" Evelyn shrieked, the coffee service launched into the air.
Seraph, who had been coiled in a state of high alert, lunged to intercept both the girl and the airborne porcelain. With fluid precision, he caught her in one arm while his other hand secured the tray of coffee and chocolate biscuits in a flawless display of dexterity.
Evelyn stared up at the young man cradling her, frozen in a daze of astonishment. Eldra, meanwhile, simply pressed a hand to her temple as a burgeoning headache took hold. A profound silence claimed the Sanctus, as if the clockwork of the world had ground to a sudden halt.
"If the pair of you persist in such a lingering gaze... Eve might well find herself with child," Eldra remarked dryly.
"Seraph!—I... am I really with child?!" Evelyn gasped, her hand darting to her stomach in a fit of wide-eyed panic.
Abruptly, a tide of absolute, suffocating malice erupted from Eldra, flooding the chamber. Seraph felt his throat seize, a cold dread pooling in his marrow; he dared not meet the Grandmaster's gaze.
"Might you exercise a modicum of restraint? I've no desire to be summarily executed by Grandmaster Eldra on such preposterous grounds," Seraph whispered to the girl still cradled in his arms.
At his words, Evelyn snapped back to her senses. She scrambled to her feet, her countenance flushed so violently she looked as if she'd been scorched by her own flame. The weight of Eldra's dry remark, coupled with the girl's own panicked outcry, had rendered the atmosphere so toxic that neither dared to breathe.