Somewhere deep within the vast stretch of the demon's palace, far from the glowing throne rooms and dark halls where power lingered, there was a place stained with sweat, blood, and the sounds of battle. This was the training yard, a harsh ground where demons sharpened their cruelty beneath a heavy, unforgiving sky. Roars of effort filled the air, clashing with the sharp crack of whips and the ring of steel on steel. The smell of smoke, pain, and wounds hung thick. It was not a place for weakness. It was where pain shaped killers.
Here, high-ranking demons came to prove their strength, barking orders at the ones below them or tearing into practice dummies with twisted joy. The air was never quiet. Shouts echoed off the stone walls, blades clashed, and low snarls rumbled through the yard. Every sound added to the rhythm of violence that never truly stopped.
And among it all… was a little girl.
Aileen moved slowly across the cold stone floor, the hem of her oversized tunic dragging against her legs. The fabric was rough and scratchy, stitched together from old scraps and stained with dirt. In her small hands, she struggled to carry a wooden bucket filled with cloudy, soapy water. It was heavy, almost too much for her, but she kept going, her bare feet slipping now and then on the wet floor as she tried not to spill a drop.
Her arms ached. Her back burned.
The air smelled like rust and rot, with a sharp, bitter scent that made her throat tighten and her stomach twist. She wanted to stop, to drop the bucket and sit down.
But she didn't. She kept walking, one slow step at a time.
She was afraid. This place swarmed with monsters, demons who sometimes leered at her as they passed, eyes glittering with a hunger she didn't understand but instinctively feared. Each time she caught that gaze, it chilled her to the marrow.
But she didn't cry.
"No more crying."
She repeated the words like a prayer, her lips pressed shut. There was no Zen here to protect her. No one to take her punishment. No one to pull her behind him and stand between her and the darkness.
Every time she slipped, every time she was too slow, spilled water, or stumbled, it was he who suffered the consequences. Her brother.
"I will be strong. Then he won't have to protect me anymore."
She took another step. Her arms shook. The bucket handle dug into her fingers. Her knees felt weak. Her body begged her to stop, to rest. But she kept going.
"Zen always smiled when I tried hard."
"He'd say I am the strongest little sister in the world."
She wanted to see that smile again.
It had been so long.
More than three months.
She hadn't seen his face. She hadn't heard his voice.
"Did something happen?"
The thought came uninvited. Her grip faltered for a heartbeat.
"No. No, he promised."
He had knelt before her, hands on her shoulders, voice calm and steady.
"I'll come back for you, Aileen. I promise."
He never broke his promises.
And yet… in the filth and the silence, she still felt afraid.
"Please… come back soon."
Her vision blurred.
But she didn't stop.
One trembling step at a time.
For him.
For herself.
And then,
The air shifted.
At first, it was subtle, like a breeze that didn't touch her skin. Then it pulled in a strange, cold, and unseen way.
Before she could cry out, the world around her dimmed.
Her knees buckled.
Darkness rushed in.
Then-silence.