"Tell me, child, do you want to see it burn?" The question hung in the air, strange and unsettling, especially coming from her. Relaxed on her stone throne, the young woman radiated an aura of effortless dominance. Her long, golden hair cascaded down her shoulders, gleaming like threads of sunlight. She wore a silk robe, rich in texture and hue, just thick enough to obscure her form but tied so loosely it was clear modesty was not her concern.

I let the corpse fall to the ground. Charred fragments of cloth pirouetted lazily through the chamber, twisting in the faint currents of heat that still lingered. My hands, smeared with dried blood—blood I had spilled moments ago—felt heavy, the warmth of the earlier inferno still clinging to my skin. I turned my gaze to her, truly studying her face for the first time. She looked human, every feature as mundane as the people I had left behind, but my senses screamed otherwise. There was a weight in the air around her, a silent roar of something ancient and unrelenting that no mere mortal could possess.

"You are not human," I whispered. My voice echoed faintly in the chamber, reaching her ears with an ease that defied the distance. Magic. It had to be.

She laughed, a rich, hearty sound that reverberated off the stone walls, shaking the air itself. The laughter rumbled through my chest, as if the earth beneath me had trembled. My knees threatened to buckle, but I forced myself to stand firm, planting my staff against the ground for support. The crimson gemstone at its tip glowed faintly, reacting to the oppressive aura that poured from her.

"Of course not," she said, her tone laced with mockery. "Did you truly come to the Devil Lord's mansion expecting to find a mere human? That would be a poor assumption for one who wields such power."

Her tone sharpened. "Did you expect anything less than absolute dominance? Now, I must ask you again—do you want to see it burn?" She rested her head on her fist, her relaxed demeanor as maddening as it was intimidating.

"See what burn?" I demanded. My frustration boiled beneath the surface. I had already razed the creatures in the forest, laid waste to her personal guard, and now stood before her, my power surging—and yet, she seemed utterly unconcerned, speaking only in riddles.

She stared at me, her piercing gaze holding a knowing weight, as though she could see every unspoken truth within me. "That doesn’t matter much to you, does it?" she asked, her mocking tone laced with a second meaning that lingered just out of reach, daring me to unravel it.

Anger flared within me, raw and unyielding. It wasn’t just her games or her cryptic words—it was the same searing rage I had felt towards the people who had betrayed me, who had crushed every shred of trust I once had. I wanted her, and all those like her, to suffer, to feel even a fraction of the torment they had etched into my soul. I wanted them to b—

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"I see," I said, cutting off my own thoughts as understanding dawned. Her smile widened, and I lifted my staff, its gemstone flickering with renewed energy. "Yes. I want to burn it all. Every civilization humanity has built on this Earth. I want to scorch those parasites from existence."

Her smirk deepened. It was as if she could see every corner of my mind, and the realization unnerved me. "You don’t want to stop there, now do you?"

"Enough riddles! If you continue, I will—"

"You will remove me from this world as well?" she interrupted, her voice sharp and degrading. "But I am not human, as you so astutely pointed out. Why must I perish alongside them?"

I faltered, her words forcing me to reconsider. Did I truly wish her death? Was that why I had come all this way?

"You seem conflicted, my child," she said, her tone softer now, almost coaxing. "Would you like some help unraveling these feelings?"

"Stop calling me a child! Ember!" My rage exploded, and I hurled a ball of flame at her throne. The spell struck true, shattering the stone seat into a spray of jagged shards. The fire roared, momentarily blinding me as it consumed the air around us.

When the flames subsided, her voice echoed once more, calm and unshaken. "Ember, is it? A spell meant for lighting campfires and warming travelers," she said, her tone carrying both mockery and insight. "Not an attack spell by any means, but you compensate with sheer power. It’s impressive in its own way—a brute force approach, but one that shows your lack of proper training.""

The air shimmered to my left, like moonlight reflecting on rippling water. Slowly, her form materialized, pristine and unscathed. Her robe, untouched by the flames, hung more loosely now, slipping just enough to reveal more of her skin without fully coming undone, as if teasing the line between modesty and bold defiance.

"Tell me, child, what is your story?" she asked, descending a few steps from where her throne once stood. She sat on the stair, her posture just as nonchalant as before.

"I am not a child," I hissed through clenched teeth. "I am twelve years old."

"Ah, so mature," she mused with a faint chuckle. "But the one before you is over five centuries old. Your twelve years are but a blink of an eye to me."

I frowned, puzzled by her ageless appearance. How could someone so ancient look so young? Her eyes met mine, and again, I felt the uncomfortable sensation of her reading my every thought.

"A devil is not born to parents," she explained. "We are born of evil—manifestations of harmful intentions, pooled and given form. When enough creatures harbor the same malice, we come into existence. The greater and more widespread the intent, the stronger the devil."

"And what intent created you?" I asked, despite myself. The concept fascinated me.

"I am derived from pride," she said, her voice filled with quiet reverence. "The father of all sins. How fitting that the Devil Lord, a role of absolute self-interest, should embody such arrogance. And now that you know me, tell me, what burdens do you carry?"

I opened my mouth to refuse her, to insist that I had no interest in sharing—but before the words escaped, my mind was overcome. Memories long buried surged forth, flooding my consciousness with pain, anger, and the weight of my past. For the first time in years, I was forced to confront them.