"Quinn, please; just where are you taking me?" Cobalt asked for what he counted to be the fourth time, gripping the sides of his wheelchair as the Imp hurtled him down one of Brimstone's side streets.

"It's not far, I swear," she replied, turning suddenly and nearly tipping her teacher right out onto the road.

He frowned disapprovingly, but kept quiet. Since he had been discharged from the hospital, Quinn Redtile had taken it upon herself to personally escort him back to the school grounds. But halfway through their journey, she had taken a sudden detour, and though she carted him along at breakneck speeds, she wasn't in any rush to reveal her motives to him.

"I have work to catch up with..." he sighed, wincing as she nearly carted him right into a pile of bins.

"Will you quit whinging about your work for five bloody minutes? It's literally just up ahead!"

Cobalt - as was his wont - tried to retort with the fact that it was a mere couple of days until classes resumed, and he had weeks worth of preparation to get done. But as Quinn skidded to a halt by the entrance of a darkened alley, he cried out and abruptly toppled out of the wheelchair, completely unprepared for such a sudden stop. As he clattered to the ground, his back suddenly twinged, sending shockwaves of pain up along his spine.

"Agh! Quinn! Warn me when you're gonna do that!" the Incubus cried, wincing as he clutched fruitlessly at his back.

"A- Ah! Mr. Trayer!"

A pair of soft green hands gently grabbed him beneath his arms and hoisted him up off the ground. With the assistance of his benefactor, he managed to clamber back into the chair after a moment's struggle.

"Hah... hah... thank you..."

Glancing up, Cobalt saw none other than Jelli standing nervously by his side, lightly touching his shoulders in an effort to check if he was okay. Upon noticing the Incubus' gaze, she sharply withdrew her hands and turned her attention to her shoes.

"Jelli? What are you doing here?" he asked, looking back at Quinn, who just smirked.

The Glutton began to play with the ends of her braids, unwilling to resume eye contact.

"U- Um... we were asked to c- come here."

"We...?"

Craning his neck, he looked farther down the alley to see that the rest of the group had congregated around a rusted metal barrel. Izzbelle leaned against a graffiti-covered wall and tried her best to look disinterested, but he could tell from her occasional glances that the Oni was keeping a close eye on Jelli. Karazelle and Whitney were already in the middle of one of their many arguments and barely seemed to recognise their teacher's presence, while over behind a sizable dumpster, Lottie was cooing and stroking the back of a very large - and very confused - rat that she had somehow managed to catch with her bare hands.

"Quinn? What exactly going on here?" Cobalt asked, watching as the Imp trotted over to her best friend's side.

Pulling a bottle of hand sanitiser from her rucksack, she freed the rat from Lottie's grasp and began to wash the Golem's hands.

"Well, I told you I was researching old customs, right?"

"You did say that, yes."

"That's what we're doing! I found one that's perfect for all of us!"

Over to her left, Karazelle clamped a hand over Whitney's mouth and raised an eyebrow as she peered back at Quinn.

"You told us we were going to throw a surprise for him," she stated, ignoring the muffled cried of indignation from the Nymph as she struggled to free herself.

Shrugging, the Imp stepped over to the barrel and dumped the rest of the hand sanitiser onto it's contents, which appeared to consist mostly of scrap wood and old papers.

"We are, just hold on. Izzy, gimme a light," she requested, snapping her fingers at the sulking Oni.

She bared her teeth in response.

"I don't gotta do shit for you, half-pint," she growled, folding her arms.

"What was it you said two nights ago? 'That fuckin' dumbass doesn't even realise how mu-?'"

Izzbelle suddenly roared loudly, enough to nearly knock poor Jelli off her feet.

"Y- You son of a- Gah! Singi!"

With a snap of her fingers and a wave of her hand, a small sphere of flame burst to life within the barrel, igniting the sanitiser immediately and setting the entire thing ablaze. They all backed away and coughed as a huge puff of smoke enveloped the alleyway.

"Quinn, you better have a good excuse for this!" Cobalt called, covering his mouth as his eyes watered.

Nodding, she got to her knees and began retrieving things from her back; namely several squares of card, a collection of markers, and a number of small sewing needles. Hopping back to her feet, the Imp darted around to her friends, handing one of each item to them.

"I, uh... I don't get it," Whitney mused, rolling her needle between her thumb and her forefinger.

"That's because it hasn't started yet, Butterskin," Karazelle sighed, shaking her head in mock sympathy.

"Quit calling me that... Whoretits!"

"... Really? Is that the best you could come up with?"

Cobalt sighed as a card, marker and needle were passed into his own hands.

"Karazelle, Whitney; please, could you stop fighting for just a few minutes?"

The Nymph puffed out her chest and made to let loose with an adamant "she started it", but upon seeing the pleading look in her teacher's eye, she just sighed and began to kick at the stones on the ground. Karazelle, upon noticing her eternal rival's silent admission of defeat, guffawed and fixed him with a wink.

"Wow, you really do have a silver tongue, sugar. Makes me wonder what else you can-"

"No time for innuendo, Kara; I'm in the middle of something here," Quinn suddenly interrupted, barging past the Succubus as she flipped through a scrappy notebook in her hands.

Clearing her throat, she took a quick moment to confiscate the needle from Lottie's fumbling hands before she began to read from her notes.

"Alright, this is called the Mutov Singi, which is basically a kind of ritual people used to do around the Autumn Festival way back when. You write down a desire on the card, then you prick your finger and seal it whilst promising yourself that you're gonna do everything in your power to to see it happen. Finally, once the blood dried, everyone gives it to someone they trust - the Mutov Sidotsuc - who tosses them into a fire and promises to support everyone in their endeavors. You get me?"

As the group murmured in both understanding and confusion, Quinn turned her attention to Cobalt, eyes wide and hopeful. He returned her smile, quite surprised by how thoroughly she researched this. Indeed, the Mutov Singi was an archaic rite that was barely performed outside of some of Hell's more conservative settlements, but he always thought that it seemed like a lovely little ritual. Of course, her Tongues pronunciation was terrible, and the fire itself was wanting in terms of elegance, but he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity.

"So... we just write what we want on this?" Karazelle asked, tapping the card square.

"Yeah, so get to it," replied Quinn, uncapping her marker with her teeth.

On her mark, the entire group uncapped their own markers and began to ponder about what they wanted. Cobalt himself took a few moments to think before he put pen to paper.

What did he desire out of his future? It was a question that was often asked rather shallowly, and he often found himself giving equally shallow answers; wishing for financial stability or general happiness. But as he sat in that alleyway and pondered his future, Cobalt came to the realisation that he couldn't think of what he wanted out of life in order to be a happier man. A dream job? He already had a teaching position that he studied his rear off for. Lots of friends? He had his students, and they were just as good as friends to him, if not better. Luck with love? He had never given a thought to his romantic life, and certainly didn't plan on starting now.

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Ruminating in silence, the Incubus only came to his senses when he realised that the girls were already sealing their desires. Swallowing hard, he picked up his marker and began to write.

There is nothing I want more than for my students to achieve their dreams, whatever they may be.

He stared at it for a moment, before a small smile crept across his face. Yes, that was it. He just wanted them to be happy.

"You done yet, mate?" Quinn asked, patting Lottie's back as the Golem blubbered and sucked her finger.

"A- Ah, forgive me."

Taking the needle, the Incubus pierced the tip of his index finger, lightly hissing through his teeth as he did so. As the blood began to bead, he pressed it to the card and daubed a pentagram upon its surface; the universal Hellish brand of magic, believed to grant power to words be they written or spoken.

"There. Now, who will be the Mutov Sidotsuc?" he asked with a smile, leaning forward in order to present his card.

They all stared at him. Clearing her throat, Quinn pulled the desires from her friends' hands and placed them in a pile on Cobalt's lap.

"Well, who else but you?" she breathed, giving him an encouraging wink.

Staring at the bloodstained cards, the Incubus looked up at his students with wide eyes. The role of the Mutov Sidotsuc was not to be taken light. But he could see it in each of their eyes, even Izzbelle's. They trusted him with their desires, for one reason or another.

"W- Well... I guess I'd be honoured to to."

Rolling himself closer to the fire, Cobalt took a long look at his own desire before taking a deep breath and tossing it into the flames, where it charred, blackened and crumbled to ash. With a shaking hand, he pulled the second card up to his face. The letters were jagged and coarse, written with no small amount of uncertainty.

I wanna get stronger. Not just for me. But for everything else too. If I can't fight for no reason I guess I wanna fight for something instead. Someone maybe. I think. I dunno. This is fucking stupid. Fuck this.

Despite the crass words before his eyes, Cobalt smiled. Izzbelle, so quick to anger, so slow to forgive. Even during a peaceful ritual of hope, she finds a way to make things tense. But even so, her words seemed genuine to him. Maybe she wasn't going to stop fighting physically, but now that she learned to stay her axeblade from her own throat, perhaps she was willing to find a reason for getting up in arms. A good reason. A righteous reason.

Nodding, he let the card float down into the fire. It took a few seconds to begin burning thanks to the Oni's flame-retardant blood, but once her desire had been burned, the Incubus turned his attention to the next one.

I don't really know what I'm gonna do going forward. Feels like my whole world's been rocked, but I don't mind it. What I want to have friends that I can depend on. Real ones. And honestly, I think I've already found them.

Whitney. She had been through a lot since she finally found the courage to be herself. Since that fateful evening in the bathroom, the Nymph's orbiters and admirers had completely abandoned her, and some had even begun to antagonise her by making fun of her interests or her new sense of style. But Whitney didn't seem to let any of that get her down anymore. And even though she and Karazelle were constantly at each other's throats, Cobalt could tell that in a way, they were the best of friends.

Into the fire it went, crackling and sparking. Taking a moment to take a breath that wasn't saturated with smoke, Cobalt read over the next desire.

i wann evrybodi to be hapy an frenly an nise an good to eechothur cuz mr. traya liks it wen evryon wurks toogethur az a tiem. Aslo i wann quinn to meak me moor milksaykes. ther yumi :)

There was only one person he knew that would put an i in team purely by mistake. Though Lottie wasn't the brightest star in the sky and seemed to stumble into class every day by coincidence, she more than made up for her flaws with her ever-joyous demeanor. She had a strange calming effect on those around her, to the point where nobody could ever get mad at the Golem when she made mistakes. Even Izzbelle held her tongue when it came to Lottie, and honestly, part of Cobalt wondered whether her soothing aura was by design. Perhaps, somewhere in her muddled head, she planned for herself to become the group's stress reliever.

Or perhaps it was all one big happy accident. This was Lottie, after all; the girl has a knack for the unexpected. But as he tossed her card into the flames, the educator within Cobalt briefly took over.

"There's no i in team, Lottie," Cobalt stated half-jokingly.

She cocked her head, causing her cowlick to wobble.

"Then how do teams see?"

"What do you mean 'how do teams see?'"

"There's a c in team?!"

With a defeated sigh, Cobalt just shook his head and left the poor girl to her solve that particular mystery by herself. He looked down at the next card. The pentagram on this one was shaky, as if daubed by a quivering hand. Not only that, but a great deal of the text had been hastily scribbled out, leaving only a few neatly written words.

Ich will glücklich sein

Jelli...

Though her tormentors no longer dogged her every movement and she had finally integrated herself into a group of friends, Cobalt still couldn't shake the feeling that something was up with the Glutton. She cried easily and constantly tripped over herself, and he couldn't help but constantly worry about her. But even so, she was better off now that where she was. Everybody - from Karazelle to Lottie - treated the Glutton with such kindness and sincerity that sometimes she burst into tears simply because she thought she didn't deserve it. As for Izzbelle... There was no denying how close they'd grown. For a woman with a fierce temperament and a bad attitude, to know that she had such a soft spot was honestly quite surprising.

Not that Cobalt was about to bring any attention to it. It had become something of an unspoken rule in the school; don't question why Izzbelle was so protective of her unless you want to pick boot leather from between your teeth for the next month.

The desire card burst into flame and scattered to glowing ash. Giving Jelli an encouraging smile, Cobalt looked at the next one.

There's a lot of things I wanna do, and one specific person I wanna do them to. For example, I want to take his-

"I- I think that's quite enough of that!" the Incubus quickly stammered, flinging the card into the fire.

"Aw, boo! I wrote all that specifically for you, sugar!" Karazelle whined from the other side of the barrel.

He just couldn't count on her to taken anything seriously, could he? Even when he was bedridden in the Brimstone Memorial Hospital, Karazelle still took time out of her day to come and tease her teacher. At first it was just the occasional flirtatious comment or harmless aside, but once she turned up in his room excitedly waving a receipt for a nurse's roleplay outfit, Cobalt had to ask the actual nurses to stop letting her in.

But still... When one looked past her sultry exterior, one found that deep down, Karazelle was a very warm person. She was by his side from his first day, and had never once left it since. As an eclectic group of her fellow students slowly congregated around Cobalt, the Succubus embraced them all and took on a role that he could go so far as referring to as 'motherly'. Sharp-tongued as she was with Whitney and Izzbelle, she still hung around with them when no-one else would, and the Succubus was first in line to welcome Quinn to the school. She treated Lottie and Jelli with the sensitivity they deserve, and Cobalt?

Well... He had to say that he didn't hate her company. Once she got her jokes out and settled down, she was nice to have around the dorm.

"L- Last one...!" Cobalt coughed, realising that he was spending too much time ruminating.

The last desire he held was written in a messy, blockish style.

I think you already know my wishes, so I'll skip that and get to the point. Thought you were kinda wimpy when I first met you, honestly. Still kinda are. But I know you're solid on the inside, blood brother. At first I didn't get why all these birds put their faith in you, but after you took a dive for me and got crippled for it, I think I get it now. So here's to you, Cobalt Trayer; most unlikely geezer to ever earn a Redtile's trust.

The Incubus looked up and smiled at Quinn, who just grinned before returning her attention to the bandage she was putting on Lottie's finger.

She called him a reliable friend, but such statements went both ways. Though Quinn clearly had no respect for authority, the fact that she put her trust in Cobalt really meant a lot to him. It felt good to have someone dependable at his back, and even better that he could call her a best friend.

Glancing down at the scar on his palm, he placed the last desire into the flames and lightly rubbed his hand.

Or better still, a blood sister.

"So... what happens now?" Whitney asked expectantly, gazing deep into the fire.

"That's it. You've all made your promises to achieve your desires, and I've made my promise to help you all get there," the Incubus replied, leaning back in his chair.

Karazelle's eyes lit up.

"Even mine?"

"No."

The group lingered for a while, chatting and laughing as the burning barrel gradually died down. Izzbelle and Jelli were the first to go, claiming that the Glutton had plans to help the Oni with her math homework. Karazelle and Whitney soon followed, bickering all the way. After a brief rest, Lottie began to toddle her way out of the alley, prompting Quinn to rush after her. But before she left, the Imp gave Cobalt a nod.

"Back to normal on Monday, yeah?"

He returned it with a smile.

"I'm looking forward to it."

Finally granted a moment of respite, Cobalt sat quietly in his wheelchair and watched as the embers of the fire smoulder in the bottom of the barrel. They radiated a soothing warmth, but a sudden gust of cold wind suddenly tore through the alleyway, catching the Incubus quite off guard. He turned around to discern the source, only to cry out as a ripped sheet of paper was blown into his face.

"Agh! What the...?!"

Pulling it away, he was puzzled to find himself clutching a damp page that looked as if it had been ripped from a medical chart. A pentagram had been daubed upon it with blood, and it was covered in fingerprints and red stains. There was something else as well; words, written in almost illegible chickenscratch handwriting.

I cannot show myself you, my love, not after what I did. But this matter of making a

WISH? I have desires of my own. For one, I hope

YOU find it in yourself to forgive my mistake. But you must understand that even if I

COULD see through your guise, I would still be hurt. Why? Why seek solace in anybody

SAVE your own loving wife? Why lie? Why hide yourself from

ME so desperately? I wish I knew. But before all, my love, I must atone.

His heart began to thump, and yet felt stilled by the icy grasp of fear. Swallowing hard, Cobalt glanced around nervously for that tell-tale glint of purple and listened for the rustling of cartilege feathers.

But there was nothing, just his own terrified heartbeat and his own shuddering breaths. Looking back at the page, a pang of sympathy suddenly washed over the Incubus.

He tossed Elya's desire into the embers against his better judgement, and turned to leave.