It was the Winter Festival. A day where demons would return from far-flung lands to the hometowns of their births in order to reconnect with family and friends, help prepare for the coming of the new year, and partake in a feast that even Gluttons would have a hard time finishing. It was a show of the will to live; to eat and make merry even as the deep snow outside threatens to freeze and kill everything it touches.

Cobalt had a hard time remembering the last real Winter Festival celebration he had attended. Even though he was born in Brimstone, his family always returned to Phrodival for the festivities, though he hadn't been there since that fateful day in the Undercroft. He figured it would be difficult to share a drink with his grandmother when the last time he had tea with her she stabbed him with a paralytic needle.

The Incubus sat in the empty common room of the boys' dorms, staring at the inert TV in the corner. Nearly everyone had left for the holidays, plunging the entire building into a deep, eerie silence. He appreciated a little peace and quiet just as much as the next person, but with no-one around it was just off-putting.

It didn't help that the populace of B.I.D. had been keeping their distance of late. Most students had already heard about Whitney, and even the biggest, most diehard supporters of the Iron Hound found it difficult to stomach the news of what had happened to her. It seemed most had bought into what the papers were peddling; that Cobalt Trayer had eaten the flesh of his own student.

Glancing out the window, he looked up at the building opposite him. The girls' dorms were just as dark and quiet as the boys', if all the darkened windows were anything to go by. Izzbelle had left abruptly once school ended, due to her having to travel to a different city-state to use their Jump Gate so she could spend her Winter Festival in New York. Apparently her family alternated between Inferno and the human city every year, as some kind of celebration of the unification of the two crime families. Jelli went with her for the first leg of the journey, before she was to meet up with her stepbrother and carry on to Frankfurt. As for Lottie and Quinn, the Imp had received permission to spend the holidays with her girlfriend over in the Sunmos Sect monastery, much to their joint excitement.

And Whitney... He heard that she had been discharged, but was immediately sent home. With a lot of physio and recovery, it was going to be a while before she returned to school. Cobalt was just thankful that she had decided not to drop out, and opted to have her assignments mailed to her home.

Only Karazelle remained on campus, but the Succubus seemed unusually low. Cobalt didn't see much of her, and any time he did, she didn't speak with him for long. He had a feeling as to why. Mistress Viola was still working, even when most of the staff were away for the holidays.

"Kid?" Lilith asked, unable to bear the silence.

"Mm?"

"You okay?"

It was strange of her to ask that. Ever since she dumped the secrets of life and death upon Cobalt's head, the Devil had been quite restrained in her intrusion upon his life.

"Sort of. You?"

"Sort of."

"Ah."

The silence dragged on.

"Shall we go for a walk?" Cobalt queried aloud.

"Why are you asking me? Do what you want."

"Just thought I'd ask."

Standing up, he pulled on his coat and picked his scarf up off the arm of the couch, stopping for a moment as he rolled his thumbs across the fabric. It was a gift from Karazelle.

Cobalt hoped she was doing okay.

Stepping outside, Cobalt shivered as he trudged through the snow, marveling at the frozen wasteland that the B.I.D. campus had become now that most of it's population had left. Even most of the housekeepers and caretakers had given up and gone home, leaving the paths unshoveled and the gutters filled with ice and snow.

"Is that...?" Lilith murmured, drawing Cobalt's attention to a figure standing in the middle of the path.

He squinted through the morning mist hanging low over the campus. There, standing barefoot with snow up to her ankles, was Elya. She was dressed in the spare clothes that Azul had given her, and she was staring up at the silhouette of the old Science building.

"What's going on with her now...?" Cobalt sighed, bundling up and marching on through the snow.

She didn't stir as he approached, and continued to stare into the distance when he reached over and shook her shoulder.

"Elya? Sweet hellfire, you're freezing..." he breathed, balking at just how cold she was.

Her face was stony and unmoving, though Cobalt would have considered that normal had he not seen her eyes. Glassy and glazed, almost grey in colour. He couldn't help but feel like something was terribly wrong with her, but he simply had no idea how to help her.

"Lights on, no-one home," Lilith mumbled.

Cobalt couldn't deny it; it looked like that was exactly the case. It was like Elya was just... hollow on the inside.

"Hey kid? Could you do me a favour?" the Devil asked.

"Can it wait until I get her inside?" he answered, taking her by the hand.

Her arm was limp and listless, but she refused to budge. Elya kept staring at the building, her eyes occasionally twitching.

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"It'll only take a second. Could you just take a look at that dagger she's always carrying?"

Frowning, the Incubus glanced down. The handle of that black iron dagger jutted out of the pockets of the Fallen's borrowed cardigan. It made him uneasy just looking at it.

"Whatever for?"

"Just... trust me."

He sighed. Though Cobalt couldn't rightly say he trusted her just yet, he decided to humour her. Lifting his arm, he reached over to grab Immoderata's handle-

- only for Elya to swiftly grab his wrist, her cold, thin fingers almost breaking his wrist. Cobalt cried out and tried to free himself, but was met only by an empty gaze.

"... No. Not you. My..." she breathed in a low tone.

She took a deep, laboured breath.

"... love..." Elya concluded, letting go of Cobalt's hand.

Before he could react, she took a step back and incanted a spell beneath her breath, causing her to disappear in the blink of an eye. Rubbing his wrist, the Incubus watched as footprints appeared by themselves in the snow, only to abruptly stop as the invisible Fallen took wing.

"Shit. I'm going to need a closer look," Lilith swore.

Cobalt didn't answer. He just deepened his frown and stared at the footprints all around him.

"What's happening to her...?" he mused.

"I have a theory, but I can't really say until we get our hands on that knife."

"Why? What is it?"

"Just... I don't know for certain yet. Just a hunch. Trust me, alright?"

Staying quiet, Cobalt shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking down the path, eyes glued to the ground.

It wasn't that he didn't want to trust Lilith, it was that he couldn't find any good reason to. The Devil had been nothing but unforthcoming up until recently, and even now he felt like there was a lot she was hiding from him. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised that she probably had good reason to. This whole "Chain" thing, with all its implications... it went way over his head. Whatever it was, it clearly impacted Lilith and the other Devils greatly. If she genuinely believe that absconding with the Iron Artillery was the best option for all of demonkind, then surely he was in no position to argue?

Still, he didn't feel comfortable in any shape or form. Even now, with the Alpha Corps subdued.

There was still one member to go, and Lilith wasn't willing to discuss them in any shape or form.

"Eyes up. Nine o'clock," the Devil told him, her perception once again trumping his.

As he passed in front of the main school building, Cobalt glanced to his left to see Mistress Viola standing in front of the doors, bundled up in a thick fur coat as she spoke to someone he couldn't quite see.

He lowered his head. He had been avoiding his employer as much as he could; she still hadn't quite forgiven him for snapping back at her that day.

But with a flick of her tail, the Headmistress turned on her heel and called out to him, her sharp gaze missing nothing.

"Good timing, boy," she called, folding her arms.

Wincing, Cobalt slowly turned to face her.

"Um... do you need me for something, miss?"

"Yes. Come here."

Though a part of him wanted to keep up his act of reckless defiance and disobey, Cobalt gritted his teeth and slowly trudged over to the front steps of the school. The man next to Mistress Viola was a smartly-dressed Nymph, his hair and goatee slicked back with wax even despite the cold weather. He politely nodded at Cobalt, though he couldn't figure his expression due to the sunglasses he was wearing.

The Incubus pulled a face. He seemed familiar...

"I was just about to send for you. Now, I believe you two are already acquainted...?" the Headmistress said, raising an eyebrow.

Cobalt glanced over at the man, struggling to remember where he had seen him again. Noting the look on the Incubus' face, he adjusted his bowtie and bowed gracefully.

"Gulliver Terah, butler of the Brode estate. I've had the pleasure of corresponding with you last year at the Parent-Teacher Meeting," he explained in a practiced tone.

Cobalt's eyes widened.

"Oh, I remember now!"

His cheeks burned as he remembered the little outburst he had in front of the butler, and the personal request he gave Cobalt before he left.

"I... think I might know why you're here..." he added, his voice trailing away into a mumble.

"Right you are, sir. I'm here at the request of Mistress Juliet Brode."

Cobalt frowned. It seemed that the Brodes were still of two minds when it came to their opinion of the Incubus. Here Juliet was, sending a butler to greet him while her husband had paid corrupt police officers to try and get him jailed.

"Well, Mr. Terah, you have your man. Do deliver my message to Charles when you see him," Viola state, turning around and marching back into the school.

"Of course, Mistress Viola. If you'd be so kind to follow me, Mr. Trayer...?" Gulliver asked, opening his arm out and gesturing to the gates of the campus.

Raising an eyebrow, Cobalt walked alongside the Nymph as tracked through the snow. Thankfully, someone had already cleared the worst of it away.

"I would first like to offer the Brodes' sincerest thanks for the rescue of Miss Whitney. We are indebted to you," the butler told him as they trudged towards the gates.

"I- I appreciate it, but... I don't think I really deserve your praise, considering how things turned out..." Cobalt replied with a frown.

Gulliver shook his head.

"Regardless, had it not been for you, Miss Whitney would not have received medical attention in time."

"But-"

"Rest assured that she has told us her side of the story, and we are more than inclined to believe her. Neither I nor my betters believe you committed any of the heinous acts written about in the newspapers."

A pit opened up in Cobalt's smouldering stomach. For one, he wasn't sure that Charles Brode was entirely convinced of his innocence. For two, not even Whitney knew the full story of what happened in that basement...

"They wish to invite you to a celebratory Winter Festival dinner, Mr. Trayer. I am to drive you to the house forthwith."

Stepping out through the front gates, Gulliver guided Cobalt over to a fancy black car parked by the curb.

"Wait, seriously?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course. Mistress Juliet wished to thank you in person."

Looking around, Gulliver sighed and pulled off his sunglasses. His eyes glinted amber in the sunlight.

"Besides, I think Whitney could do with your support right now. You've been nothing but a good influence on her, and right now she needs someone outside of the family she can trust," he added in a much less professional tone.

He kicked a clod of snow off the side of the curb.

"I won't lie to you, Cobalt. She's not in a good place right now. Everything I've done to help her come out of her shell... It might all be for nothing. I just..."

Taking a deep breath, the butler wiped his eyes. It was strange, watching his professional façade just crumble away, but in a weird way, Cobalt understood where he was coming from.

"I know you're probably not thrilled about meeting with Charles. But even if that turns you off, I must ask you to come to this dinner. For Whitney's sake, if nothing else."

Taking a deep breath, the Incubus nodded his head.

"I understand. This must have been tough on you."

Gulliver chuckle. He had an oddly lyrical laugh.

"I'm a graduate of the Suvres Attendant's Academy, Mr. Trayer. Tough times are my bread and butter. But I appreciate what you're trying to say."

Opening the car door for Cobalt, he gestured for him to take a seat inside. The Incubus sat bolt-upright on the refined leather seating, terrified that the mere act of breathing would sully the expensive vehicle's pristine insides.

Getting into the driver's seat, Gulliver adjusted the mirror so his amber eyes glinted back at Cobalt.

"Last year I asked you to keep Whitney smiling, no matter what. Consider this an extension of my request, alright?"

The Incubus nodded.

"Of course."

Gulliver grinned as he put his sunglasses back on.

"Capital. Sit back and relax; we'll be at the Brode house before long."