By the time Cobalt reached his destination, his leg was looking pretty bad. His knee was misshapen, his skin was discoloured and steaming blood was flowing freely from multiple wounds, but the Incubus wasn’t paying attention to his injuries. Rather he was gasping for breath, staring at the building before him.
As though directed by some blind, feral influence, he found himself rushing to the top of a hill, hounded by the scream of sirens far behind him. Atop that hill was a school campus, walled off from the rest of the world by ancient brick and wrought iron.
A solid kick, even with a broken leg, was all it took to bust open the gates.
Ancient buildings all around him loomed like monumental gravestones, windows staring down at him like accusatory eyes. The gravel crunched beneath his bleeding feet, but as he peered around at the campus – desperate to glean a single shred of recognition – but the place was completely alien to him.
“Viola… Viola…” he murmured to himself as he approached the largest building in the very centre of the campus.
The doors were locked and the interior was dark, but all Cobalt needed to do was throw himself through the glass to get inside. A small box on the wall began to blare an alarm, but before it could even catch its breath, the Incubus grabbed and ripped it clean off the wall, silencing it. To his left was a receptionist’s desk, to his right and straight ahead were doors leading deeper into the building. But glancing back, he squinted through the darkness to find a stairwell, just out of view.
“Stairs.”
It was easier climbing them in the dream, but Cobalt forced himself onwards, tracking dirt and blood on every step as he gripped the banister for support. His heart hadn’t stopped hammering since the car hit him, and a sharp pain in his chest was beginning to form.
The doors at the top were the same; double, carved from dark ebony. The same words were inscribed above it.
MEPS MENMO ETIUQNILER IUQ CUH SITARTNI
That language… He recognised it. Cobalt couldn’t piece together exactly how, but he knew just what it said.
“Abandon all hope…?” he murmured, squinting at each individual word.
Shaking his head, he threw the doors open and stumbled into the office. It was as he remembered it, save for a few new trophies on the walls. Stuffed animal heads leered down at the Incubus as he trudged his way over to the desk, gasping with every step he took.
His head was throbbing, overwhelmed by the massive influx of new information. Despite the darkness of the unlit office, he could see everything clearly. His ears throbbed in time to the sirens outside, and his nose stung with every breath he took.
Gripping the desk, Cobalt struggled to catch his breath as he looked around frantically.
“Viola… Where are you…?” he breathed desperately, digging his sharp nails into the wood.
They effortlessly cut into it, leaving deep claw marks in its otherwise-pristine surface. Struggling and straining, the Incubus tried to force himself to remember, but all he succeeded in doing was worsening his headache. With an irate growl, he effortlessly hurled the desk aside, smashing the solid wood into splinters against the far wall. Some of the trophies fell to the floor with a clatter.
“Where the Hell are you…?!”
Far behind him, Cobalt heard a metallic click. His entire body froze up as he picked up on the distinct sensation of not being alone. There was someone else here. He could hear their heartbeat. He could smell their breath.
“I’m not in the habit of keeping money locked in the school overnight, so you’re wasting your time up here. Raise your hands and turn around slowly,” commanded a powerful voice from behind him.
It struck a chord with the Incubus, accelerating his heartbeat.
“Viola…” he said through clenched teeth.
“I won’t warn you a second time. I’m legally entitled to incapacitate trespassers so long as I alert the authorities first.”
Off in the distance, the wailing sirens grew louder.
“Though judging by the commotion out there, I’d say you beat me to it.”
“You-”
“Hands. Turn. Now.”
Teeth gritted, Cobalt did as he was told. Hands raised above his head, he slowly pivoted, lifting his face enough to allow the tarp to slip off his head.
There, backlit by the lights from the stairwell, Viola Terna stood in the doorway to her office, dressed in a set of embroidered pyjamas. Even in her nightclothes and with her hair down she still cut quite the imposing figure. She looked different, however; she was wearing a pair of half-moon spectacles, and her hair looked a little greyer. In her hand was a large magnum revolver, and she was pointing it right at Cobalt.
Her eyes widened, and her grip faltered.
“Wh- What…?” she breathed.
His frustration mounting, the Incubus took a step forward, only for the headmistress to shake her head and reaffirm her grip on her gun.
“Stay back!” barked the Succubus barked, her eyes glinting icy-cold.
“You… You must know something!” Cobalt cried, pointing at her.
“You can’t be here, boy… You can’t. You… You died!”
Teeth gritted, he took another step towards her.
“I said stay back, damn you!”
“What do you mean, ‘died?!’”
The look in her eyes was angry and determined, but Cobalt could smell her perspiration from here, and it told him otherwise; she was terrified.
“There’s a plaque for you on the High Street. You died during the Hellbreak Incident. Do you hear me, boy?! You can’t be here!”
“Then explain this-!”
Cobalt took another step forward, and in kind Viola pulled the trigger. The muzzle flash nearly blinded him, and the gunshot was deafening, but both paled in comparison to the intense burning pain in his chest as he was struck square and centre by the bullet. The Incubus toppled back, gasping for breath as his heartrate quickened in response to the trauma.
The pain quickly faded. He reached beneath the tarp with shaking hands to find a crumpled bullet lodged in his skin, still hot from firing. Pulling it free with a grunt, Cobalt clambered to his feet and presented it to Viola.
“Y- You shot me…” he gasped, shaking as his veins glowed.
Swallowing hard, Viola cocked the gun on her hammer.
“I have five more. One of them is bound to penetrate,” she told him, though her wavering voice sounded unsure.
He threw the malformed bullet to the floor with a metallic ping.
“What happened to me? Why are you the only person I remember?!”
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Viola glanced from one eye to the other. She lowered the gun a little.
“What do you… you don’t remember?” she asked, the anger on her face replaced with confusion.
“Not a damn thing! Nothing except you laying into me in the first month of-!”
Cobalt cut himself off. He didn’t know why.
“First month of…” he tried, only for his voice to trail off.
The gun fell to Viola’s side.
“You really remember nothing?”
“How many times do I have to tell you?! Not a fucking thing!”
She flinched and took a step back.
“… I don’t understand. The reports of your death were circulating not that long after Hellbreak. Everyone saw your body. They said you were cremated not long after,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.
“When?” Cobalt asked, feeling his heartrate suddenly spike.
His entire body twinged, his broken leg complaining loudest of all.
“When…?”
“When was this?! When did I die?!”
She didn’t answer.
“Tell me, Viola! Tell me or so help me I will-!”
“Five years ago.”
The words struck Cobalt like a tonne of bricks. He didn’t even understand their true significance, just their sheer weight. He staggered back, trying to find something to lean on for support but failing miserably. His bad leg buckled and he fell to one knee.
“F- Five… years…?”
Painful sparks of electricity coursed through the Incubus’ body as the burning adrenaline that had sustained him up until that point ebbed and drained from his system. The wailing sirens echoed and intensified, all while the muted coloured around him shifted and blurred.
“I don’t… I don’t understand…” he murmured, staring at his hands.
“… I don’t know where you’ve been all this time, boy, but it’s clear that you need to get to a hospital,” Viola said, her voice sounding strangely distant.
“No! No, I’m fine I just… I just need a second to get my bearings,” he gasped, raising a hand.
“I’m afraid that wasn’t a suggestion.”
Glancing up, his heart flinched at the sight of Viola rapidly approaching, her steely eyes glinting with determination. His blood reignited, burning away the uncertainty and causing anger to flare in the pit of Cobalt’s stomach. Reaching behind him, he grabbed a paperweight from the headmistress’ destroyed desk and flung it at her with all of his might.
“Get the fuck away from me!”
She ducked her head as it flew past her, lodging itself deep into the wall and cracking the plaster. Teeth gritted, Viola cocked the hammer of her revolver and pointed it at him.
“I’m trying to help you here, boy. Anyone can see you’re not in the right mind,” she warned, narrowing her eyes.
Standing up, Cobalt began to back away. She was blocking the only exit, the only way out would be to go through her, but something in the back of his mind stopped him from blindly charging. He didn’t want to hurt her.
“The police are already on their way. Either you stay here until they arrive, or I put you down. Your call,” Viola urged.
“No! I need to-!”
“Need to what? You said yourself you don’t remember anything.”
“I- I…”
“Just come quietly, let the doctors take a look at you, and we can get this all sorted out.”
She lowered her weapon a little.
“Please, Cobalt. Despite it all, I do want to help you,” Viola said, her voice just that little bit softer.
No.
He couldn’t let that happen. Five years in a bed while the world just continued without him… even without his memories, the mere thought horrified Cobalt. Who he was, everything he had done; there was no way he’d find any of that out confined to a hospital.
Turning on his heel, he sprinted as fast as he could towards the stained-glass window, his bad leg clicking and grinding with every step he took.
“Cobalt, don’t-!”
Left foot planted flat against the floor, the Incubus crossed his arms in front of his face and propelled himself towards the window as hard as he could, shutting his eyes as he struck the glass. It shattered all around him, the shards biting into the skin of his arms and drawing blood. The cool night air caressed his body as he sailed through the air, and for a moment he felt as though he were flying. But that single instance of tranquility was very quickly replaced by the panic of falling as the wind began to scream in his ears, loud enough to drown out the sirens in the distance.
In a hail of broken wood and shattered glass, Cobalt struck the ground hard, and everything went black once more.
~~~~~
Phrodival’s apiaries were a point of pride for the reclusive town, and as such they were the responsibility of every denizen to curate and maintain. An entire section of the northwestern crater had been dedicated to it, and it was one of the few places that kids weren’t permitted to explore willy-nilly. Cobalt never really understood why; the apiaries looked interesting. Row after row of carefully thatched beehives, interlaced with thousands of different kinds of trees and flowers, each specially chosen to promote honey production. He never understood any of that stuff, but it had to be something special. The honey from Phrodival bees was the best in the world. He had it in his oatmeal in the mornings, and it was his favourite meal of the day.
With his mother away and his sisters each occupied with their own business, Cobalt felt there was nothing better to spend his day doing than exploring the labyrinth of hives, and watch the famed Phrodival bees go about their business. They were fuzzy little purple things with black stripes that lazily bumbled through the air, occasionally bumping into him as he passed beneath the arches of greenery that crisscrossed above his head. They settled on the flowers around and above him, ferrying the nectar to and from the apiaries, each working in tandem to maintain the hive. Cobalt’s teachers told him it took a lot of work to get so many bees to cooperate like this. Apparently inside each of those thatched fortresses was a queen. Looking around, it was like he was lost in a city full of queens.
When he caught sight of the sky between the vines above, he saw that it had darkened considerably. He kind of wished he made note of where the entrance was. He also kind of wished he wore shoes. As warm a day as it was, his feet were beginning to hurt.
He had been wandering in circles for a while now, but he didn’t mind. He was having fun.
“Master Cobalt!” a powerful voice echoed from behind him, startling the young Incubus somewhat.
Uh oh. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Though he kept his mouth shut, the voice rang out once more, sounding closer this time.
“Master Cobalt, I know you’re there! Can you hear my voice?!”
Darn. There really was no getting anything by her.
“I’m over here,” Cobalt conceded with a sigh, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”
A large figure stepped into view; a second-stage woman, though not one typical of Phrodival. While most of the population of Phrodival was made up of Succubi, there were a few exceptions, and Jezebel Trayer’s housemaid was one such exception. She was a sturdily built Oni girl, clad in a neat black dress complete with a white cap and apron. She had a calm, stoic face, her eyes gleaming bright blue as she purposefully strode towards her charge.
“Master Cobalt, we’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she chided, though neither her face nor her voice betrayed much in the way of emotion.
Feeling his cheeks flush, the Incubus looked away, ashamed of his impulsive adventure.
“Thorry Lydia…” he murmured.
She sighed.
“So long as you’re safe.”
“I wath only gone for a little while.”
“It’s been several hours since I last saw you, young master.”
Oh. Time certainly does fly.
“How’d you find me?”
“I followed your footprints.”
Raising an eyebrow, Cobalt looked down at the packed-earth pathway underfoot. Sure enough, he had been leaving a trail of red footprints along the ground behind him. He lifted a foot to find several cuts on the underside, each leaking blood. No wonder his feet hurt so much.
“Oh,” he said aloud, blinking.
Lydia reached into her pocket, retrieving the trusty first-aid kit she always kept to hand.
“We’ll need to get those seen to,” she murmured, getting down onto one knee.
“But it’th only a little thcrape.”
“No buts, young master. Now please take a seat.”
With an overdramatic sigh, the little Incubus plonked himself down on a nearby tuffet, allowing the Oni to lift his foot and begin delicately tending to his wounds. They stung a lot worse when she fiddled with them; he didn’t get why she couldn’t just leave them be.
“It’th not that bad…” he sighed, wincing as she rubbed disinfectant on the biggest cut.
“Be that as it may, all wounds must be treated and tended to, young master. If you leave them, they’ll get infected and you’ll get very, very sick. You don’t want to be sick, do you?” Lydia asked, glancing up at him.
“… No…”
“Then please hold still; I’ll do my best to be gentle.”
As she cleaned the cut, he sucked air between his teeth in and effort to distract himself from the pain, but when he found that it didn’t help, he instead turned to watching the bees buzz all around. They were circling Lydia’s head, a few of them mistaking the tufts of red hair peeking out from beneath her cap for flower petals.
“It’th my birthday neckt month,” Cobalt said as she began to wrap his feet in soft bandages.
“I know,” she responded.
“I’m gonna be theven.”
“I am aware.”
“How old are you, Lydia?”
“It’s impolite to ask a lady her age, young master.”
“Pleathe?”
With another sigh, the Oni finished up her work and packed her first-aid kit away. Reaching for the Incubus, she gently lifted him into her arms and set off on the path back to the apiary’s entrance. Lydia was really strong; he had seen her lift an entire couch with one hand to clean the dust underneath it.
“If it’s what you desire, then very well. I believe I’m around seventeen.”
“Woah. You’re old.”
“Mm.”
With the weight finally taken off his feet, a wave of fatigue suddenly struck the Incubus, causing him to yawn. His eyes drooping, he pressed his head into Lydia’s chest and frowned.
“I mith Mommy…” he murmured.
Sometimes it was just Cobalt and Lydia in the house for weeks at a time. Jezebel’s job was demanding like that.
“I know, young master. It won’t be too long now,” Lydia reassured him, her voice rumbling through her whole body.
“When’th she coming home?”
Lydia thought for a moment.
“Mistress Trayer sent me a letter that shooting will go on for another couple of weeks. But she’ll be done for a good while after that. She sends her love, and I’ve kept her in the loop about everything here. I will have to tell her about this, as well.”
Cobalt laughed sleepily.
“Can you tell her I love her back?” he asked, yawning once more.
“Of course, if that is what you desire.”
His eyes slipped shut as Lydia’s heartbeat and the rhythm of her footsteps lulled him to sleep.
“… I love you, Lydia.”
The Oni let the air out of her lungs slowly.
“You’re most gracious, Master Cobalt.”