Umbral's POV

I lay still in the dimly lit room while pondering over the words Lucifer just said before retiring to bed.

"Umbral," he had whispered, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Do you ever doubt yourself? Do you ever feel like you're not good enough?"

Honestly, the question caught me off guard. Even though I had spent years observing and accompanying Lucifer albeit in the shadows, my existence had been shrouded in mystery for so long, trapped within the confines of this formless body that doubt was not something I was accustomed to, at least not in the way he described.

But then again, my doubts were of a different nature. I doubted the chains that bound me, the memories I couldn't fully grasp, and the questions that remained unanswered. I doubted whether I would ever regain my true form, whether I would ever understand why I was trapped for so long. And doubted...I was even a father for a moment because I had abandoned her for so long.

So, when Lucifer asked me that question, a part of me wanted to laugh, to tell him that doubt was a luxury I couldn't afford. But another part of me, a part that felt strangely humane despite my ethereal nature, understood his question on a deeper level.

"Doubt is a natural part of growth," I had responded, "It's what pushes us to strive for more, to learn and improve. But remember, you are not alone in this journey. I and your parents, everybody believes in you."

It was a lie. The words hung in the air, a bitter taste lingering on my supposedly gooey tongue. Yes, I had told Lucifer what he needed to hear, what he wanted to believe. But deep down, I knew the truth. I didn't believe in him, not entirely. How could I? I couldn't trust anybody, not even myself at times, and yet, Lucifer's presence had always stirred something within me. I couldn't shake off the feeling that he held immense power, a power that transcended the ordinary. His golden eyes seemed to hold secrets untold, and the unique scent that emanated from him was a puzzle I couldn't decipher. It was as if he was the key to unlocking the secrets I had long sought to unravel.

My goal had always been to understand why I had been trapped for so many years, cut off from the world and isolated within this form. How had I lost my true form, the form of a dragon that commanded vast mana and held formidable strength? What had happened all those years ago that led to my current state?

I lay there in the quiet of the night, and as the night wore on, a sense of restlessness settled over me, a restlessness mirroring Lucifer's own turmoil. I watched him from my vantage point, perched atop the nightstand, as he tossed and turned in his sleep. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, his expression contorted in what seemed like a nightmare.

As I watched him, I couldn't help but wonder about the creature he spoke of in his nightmares. Horns and Wings... a sinister presence that haunted his dreams and sparked fear in his eyes. I had heard his whispers in the dead of night, the hushed words filled with a mixture of dread. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" he would murmur, his voice tinged with desperation. He had even confided in me countless times if I knew anything about the being.

"I don't have the answers you want", I said "My knowledge is limited to the confines of the books I have consumed, the snippets of information pieced together like a fragmented puzzle."

Little did Lucifer realize, that I had stumbled upon a glimpse of truth within one of the ancient texts hidden in my cave long ago—a truth veiled in darkness and cruelty.

It was an ancient book, scorched and brittle, its edges curling like the fingers of a wraith reaching out from the past. Upon this fragment were etched cryptic runes and faded glyphs, remnants of a language lost to the ages.

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From what I can remember the book was in a very bad shape, its pages torn and burnt. But, as I pieced together the fragments, I could imagine what kind of a being it was. It spoke of a once-human soul, now twisted and corrupted by the insatiable hunger for power and immortality. The descriptions were vivid in their horror, painting a picture of a being that revelled in destruction and despair—a chronicle of a being that defied the natural order, a creature born of madness and desperation. They possessed powers beyond mortal comprehension, capable of twisting reality itself to suit their whims. A power so destructive that it burnt everything into ashes

The words spoke of a being, a creature of immense power and unparalleled cruelty, whose existence spanned a thousand years and more. A kind that should never have existed in the first place. It was said that he walked the earth like a shadow, leaving nought but ash and ruin in his wake. His thirst for power knew no bounds, and in his pursuit of eternal life, he set fire to the very fabric of reality, consuming all in his path, including himself.

The missing parts of the texts were a frustrating barrier, preventing me from fully understanding the extent of this being's atrocity. Yet, even in their fragmented state, the writings painted a grim picture of this being that would stop at nothing to achieve its goals, no matter the cost to others.

But what intrigued me the most, what sent shivers down my non-existent spine, was the connection between these beings and the events that had led to my own imprisonment. Could it be possible that the horned and winged being played a role in my downfall, in the loss of my true form and abilities?

The thought gnawed at me, a gnawing hunger for answers that remained elusive.

The night stretched on, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of sheets as Lucifer shifted in his sleep. I debated whether to intervene, to offer comfort or reassurance, but a part of me hesitated. I couldn't help but muse over the complexities of our existence. My daily life, if one could call it that, revolved around assisting Lucifer in his studies, offering occasional insights, and indulging in moments of playful banter. But beneath the surface, there was a constant undercurrent of uncertainty and curiosity.

What was my purpose in this form? Why did I possess the ability to sense emotions and understand the complexities of mana, yet remain trapped in this seemingly insignificant state?

Here was a boy of only eight years, yet there was an air of mystery about him that I couldn't quite decipher. Despite calling him "master," I couldn't bring myself to fully trust him. His golden eyes held secrets untold, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye.

Why did Lucifer keep seeing that ancient being from the scorched pages of the book in his dreams? I wonder. It was as if the creature haunted his subconscious, a spectre of unimaginable power and cruelty. Perhaps it was a warning, a glimpse into a past or future that held dangers beyond our comprehension.

The very idea sent chills down my spineless form. The being from the ancient book was no ordinary creature; it was a manifestation of darkness, a symbol of chaos and destruction.

As I watched Lucifer wrestle with his dreams, I observed silently, my thoughts drifting between the mysteries of our past and the uncertainties of our future. The faint light of dawn began to filter through the window, casting a soft glow in the room. Lucifer's nightmares seemed to subside, replaced by a peaceful stillness that settled over him.

He stirred awake, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his expression etched with the remnants of a nightmare. I greeted him with my usual cheerful demeanour, masking the deeper contemplations that had occupied my mind throughout the night. "Good morning, Master," I chirped, hoping to alleviate any lingering traces of his restless sleep.

Lucifer blinked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Umbral," he muttered, his voice still heavy, "Did I... was I having another nightmare?"

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, Master. But it seems to have passed now. Perhaps it was just a fleeting moment of unease."

Lucifer's brows furrowed slightly as he processed my words, his gaze distant as if trying to grasp the fragments of his dream that were slipping away. "I keep seeing... things," he murmured, almost to himself. "A being with horns and wings, surrounded by fire. It's like... like he's searching for something, something important."

For now, as the first rays of dawn bathed the room in light, I offered Lucifer a comforting smile. "Don't worry, Master," I said softly. "Whatever nightmares may come, you will never face them alone."