"Uh..." Alexander uttered into his cell phone as he stared up at a grand mansion. "Did Anastasia say this was okay? It would make more sense for her to get her notebook another day, no?"

"She said it was fine. Just show up and ring the doorbell."

Alexander furrowed his eyebrows. "What if someone else is home?"

"Oh, yeah, her grandparents are there. But don't worry, they're lovely people."

The person on the other side of the phone was Lumiel Solaire.

"Yeah, but... This still makes no sense. Anastasia left her notebook at your house weeks ago. You gave it to me. And now... I have to give it to her?"

"Yep." Lumiel smiled. "To be fair, you didn't exactly have to, but you're already there anyway. Plus... I kind of gave it to you on accident. I thought it was yours."

Alexander took in a deep breath. "That makes sense."

"Okay, that's kind of insulting."

"You did admit to it, though."

Lumiel remained silent. "Anyway, have fun," she said. She hung up within the same second.

And with that, Alexander spat out a heavy sigh.

It was already a day after the whole ordeal that came with waking up in a prison.

To put it simply, Alexander was free.

Legally, he couldn't be detained until there were official charges done under an official procedure and all. The only reason he was imprisoned was because he lost consciousness with his transformation.

Alexander was free. But only for the time being.

Xerxes' words still echoed in his head. 'Things will get way worse.'

The thought of that was something Alexander was used to. Even then... He couldn't deny the fear it brought. Especially now. In these circumstances, any of the Virtues or even his own family could be caught up in the troubles that came with what Alexander did.

For now, all he could do was focus on pushing those thoughts away and fixate himself on his mission.

That is, to give Anastasia a notebook.

At the very least, it was something to ease his mind. The sights before him were so grand, they were all he could see. And through that, all he could think about.

It was an old, gothic mansion. The entire property size was massive, so much so that even from 15 yards from the iron black gates, he felt as if he were trespassing.

Still, he kept approaching the house. Because apparently... That was where Anastasia lived.

It was practically a palace. Three stories tall and built of stone and grey bricks. Grand windows and pointed arches could be seen from a distance, letting in plenty of sunlight underneath the stone.

Columns and pillars adorned the facade, building into geometric ornaments of windows of glass circles and carved designs of stone. Even flying buttresses stood on each end, holding support for the towers and spires that surrounded the grand home.

Of course, that was all behind meter-long rows of trees and flowers, gardened plants and trimmed shrubs.

Alexander was already afraid to see what the backyard would look like.

He approached the tall iron bars of the black gate. Directly across the center of the house, two giant pillars of stone bricks stood.

Alexander was standing next to one of them, noticing the black box

Right next to the few

He pushed the button. "Um... Hi."

Without delay, a voice peered through the intercom system and asked him: "Who are you?"

Alexander leaned into the microphone, just as he cleared his throat. "I'm Alexander Lane. I just need to drop something off for Anastasia."

He was met with silence.

"...She lives here, right?"

More silence.

Alexander shrugged and grabbed the door handle on the gate. It was unlocked. And as soon as he opened it, the front door ahead opened as well.

It revealed an old man, dressed in cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, brightened with the floral patterns of blue and yellow. He sped over to Alexander, just as Alexander was still taking his first steps onto the brick pavement.

He stared at the old man.

That man was anything but frail. By his face, Alexander judged he was at least 70, likely in his mid-seventies. But... His body did not belong to someone of that age. He was inches taller than Alexander and unnecessarily muscular.

He was strong. Clearly strong, as if he was a retired wrestler or bodybuilder. Or rather, someone who was previously a warrior.

However, there was no imposing pressure coming from the man. His magic energy was small, his aura not bright at all. But it was warm. Dense and strong, his power had been forged over his long life, and Alexander knew it wasn't anything to scoff at.

And as strange as it was, Manuel Schwarz held out with a bright face.

He was pale-skinned and dark-haired, although that hair had already begun turning grey. His eyes were fine and dark, almost of ebony, just like Alexander's.

Even then, Alexander couldn't deny how similar he seemed to Anastasia. She really took after him, it appeared.

"You must be Alexander Lane!" he said with a grand smile as Alexander shook his hand.

"...Uh, yes. Yes, that's me. You're Anastasia's grandfather, yes?"

"Manuel Schwarz. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Alexander."

He swallowed his dry saliva as Manuel greeted him and led him inside. Alexander wasn't afraid or anything. It was just... He was meeting Anastasia's grandfather.

One wrong word and the entire first impression went down the drain. As they walked against the marble walkway and up the steps into the mansion, Alexander paused and thought to himself.

'Wait, why am I so nervous about why my friend's grandfather thinks about me?'

Just after Manuel opened the wooden door to his home, he immediately bellowed out with a grand smile on his face.

"Hanna! Another of Anastasia's friends is here!"

An old woman sped through the corridor before them, her quick steps echoing on the creaking wooden panels beneath her.

She grabbed Alexander by his shoulders and leaned her head near his face. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, their eyes beginning to meet.

Her eyes were blue, but far from light. They were electric blue, just like lightning. Just like the exact, dark shade of Anastasia's lightning. She was just as pale as her granddaughter, her hair silver-grey, already without its original blonde color.

"You're Alexander Lane! Right?!" she cried out with a grin. She lifted her hands from his shoulders and wrapped her arms around him. "Ah, we've heard so much about you! Thank you for keeping our Anastasia safe for so long. It must've been difficult over on Vanaheim."

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Alexander awkwardly patted Hanna's back while she held him. "Well..." he muttered. "It was more of her keeping me safe, y'know," Alexander said with a light laugh. "I'm the one that's always getting hurt."

Hanna parted herself from him and stared into his eyes again. "Would you like something to drink? Some coffee?"

Alexander clenched his jaw in confusion and anxiety. "Yeah, sure," he muttered, his eyebrows reflexively furrowing ever so slightly.

'Why are they so kind to me? I'm only here to give Anastasia a damn notebook!'

In only a matter of minutes, Alexander found himself seated at a round table in their kitchen and holding onto a green mug filled of coffee.

He took a sip from the mug. It wasn't poisoned.

Maybe it was because they seemed too much like such regular humans. Or maybe it was because they acted like nothing like Anastasia's cold and reserved self, but...

Alexander was utterly confused by their kindness.

Even in that confusion, he kept drinking more and more of the steaming drink. "Damn, that's good," he muttered.

"You think so?" Hanna asked him. "I'm glad."

Alexander gently set down the mug and cleared his throat "You...".

They both turned to him.

"You guys know I'm a Demon-Born, right? Like, I'm literally descended from a demon."

Manuel took another sip. "Yeah," he said, setting his mug down for a second. "We also know about what you did two days ago. We saw it on the news." Another silent sip.

"Manuel!..." Hanna whispered at him with a glare.

He turned to her with confusion. "What? It's true." Manuel paused. "Oh, right. I shouldn't have worded it like that, now should I?"

Manuel cleared his throat. "We know about what you are. Anastasia's told us about you plenty of times. And when she saw what happened, she made it clear to us. It wasn't you. Anastasia isn't the type to lie, anyway. The way she defended you, and the way she understood what was really happening... We believe her."

He repeated, "It wasn't you."

"Like I said," Manuel continued. "Anastasia's told us a lot about you. So we know." He raised his mug to the ceiling, before bringing it back down and drinking from it. "You're a good kid. And now that you're standing right in front of me, I can confirm it for myself. Don't you agree, Hanna?"

Hanna nodded and smiled at Alexander. "You've got kind eyes." Still, she paused, glancing at the floor for a second. "But... the world hasn't been kind to you, has it?"

Alexander froze as their eyes met. But before he could speak, footsteps rang out from above. Alexander turned around to the staircase and was met with the sight of Anastasia Velda.

She stood at the top of the staircase as she stared down at them all. Her initial reaction:

"Alexander, what are you doing here?"

Alexander stared back at her. He had lost count of how many times it had happened, but he had gotten lost in her beauty, for only a second.

He found that feeling strange. She was sick. Her ebony hair was tied back, and just as she did for over half the time, she was dressed in all black. Black shorts and a simple black hoodie with a single white rectangle at its center, the same hoodie she gave to Alexander all those months ago. The same hoodie she has a dozen of.

But he still couldn't deny that random beating in his chest.

Alexander reached into his bag on the floor and pulled out a single notebook. "You left it at school like a week ago. And Lumiel said you needed it."

Anastasia crossed her arms and climbed down the stairs. She took one glance at the notebook in Alexander's hands.

"...Dude, this isn't even mine."

"...Wait, seriously?"

She nodded.

A defeated sigh left his lips, his head drooping over in the same instant. He still held the notebook up, just as he raised his head again and put the notebook away. "So..." he muttered as their eyes met. "How are you doing? Feeling better?"

"Well... My throat isn't killing me. Plus, no fever or sneezing, so... Winning."

Alexander couldn't help but smile at that.

That smile burst away with confusion with an unexpected switch of languages. Hanna spoke to Anastasia in German.

Manuel grinned at Alexander in reassurance.

Alexander only nodded back. He remembered the one time when Anastasia met Carmen. A discourse in Spanish ensued, so... He only guessed it was normal, at this rate.

"Take him to your room, Anastasia. You can't just kick him out when he traveled all this way to see you."

"No. That's weird," Anastasia claimed. "Besides, he used a transporter."

"It's rude if you don't. Besides," her grandmother taunted. "Don't you like him?"

Anastasia furrowed her eyebrows. "What? No. Where'd you hear that from?"

"Lumiel."

She clenched her jaw. And before long, another sigh left her lips. Anastasia turned to Alexander and tugged on the back of his shirt. "Come with me."

And so, Alexander had to leave behind his coffee as he trailed after Anastasia up the stairs.

Much unlike anything Alexander expected, Anastasia's room was stark white. Everything blue and black was enveloped and enclosed around that pale-painted wood.

She shut the door behind them and quickly threw herself onto a beanbag chair.

"So about my grandparents. Ignore them. They're weird."

"To be fair, you say that about everyone. They're kind."

Anastasia spat out a sigh. "Yeah, that's true. So... Anything you wanna talk about?"

"I literally don't know," Alexander responded, alongside a forced chuckle. "I'm just here to give you a notebook that's not yours."

It was then that a single thought struck them both. They were both painfully awkward with each other, even with a vast number of things happening in each of their lives. The war, the demons, even school.

"Oh!" Anastasia said aloud, remembering the trial Alexander would soon undergo. As soon as she processed the thought, she realized that was not the right reaction.

She waited a handful of seconds until she spoke again, even as Alexander stared at her in confusion.

"...So about the trial. How are things going on that end? You're really just free to go?"

Alexander shrugged. "For now, I guess. They gotta figure some legal stuff out and then I'll be in custody again."

"Until the trial ends, right?" Anastasia asked.

"If the trial ends in my favor," Alexander said with a laugh. "If not, I'll be dead."

She stared at him. "That's not something to laugh about."

Again, Alexander smiled and shrugged. "I'm sure it'll be fine. If it isn't, then it'll only be a problem for a day or two."

Anastasia's dull gaze remained. "You really don't care about your own life, do you?"

The Demon-Born paused. "I do care. It's just... There's no point in worrying. Even if I do die... I know my mom and Emilia will be fine. Fear won't help anything."

He stared out the window. "Where are your parents anyway?" he asked, upon the mention of family. "I don't think I've seen them or heard about them."

Alexander froze. He had never thought of it aloud. But as soon as he did, he realized why Anastasia had never mentioned them. "Oh... Sorry, I-"

"It's fine," Anastasia spat out with a sigh. "It was almost a decade ago. But yeah. They're dead." She shrugged and stood up.

"It's like you always say," she said, pointing at Alexander. "It happens."

"What... happened to them?" Alexander managed to ask.

Usually, Anastasia would lie. 'An accident.' That was usually enough to shut down the conversation. That's even what she did with Lumiel, all those years ago when they first met. Of course, she later told the truth. But with Alexander...

There was no point in lying, now was there?

"Remember when the Union annexed Algeria?"

Alexander nodded. "Yeah. And the Kingdom of Africa didn't do anything about it."

"Yeah, it was a mess," she said with a light chuckle. "Anyway, my father was one of the diplomatic department heads in the Union, specifically in Germany. So they sent him there to help handle pretty much everything. He left me in Germany with my grandparents so I wouldn't have to go, but he went with my mom. And three months later..."

"The revolt."

Anastasia nodded again. "Practically everyone associated with the Union was killed. Couple thousand civilians too."

"I understand," Alexander uttered.

He didn't ask for any more details. He didn't say sorry, or any of the comments Anastasia hated.

'That must be so hard on you.'

'You have my regards.'

'My condolences.'

'I'm sure they're in a better place.' That was always the worst to hear.

Anastasia appreciated not having to hear any of those for once. It was as if Alexander truly understood. 'Well...' she realized.

He did understand grief. He did understand loss. Alexander had faced that death before, and he understood what mattered was listening. The only thing that helped was moving- Moving forward.

Alexander gently placed his palm over Anastasia's head. With a slight pat, his hand gently ruffled the hair atop her head.

She looked up and stared at him in confusion. "...Dude, did you just pat my head?"

He stared back in his own confusion. "Sorry," he muttered, retracting his hand. "It just works with Emilia, so..." He shrugged and silenced himself.

"Sorry," Alexander repeated.

Anastasia shook her head. "No, it's... it's fine. It wasn't that bad."

Their eyes met.

Alexander opened his mouth and began to speak. "This is gonna sound weird but... Can I see your backyard?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Dude-"

They both froze and spun to the door.

Behind it...

Anastasia stared. "That's spatial magic."

Behind that door was a Connection, already formed and connecting between spaces.

The door burst open and half a dozen men in armored gear charged in.

They were dressed in all black, with dark armor over their bodies and helmets over their heads. Their faces were masked, and their eyes hidden behind tinted goggles. Even their hands and fingers were blocked out by gloves.

No sign of skin. No sounds in their breathing. No eyes to meet.

The exact same as those he met a year ago. And again, just as it did with the single sight of Raymond Matthews, his hateful memories washed over him. He grit his teeth.

But even in his anger... There was nothing to be done. He unclenched his jaw and let out a heavy exhale with it. Alexander raised his hands to the air.

With that, an officer knocked Alexander to his knees and pushed him to the floor. Once again, chains were wrapped against his wrists. And just as Anastasia stared, another officer grabbed her wrists and handcuffed her.

"Really?! You're seriously restraining her, too?!" Alexander shouted out.

The officer yanked Alexander up to his feet while another pressed coordinates into a transporter. All the while, each of the men remained silent.

A hollow ring of magic burst into existence, just before Anastasia's window.

The two Virtues remained silent and stared at each other.

Just as they pushed Anastasia into the Connection... Manuel sped into the room.

Her grandfather held a wand. It was nothing like Anastasia's. Her's was blue and golden, glimmering and shining in the sun, combined with its ornate design and carvings of magic and energy. Manuel's was...

A wand. A stick of brown wood, protruding past the grip of his large hands. But it was already dense in energy. Blue electricity had already begun to crackle around the tip as he aimed it at the officers.

The officer aimed back with rifles, three of them quickly turning to him and readying themselves.

A heavy breath left his lips, dense frost leaving with it. "Blitz..." he began to utter.

"Mister Schwarz!" Alexander called out, interrupting his focus and drawing his gaze.

"It's alright. She'll be fine. I can promise you that so..." Even with his hands tied around his back, he forced a smile onto his face. "There's no need to worry."

Manuel lowered his wand, letting out another heavy breath. "Keep her safe, Alexander."

It was then that they shoved Alexander into the Connection. Still, his words managed to echo into Manuel's ears.

"I will."