The Demon Queen Wants To Live.

It was flame and muscle that threw the door open. My eyes were open in an instant and I was sitting up at the same time Ash was. She reached for her sword, I reached for the Requiem. The flame tinged the room in orange for a second, and I felt the heat of it against my skin. It vanished a second later, and in its place stood a girl.

She was the short red-haired girl I had seen when the Inker had been leading us to this room. Her jaw was set, her dark eyes glared across the room, and she was folding her arms. Yellow trails went up her arm, branching but not forming any shape in particular. She had a Sigil. There was one more oddity I noticed. While most of the students had worn the same grey garment, hers was just slightly different. The collar was yellow.

“Ren! Seriously! At least knock first!” Another voice at the door said, and there stood a taller girl, who somehow seemed shorter from the slump of her shoulders. Her hair was long and blue, a deep blue that fell past her shoulders.

The color of their hair caught most of my attention.. Red and blue -not colors that any human from my time would have had. I knew what that meant. Both of these girls were Demonbloods then. The anger inside me shifted at that. I let go of the Requiem. Ash had already settled back into her bed.

The red haired girl -Ren- was studying us, and her expression was so plain even I could read it. She was frowning, arms folded and her soot-covered nose tilted slightly up, though she couldn’t have looked down on anyone. “I knew it. We really do have another half-demon at the academy.” Ren’s gaze went from my horns all the way to my feet, and then back up again. “Guess you kind of look like her enough. Even have the same frown and everything.” Then she paused, her eyes narrowing. “So you’re the one….” She mumbled to herself.

“You,” she said, louder now, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You’re the one Master Aldric brought in. A new special student.” She pointed her other hand over at Ash, who had only moved enough to sit up straighter. “And you’re the other one!” She said, her voice growing louder still. “Half the students have been talking about it for hours! Two strangers walk in off the road and get assigned special status on their first day. You two are even living by yourself in this nice little room. I’ve been here for two years and all I get is a closet!”

She took a breath. Her Sigil flickered on her arm, and as it did, wisps of yellow-orange flame trailed her skin. There and gone again. “And now they’re telling me to show you around tomorrow. Me! A Sigil...playing tour guide for a couple of completely fresh faces. They told me you just had Lines!”

I ignored her words. Instead, I glanced past her and at the doorframe. The wood around the latch was scorched black where her flame had struck it. Martha would have wept. “Do you make a habit of destroying doors,” I said, “or is this a special occasion?”

The girl’s chin rose. She was shorter than me by half a head. Her red hair was cut roughly and unevenly, as though whoever had done it had done it in the dark. Her jaw was set. “I didn’t destroy the door, I opened it, actually.”

“You opened it…with fire.”

“It was stuck.”

It had not been stuck. Ash, still on the far bed, let out a slow breath through her nose that sounded very much like she was trying not to laugh. The Hero had evidently decided this particular confrontation was beneath her involvement.

The other girl stepped through the ruined doorway behind Ren. She surveyed the room warily, her gaze drifting from the scorched frame to us and then, slowly, settling on her friend. “Ren,” the blue-haired girl said. Her voice was flat. “You said you were just going to knock.”

“I did knock, they didn’t open it! So I just knocked again, but this time, with emphasis!”

“That was arson.”

“It was a greeting,” Ren insisted. She sounded one step away from pleading.

The blue-haired girl looked at me. It was an odd gaze. I was used to animosity and fear. After Hamel, I was used to…gentler things. This gaze was neither of those. It was simply bored. “My name is Edda,” she said. “Sorry about the door.”

Ren looked back at her grudgingly, before clicking her tongue. I looked at Edda’s arms before I could stop myself. It was starting to become a reflex in this world, the way scanning for mana signatures had been in the last. Edda’s right forearm bore a single Line. It was a strange mark. A pale blue that shifted into red and back again. I had never seen its like before.

Still, she was at Line. One full stage below the red-haired girl and her Sigil and yet from the one glance between them, I could tell their relationship was not as simple as the stronger being the master and the weaker being the subordinate. How curious.

I did not say anything. Ren was staring at my arms. My sleeves covered my marks, but the girl’s eyes bore into the fabric anyway. “Show me,” Ren said.

“No.” I rose from the bed, and folded my arms. I do not show what is mine on command. This girl could not force me to my knees as the old man had. She could barely warm the air. Her mark flared. The trails of her mark lit up, and I felt the heat of it from across the narrow room.

I found that I could not quite muster the contempt I wanted. My gaze kept fixing on her red hair, though I did not mean for it to. “You have a Sigil,” I said. “It is a Primal, correct? One that lets you control flame, obviously.”

Ren blinked. Whatever she had expected, it was not this. “Yeah, obviously. Two years to get this Sigil.” Her chin lifted again. “Two years of work and that makes me a genius. I didn’t get some fancy mark like whatever the hell you’re trying to hide.”

“Is that what you came here to say?”

“I came here,” Ren said, and took a step further into the room, “because a Sigil like me shouldn’t be showing around a couple of Initiates who got handed Consecration for no reason anyone can figure out. So I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” Her eyes moved over me again. Over my horns. The dress I was still wearing. “So far, gotta say, not super impressed.”

I heard Ash’s voice. “You’re Edda?” she said, not talking to either of us. I had not seen her rise, nor seen her approach the taller girl. They now stood at one corner of the room. “That’s a pretty line. I don’t think I’ve seen that color before. Is that…something like water?”

Edda glanced at Ash. “Nothing like that. Actually-”

I ignored both of them. Why was Ash not throwing these strange little interlopers out? Surely it was a retainer's job to do that much. When had she even moved there? It didn't matter.

Ren’s face scrunched and she glared down at my arms again. ‘Come on, show me! What the hell does a girl have to do to see a couple of marks around here!”

“No, like I said. The answer has not changed.”

“Why not!” Ren grumbled.

I looked at her. “You have soot on your nose,” I said. It had been rather hard not to notice. "I do not listen to people who look...ridiculous."

Ren’s hand shot to her face. She scrubbed at it with the back of her wrist, her cheeks reddening to match her hair. The effect destroyed whatever image she had been trying to project. Ash laughed, and the girl she was talking to laughed too.

“That’s- that’s from the door! The latch was- it doesn’t matter.” She said quickly. “The point is, I don’t care what Master Aldric says. I don’t care what the Archon thinks. Consecration doesn’t mean anything until you’ve proven you can use what you’ve got. And you” She pointed again “I heard you’re just at Line! You better not go around forgetting that special student or not!”

I almost told her I’d had these marks for less than two weeks. Her reaction doubtless would have been different then.“So I am,” I said instead.

“So you’re below me.” Ren jabbed a thumb at her own chest. Her Sigil flared again as she gestured, brighter this time. Another wisp of flame, there and gone. I was starting to suspect this girl couldn't control her power very well. “I don’t care what the Archon sees in you. You train to earn your place. If your marks are worth anything, then prove it.” She was breathing harder now. “Think you can do that much? What the hell is your name anyway? Bet it’s something-”

“Lysanthia,” I supplied helpfully.

The girl paused, tilted her head. Then she burst out laughing, pointing a finger at me. “L-Lysanthia? Come on, there is no way your parents named you that. Come on, what's your actual name?!”

Once, that alone might have been enough to spur my rage. I felt it rise and then it stopped. Because for one instant, the girl standing before me was not this red-headed stranger. The eyes were different. Her two arms became six, each carrying a blade, and the stance was the same. Feet planted, chin raised, eyes gleaming and refusing to yield. Orzathiel had been rather bold, at first. The image passed. The rage went with it. At present, all this girl did was spur annoyance. Perhaps even I had begun to change.

This girl was not quite a simple brute. I had known plenty. They were hollow, and it seemed to me that this strange girl was anything but. Besides, I did not disagree with what she said. Power had to be earned, always. It was amusing to me that she stood before the one who had earned it most of all, and did not realize it. “Very well,” I said.

Ren paused. She had clearly been prepared for argument. For contempt, perhaps, or dismissal. My acceptance seemed to have knocked something loose in her. “What?”

“You wish to see what I can do? Very well. I expect the proper level of respect when I have this Sigil as you do now.” I let my gaze settle on her. “And when I have a Crest, you can serve under me instead. I will allow it. I believe two years is a small time to reach a Sigil, perhaps you have some small amount of potential.”

“W-who the hell do you think you are?!” The girl asked. It sounded like she was truly asking.

“Your Queen,” I said, and paused. I had meant to keep that as a stray thought. It had slipped out.

Ren’s mouth slowly opened and closed. I waited for her to say something, but it seemed she was unable to. I pointed towards the door. “Do try not to burn the building down on your way out. It seems you are to be our guide. I expect proper service.”

The girl finally found speech again as she turned on her heel with a sharp “Y-you...Fine!” She spun to leave. Her arm swept wide as she did. The Sigil on her arm flared.

I saw the surprise on her face the instant it happened. A small wisp of flame leapt from her forearm and struck the nearest bed to her side. Ash’s bed. The bed caught instantly. Straw and cloth burned. Within seconds, it turned into a column of fire that licked the ceiling. Ash and I stared. Ren stumbled back, eyes wide.

“I- that wasn’t-” Ren muttered, hand raised. Her Sigil flared again. “Shit how the hell do I….”

The flame cleared almost immediately. She had put her own power out, but the bed was…ruined. The frame was blackened and cracked, the mattress was now nothing but a mass of ash. The pillow was gone entirely. It had all happened very, very fast. There was a silence.

“The bed, Ren,” Edda said. Her voice sounded almost tired. “I told you not to get worked up again….”

Ren stared at the wreckage. Her face had gone from flushed to white. “I- it was- the Sigil just-” She looked at me, then at the bed, then at me again. For a moment, she looked only like a girl who had done something very stupid and knew it. “I’ll- I can- look, I’ll fix it, I’ll talk to-”

I felt something I had never felt before. An odd pressure behind my eyes. A dull throb. Perhaps this is what humans called a headache. “Leave,” I said.

She left, almost tripping over herself. Edda steered her through the door with a hand on her shoulder. In the doorway, Edda paused. She looked back at us. At Ash, who raised a hand in a lazy wave. Then at me. “I’m so sorry. My friend she’s-” Edda shook her head. “She gets uh…really heated sometimes.” She paused, as if hearing her own words, then left. She tilted her head slightly towards Ash as she did.

Their voices carried through the corridor as they went. “You burned their bed! Are you crazy!”

“I know I burned their bed!”

“Ren.”

“Shut up! God I'm so embarrassed....”

Their footsteps faded. The room settled. Through the damaged doorframe, I could see the corridor’s lanterns flickering. There was a draft now, courtesy of the now permanently open door. And there was the matter of the bed.

Ash spoke. “You could have been meaner.”

“She was not worth it.”

Ash was quiet for a moment. “Why didn’t you do anything?” I asked her in turn. I was simply curious.

Ash shrugged absently, eyes on the now open door. “I knew she was harmless enough. Nothing more than a kid, Lys.”

“She destroyed the bed.” I pointed out.

“Well...a very angry kid who doesn't have much control,” Ash sighed. “I know the type. She is perfectly harmless…well, intentionally harmless. I can’t speak to what she might do unintentionally.”

“You’ve met…strange children like this before?” I asked.

“I grew up with them.” Ash said. She tilted her head, just slightly. “I was one myself, at one point.” I did not have anything to say to that, and whatever small irritation I felt melted away as quickly as it had come. “I like the quiet one,” Ash said. “Edda.”

“What did you talk about? With her.” I demanded.

Ash paused before answering. “Not much, honestly. I just got the feeling she has her hands full with her friend.”

“I can see why,” I said slowly. The set of my shoulders eased. I had not bid them to tense.

Ash nodded, looking down at her ruined bed. I moved to join her. “You’re remarkably calm about this,” I said. “Considering it is your possession she burned.”

Ash hesitated before answering. “The bed…was uncomfortable anyway,” Ash’s voice was low. She looked to the side and met my gaze, then looked away again.

Odd. Her face had gotten some strange coloration with the look. Perhaps that fool girl had made this room warmer than I had thought. This destruction did make me rather curious about one thing.

I pressed my left hand to the largest piece of the burnt frame. The Cradle stirred beneath the bracer’s disguise. Warmth pooled under my palm. I felt the wood respond -faintly. The grain was not gone. It was damaged but it was there. The impression that came with the power was rather strange. There were many impressions, all of them fighting over each other. Impressions of sadness. Of longing for somewhere else. Impressions of restlessness. More besides. I did not think these all came from the bed itself. The students who used these, perhaps?

There was a hollow for my power here, one Bloom would fill. Would it fix this thing? It was in a rather sorry state, and I was curious. It might do something else. It would be rather inconvenient to grow a tree in the middle of the room.

The bed was uncomfortable anyway. I pulled my hand back. “I cannot fix it,” I said. “The damage is too thorough.”

Ash looked at me for a long moment but did not challenge this. She moved over to my bed, shifted to one side and said nothing at all. The space she left was narrow but enough for me and the egg.

I almost walked over immediately. Instead, I saw the open door that would never close anymore. I crossed the narrow room and pressed my left hand to the scorched doorframe. I took a moment to gather Essence, in the Cradle, and then pushed bloom into the wood. An impression came, one so weak I could not catch it even if I’d tried.

The blackened wood lightened by degrees even as new wood pressed outward from the old. The latch caught and the door clicked shut. The draft died. I turned back to find Ash watching me. “What?” I said.

“Nothing.” Ash lay back and closed her eyes. The corner of her mouth betrayed her.

I returned to the bed. The only bed. Ash had left enough space. The egg was warm against my arm as I settled in beside her. Neither of us spoke. The gap that had been wide enough to pace in was gone now, and the room felt smaller than it was. Sara's bead pressed against my collarbone. I reached for it through the cloth and held it. The room was quiet. There was the sound of breathing beside me.

Somewhere down the hall, I heard what sounded distinctly like a girl kicking a wall, followed by a quieter voice telling her to stop.

The new world waited for us tomorrow, and for the first time since arriving in it, I found myself curious about what the morrow might bring. “The girl was right about one thing,” I said to the ceiling.

Ash did not open her eyes. “Hmm?”

“I think it was stuck.”

Ash slept first, as she always did. I was starting to find that annoying. I had to will myself to sleep. It came sooner than I expected. In the morning, someone tried to kick the door open again.