“So, how’s my favorite Demon Lord?” Skarrol asked, peeking his head into Lord Luth’s cell. “I’ve brought you something else to eat!”

Lord Luth did not reply. He was still sulking in the corner of the cell.

“Hey, c’mon!” Skarrol exclaimed. “You’re acting like you’re dead right now.”

“...Wish I was,” the Demon Lord muttered.

Skarrol furrowed his eyebrows.

“Is this about your sister?” he asked. “I’m sure she’s safe. Hey, let’s talk. I managed to swipe something actually good for us to eat.”

“Go away,” Lord Luth muttered.

Skarrol, contrary to the Demon Lord’s advice, did not go away. He stepped into the room with a tray in his hands.

“I’ve managed to get us some pastries,” the Harpy said. “You like milk with them? I hope so.”

Lord Luth’s head perked up at the mention of food that sounded actually palatable. He looked at Skarrol, who was holding the tray with a glimmer in his eyes.

“...I like pastries, sure,” he said. “But Demonfolk can’t drink milk.”

“Oh,” Skarrol said. “Really?”

“Not adult Demonfolk, anyway.”

The half-Harpy looked at the tray, then switched the cup of water he was going to drink with the cup of milk.

“Milk for me, I guess.”

Sitting down right next to the Demon Lord and placed the plate with the pastry next to him.

“Eat,” Skarrol said. “I order you to.”

Lord Luth’s bright orange eyes flickered over to him.

“On what authority?” Luth challenged.

“On mine. Now eat.”

The half-Harpy proceeded to stuff the pastry into the Demon Lord’s mouth. Luth, in question, gagged on the pastry, before pushing Skarrol away.

After getting the pastry out of his mouth, Lord Luth glared at the half-Harpy.

“Are you looking to die?” Luth asked.

“No,” Skarrol replied. “But you’ve tasted the pastry, right? How could you kill me after tasting it?”

Even though Luth took the pastry out of his mouth, he could still taste it. Smacking his lips, the Demon Lord could taste a hint of honeyed fruit, along with the signature sweet brioche of the pastry.

“...It’s actually pretty good,” Luth said. He looked down at the plate, where he had placed the pastry.

Skarrol nodded, grinning ear to ear.

“Knew it!” the Harpy exclaimed. “I actually baked these myself, ha! How do you feel now?”

Lord Luth, however, simply took another bite from the pastry. He actually took his time to savor the flavor, chewing slowly.

“It’s good,” he said, his voice muffled by the foodstuff in his mouth. “You actually made these? I’m surprised.”

Skarrol had been pointing at Lord Luth, but his hand drooped down at Luth’s simple statement.

“Huh. I was expecting a stronger reaction,” Skarrol admitted.

The Demon Lord simply shrugged.

“It’s good food,” he said. “If someone has good cooking, I’ll give them that, even if I dislike them. Unless you poisoned it.”

The Demon Lord was now looking at the pastry in his hands, even though he had already eaten a third of it.

“...You wouldn’t poison something this good, would you?”

“Nah, none of that,” Skarrol reassured. “Look, I’m eating mine too.”

He took a bite out of his own pastry.

“So why would I poison it?”

Lord Luth nodded. “Fair point.”

He took a swig of water from the cup.

“She liked pastries, too,” the Demon Lord said, examining the baked sweetmeat. He took another bite.

Then promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, now you’re just reminding me of her!” Luth exclaimed. There were still tears streaming from his eyes, but he took another bite of the pastry anyway.

“That wasn’t the strong reaction I was looking for...” Skarrol said. He didn’t know how to console the Demon Lord.

“Okay, look — let’s just talk about her then. How about that?” the Harpy asked. “I’m curious about her. And, uh, I promise not to tell the Hero anything about our conversation!”

Lord Luth gave a wary glance at the half-Harpy, even as he wiped the tears from the bottom of his eyes.

“...I’m not so sure about that,” he said.

“Everything we talk ‘bout here is just between you and me!” Skarrol replied. “I promise!”

The way the Demon Lord looked at Skarrol was a little less skeptical now. But, still skeptical. 

“Harpies typically value their promises, so I suppose,” Lord Luth muttered. “Promise? If you don’t... well, I can’t do anything if you don’t, but my mouth goes shut the moment you tell the Hero anything.”

“Understood, sir!” Skarrol exclaimed, giving a mock salute.

“Never do that again,” Lord Luth replied. “You’re reminding me that I used to be the Demon Lord.”

The Demonfolk man then leaned back in his seat, and took another bite from the pastry.

“Anyway,” he continued, between bites. “What do you want to ask? Go ahead, I’ll be open to talk... as long as it’s not a dumb question.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Skarrol said. “What’s that shovel of hers?”

“Her shovel? You mean ‘Shov-ar’?” Luth asked.

“Shov-ar? Really? Is that what she named it?”

“Yeah, I suppose. She loves it.”

“What’s so special about it?”

Lord Luth leaned back where he sat, as he recounted the specific details surrounding the tool. 

“I made that shovel for her myself, some time ago,” he said. “It’s technically a special weapon, on par with what the Generals carry. But it’s modified, she can cut through anything with it, but it’s not capable of hurting people.”

“Sounds like it’d be a rather good tool. But why bother?”

“She’s my sister. Do I need to say anymore?”

Skarrol opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. It seemed the Harpy had something to say, but decided not to.

The two were quiet for a moment, before Skarrol spoke up again.

“You really love your sister, huh?”

Lord Luth peered up.

“Who wouldn’t? Don’t you have any siblings?”

“Don’t know if I have any,” Skarrol admitted. “I’m an orphan. Before you ask, I don’t know my parents, either. Me being half-Harpy, half-Human might’ve had something to do with it.”

“Oh. Uh...” Luth started. “Half-Human? I wasn’t aware that was possible.”

“I’m living proof that it is,” Skarrol said, giving a shrug. “Thing is, I can’t really relate with having siblings. But I think I know where you’re getting at. Junil is probably the closest to a sister I’ll ever have.”

“The Healer?” Luth asked. “You saw her as a sister? Well... that makes sense. Both of you are around the same age. You two grew up together?”

“Somewhat. The Hero found me early in the war, the Hero Party raised me. I just happened to be good with communicating with pigeons, so he offered me a position as an errand boy.”

The Demon Lord nodded. “I see... It’s still hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact you’re half-Human. How does that work? Can you fly?”

Skarrol lifted his arm, to showcase the signature arm-wings of a typical Harpy. His arms looked more like regular human arms with feathers sticking off of them, along with a skin-like membrane where plumage grew off of.

“Nope, I can’t,” he replied. “Wings are underdeveloped, and I haven’t honed my flying magic.”

Luth glanced at the wings, then looked back up to Skarrol.

“Can’t other Harpies teach you?”

“Not that any would teach me in the first place,” Skarrol replied. “Any other Harpy would see me as a liability, even if I did manage to obtain some semblance of flying ability. I’d probably be too slow, or wouldn’t have enough stamina to keep up. I’m effectively an outcast.”

“...Should I give my condolences?” the Demon Lord asked.

“Don’t bother,” the half-Harpy said. “Never liked ‘em anyways. The other Harpies, I meant. Not that I’ve given up on my dream of flying, though.”

“How can you fly if you physically can’t?”

Skarrol then punched his arms into the air. “That’s why I’ve been building my own magic-powered flying machine! It’ll fly faster, higher, and for longer than any Harpy out there! We’ll see who’s laughing then.”

Lord Luth still stared at Skarrol. The expression on the Demon Lord’s face wasn’t easy to read, but the half-Harpy could figure out that it was some kind of apprehension.

“The fact that you’re half-Harpy and half-Human makes you really weird, I hope you know?” the Demon Lord asked.

"Oh, c'mon! You were fine with me before learning I was a half-and-half!"

"Not that," Lord Luth replied. "I'm just considering the terrifying implications of a half-Human, half-Demonfolk child."

Skarrol tilted his head, and squinted his eyes. The half-Harpy was deep in thought.

“Ehh... would it be that bad?” he asked. “I don’t see any drawbacks. Other than the bullying and social stigma, which is... pretty bad, but can’t be worse than what happened with me.”

“Are you daft?” Lord Luth asked. “A Human-aligned individual with the magical potency of a member of the Demonfolk would have the potential to be ridiculously powerful.”

“Alright, I think that’s more a matter of perspective,” Skarrol continued. “If they’re Human-aligned, as you said, that’d only be bad for you. The Demon Lord. Due to the fact that it’s another person fighting against you.”

Lord Luth gave the half-Harpy a blank stare.

“The Human side of them won’t mesh well with typical Demonfolk anger,” Luth said. “At best, you’ve got a loose cannon. At worst, they’ll turn on you.”

“Well — uh, then why are you saying it’s a bad thing?” Skarrol asked. “For you, specifically. Since you say they’ll turn on the Humans.”

The Demon Lord shook his head. “No, no, no. It doesn’t work that way. Haven’t you heard of that quote before?”

Now it was Skarrol’s turn to blank on the Demon Lord.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It goes ‘the only thing worse than an enemy is a traitor’,” Lord Luth stated. “If someone turncoats, you can’t trust that they’ll be loyal to your cause. I wouldn’t care if they were as strong as the Hero. The headache of having to handle someone like that would be immense.”

Skarrol nodded, as though he was taking down mental notes.

“Good point,” the half-Harpy said, pointing a finger at the Demon Lord.

Skarrol then paused. He could feel that a pulse of magic had suddenly come from somewhere. He wasn’t sure from where, but it felt a lot like—

The conversation that the two were having with each other was suddenly interrupted by a familiar, rectangular illusion that appeared out of thin air.

Lord Luth’s expression quickly shifted to one of horror. 

“Sollar! It’s her again!” he exclaimed. “She’s in danger!”

He rushed over to the illusion, for a first glance at what was happening to Sollar. Skarrol followed the Demon Lord, glancing over.

Luth’s eyes flickered over the illusion, to witness whatever danger his sister had gotten into. Only for him to calm down as what immediately came in sight was Sollar riding some type of boat, down a slope.

“She’s on a raft? On some... miniature canal?” Lord Luth asked. “What in the world is happening?”

Skarrol looked over his shoulder.

“I think that’s Fort Logger’s log flume,” the half-Harpy replied.

“You’ve been there before?” Lord Luth asked. “Wait, what even is Sollar doing there?”

Skarrol shrugged. “I’m not sure, but let me think...”

The Demon Lord glanced nervously at Sollar’s current predicament. But it honestly didn’t look like much of a predicament; she was holding onto the edge of the long raft and was grinning in excitement as it splashed down the flume.

“It actually checks out,” Skarrol finally said, a hand on his chin. “She falls onto a barge, which was probably headed to a base camp leading to Fort Logger... goes up to Fort Logger, and the kind folk up there decided to send her to New Frontierland down the flume.”

“Does it really work that way?” Luth asked.

“That’s what I can think of, you can probably ask Sollar once she gets here,” Skarrol said.

“But I don’t want her to visit me,” the Demon Lord replied. “Doesn’t she realize how much danger she’s putting herself in?”

The half-Harpy then pointed at the illusion before them.

“Does she look like she’s in danger right now?”

Sollar, in the meanwhile, looked absolutely cheerful riding in the raft.

“It could be dangerous,” Lord Luth reasoned. “She could fall out. Or maybe something’s wrong with the slide she’s riding down. There’s so many things—”

“But,” Skarrol interjected. “Right now, does she look like she’s in danger?”

The Demon Lord gave a long, hard look at the illusion.

“She... doesn’t look like she’s in danger,” the Demon Lord admitted. “I... maybe I am worrying too much. Why’d the illusion trigger, then?”

Then, they both saw it.

There appeared to be something crawling up the back of the raft. Even from through the illusion, the Demonfolk and Harpy could sense that it was off.

“Alright, I might be wrong,” Skarrol said. “What in the world is that?”

“Sollar,” the Demon Lord muttered under his breath. “Sollar, look behind you!”

The Demonfolk girl didn’t seem to notice a thing for the first few seconds. However, as she swayed her head left and right, it seemed that she caught the thing in her peripheral vision.

She turned around. Her expression was one of slight worry, before she caught full sight of the thing that was crawling up the back of the raft.

Sollar stepped up, for a better look. Her expression went immediately aghast. In the span of five seconds, she Flared right then and there.

However, both Skarrol and Lord Luth had a good look at who it was, too. Their expressions weren’t as shocked or horrified.

“Wait, that’s—!” the half-Harpy exclaimed.

It was the Healer.

“—A ghost!” Sollar exclaimed. 

As though she was confronting a terrifying feral animal, the Demonfolk girl grabbed at the shovel strapped to her back.

“...That’s not a ghost,” Skarrol continued.

“I don’t think Sollar has figured that out,” Lord Luth said. “But if the Healer is there, that means the Hero is somewhere nearby, too! She’s still in danger!”

The blade of Sollar’s shovel began to glow.

“Get her, Sollar! Go on!” Luth yelled, surprising the half-Harpy next to him.

As if taking his advice, Sollar immediately marched up to the Healer, with the glowing blade above her head. Her eyes seemed to glow a little in the darkness, due to her Flaring.

“If you’re cheering for Sollar, shouldn’t I be cheering for Junil?” Skarrol asked.

Lord Luth glared at the half-Harpy.

“Whose side are you on, anyway?” he asked.

The Demonfolk girl proceeded to smack the ‘ghost’ left and right.

“I don’t think she needs any help,” Skarrol said. “She’s smacking the Healer silly.”

“...More than that,” the Demon Lord admitted. “The spade of her shovel is glowing, she’s pumping magical energy into it. She’s genuinely terrified.”

“Yeah, I’m glad that you only made that shovel cut through non-living stuff. Otherwise Junil might not have a face by the end of this.”

Then, Sollar thrust her shovel forward. This had the effect of severing the raft one-thirds the way down. Which meant that the part Junil was desperately clinging onto was separating.

The severed rear section of the raft was falling so far behind that the two could notice a second raft that had been following. Before the Demon Lord could point out that it appeared Ronn was riding that raft, Junil was promptly overrun by it.

Both Luth and Skarrol winced when Junil was caught underneath the raft that the Hero was on.

“Uh, I think she should be fine,” Skarrol muttered.

Sollar took a few deep breaths, and seeing that the threat was gone, allowed her Flared phase to dissolve away. The Demonfolk girl didn’t seem to take notice of the raft that was behind her, nor the fact that it literally flipped off the log flume, bringing all the occupants of that raft with it.

Soon, the illusion itself dissolved. And, with that, came one of the Demon Lord’s questions to the half-Harpy.

“...Can the Healer survive that?” Luth asked.

“Oh, that? I betcha, she’s survived a lot worse. Wouldn’t worry about her at all.”

“Despite the fact that you ‘see her as a sister’, you’re not putting as much worry in her state-of-being compared to how I am over Sollar...”

“You’re just really protective of Sollar, to a ridiculous extent,” Skarrol said. “Just because I see Junil as one doesn’t mean I’m always on good terms with her. Not saying she deserved the pain, but...”

“You’re not?” Lord Luth asked. “On good terms with her, I meant to ask.”

“No. You dote on your sister all the time because she’s not smart enough to know otherwise. Junil, however, is the type that you’d rather do the opposite to.”

"Really?" the Demon Lord asked. "What are siblings for, if not unconditional love?"

"Unconditional squabbles and arguments, too," replied the Harpy. "But, again, I figured that you wouldn't be the type to argue with Sollar."

The Demon Lord crossed his arms.

"If that's the way you see sibling relations, I'm glad you're not in my position..."

Luth then glanced back over where the illusion had been, a moment earlier.

“Still, I'm worried. She should be in New Frontierland now, based on what you said about the Flume. Without the guidance of General Forge... Speaking of, I didn’t see General Forge at all! Did my General abandon her?”

The half-Harpy gathered the plate and cups.

“Things should be fine! I hope,” Skarrol reassured.

He then held a finger up.

“Don’t quote me on that, actually.”

The Demon Lord scoffed.

“I don’t think I’d ever quote you on anything,” Lord Luth admitted. “Or ever will. And, if you’d allow me, let me speak to General Forge, I’ve got an earful to give him.”

“No-can-do! You know the rules. Not that I can, but...”

The Harpy held his position, so the Demon Lord just nodded.

“...Alright, fine.”

“Good! I’ll be back later.”

Without another word, the Harpy left the room.