“Did it never occur to you to mention at one point – at any point – that the Headmistress was your mother?!”

Cobalt fixed Karazelle with an intent glare as the stairlift quietly creaked its way down the dormitory stairwell. The Succubus, carrying his satchel, just smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

“You never asked,” she replied simply.

“How was I supposed to know in order to ask?!”

“How was I supposed to know you didn’t know?”

He groaned and buried his head in his hands.

“Oh, I am so fired…”

Following the lift as it made its descent, Karazelle sighed and placed a hand on her teacher’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry so much about it, sugar. What Momma doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“That’s just it! Nothing gets past Mistress Viola! She’s gonna find out what you’re doing soon enough, and then everything I’ve worked for is going to go straight down the drain!”

The stairlift reached the ground floor, allowing Cobalt to wheel himself out into the dorm’s front hall. Karazelle followed him and placed his satchel on his lap.

“Y’know, Momma’s not that scary once you get to know her,” she remarked, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair.

“I knew her for three years when I attended B.I.D., and I was terrified of her every minute of every day,” the Incubus replied glumly.

She giggled.

“When you say stuff like that, it makes me wonder what would have happened if we met earlier on. I think you’d look good in a student uniform.”

The Succubus suddenly leaned closer and purred in his ear.

“Wanna try a little role reversal sometime, sugar~?”

“Th- This is exactly what I’m talking about! This kind of conduct is going to get us both in deep trouble!”

This didn’t seem to bother Karazelle. In fact, it just made her laugh.

“Oh c’mon, lighten up, sugar! What would she even do if she found out? Spank us?”

The colour drained from Cobalt’s face as a series of repressed memories suddenly flashed across his mind’s eye.

“Yes…”

Shivering all over, Cobalt suddenly stopped and turned around, gazing up at Karazelle’s face with a worried look.

“Karazelle, I appreciate you helping me, but I think it would be better for the two of us if you kept your distance from now on,” he told her, only growing more paranoid now that he knew the identity of her mother.

She cocked her head.

“Aw, but I like our little trysts!”

“Karazelle!”

Her laugh echoed throughout the dormitory building’s lower floor, drawing the confused gazes of some of the boys in the common room.

“You don’t gotta worry, sugar. Momma’s too busy with work to focus on me, meaning I get to play with you all I like!”

She grabbed the tip of one of his horns and shook it playfully, but Cobalt didn’t seem to find the funny side of the whole situation. With a sigh, he turned for the door.

“Just… be careful, alright? The last thing I need is a student getting into trouble because of me. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Karazelle,” he said, heading for the door.

She stuck out her tongue behind him.

“Maybe I’ll see you a little earlier, if you get my meaning!”

He deigned not to reply, and just continued out the front entrance.

It was only the first week of November, and yet the evenings were already as dark as night. The chilled air was cold enough to take Cobalt’s breath away, and as he gazed up at the deep crimson sky, he briefly congratulated himself on lasting this long at B.I.D. He knew from the get-go that it was going to be a tough job, but he never imagined that it would be quite as tough as this. Not only had he landed himself in a wheelchair, but now he found out that his boss’ daughter was attending his class.

He frowned as he pondered that very fact. For a woman as astute and powerful as Mistress Viola, he would have thought that her child would wind up in one of the better performing classes, like 2-A. It only made sense.

And yet, now that he thought about it, Karazelle wasn’t anything like her mother. She exuded none of the intimidating pressure that seemed to constantly follow the Headmistress around, and rarely seemed to be without a smile. Where Viola was harsh and to the point with her words, her daughter constantly joked, jested and jibed lightheartedly, like a linguistic dancer. He was hardly to blame for being unaware of their relationship; the two were complete and total opposites.

“It begs the question… nature or nurture…?” the Incubus mumbled to himself, rolling up to one of the main school building’s side entrances.

He heard a polite cough to his left.

“Ah, Cobalt! Take a few minutes to join us, mon chéri!” called a voice that made his neck tingle uncomfortably.

Gritting his teeth into a forced smile, he turned to face the pair of demons lurking by the entranceway. Ethan Zespire stood smoking a cigarette, silently saluting the Incubus as he took a deep drag. Smoke coiling from the Oni’s nose, he handed it to the woman next to him.

She was shapely, even among Succubus standards, and with her position as the Lust demon Applied Demonics teacher, she was no stranger to showing herself off. She wore a black dress that seemed to accentuate her features rather than conceal them, and as Cobalt reluctantly wheeled himself over to his colleagues, she gave him a sultry laugh.

Madam Pudon. He had plenty of memories of her from his schooldays, and few of them were particularly pleasant to look back on. Sufficed to say that being the only boy in his Applied Demonics class didn’t do much for Cobalt’s self-esteem, back in the day.

“What are you two doing out here?” the Incubus asked, doing his utmost to avoid the Succubus’ predatory gaze.

Zespire shrugged.

“Got a few minutes before the staff meeting. Figured we may as well spend it indulging our vices,” he replied in his usual gruff tone, accepting the cigarette off his workmate.

“Care to join us?” the Succubus cooed, hunkering down to face Cobalt.

He shook his head.

“I- I don’t smoke, Madam Pudon,” he replied shakily, staring hard at the gravel underfoot.

She gasped melodramatically.

“Ah, si froid! Please, Cobalt, didn’t I always tell you to call me Monique?”

He continued to stare at the ground.

“A, um… A student really shouldn’t be so familiar with their teacher…” he mumbled.

“Oh, but I am not your teacher anymore, am I~?”

“Leave the kid alone, Monique. Can’t you see the PTM’s got him rattled?” Zespire chided, lightly elbowing the Succubus.

She stuck out her lower lip.

“He’s had a whole day to recover. Sure I could-?”

“Don’t be gross.”

Eager to change the subject, Cobalt suddenly cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. Sure enough, he was still concerned about the PTM, but he had a lot more on his mind since it ended.

“Do either of you know what this is about? It’s not like the Headmistress to call a meeting on such short notice…” he asked, shivering in the cold evening air.

Zespire shrugged as he blew smoke rings up into the air.

“Dunno. George has gone on ahead to set up. Says he thinks something’s got Viola irritated.”

Cobalt blanched. That couldn’t be good.

“George Hersh, ever the diligent educator. Do you think he’s trying to impress you, hmm~?” Madam Pudon hummed, poking the Oni in the ribs.

“He don’t gotta try that hard.”

“Oho! And what do you mean by that, cher cœur?”

“Quit pretending to be French. It’s annoying.”

“You’re avoiding the question~!”

As the two Applied Demonics teachers bickered and jabbed at one another, Cobalt sat back in his chair and took a deep breath, only to try and suppress a fit of coughs as he inhaled the cigarette smoke. Staff meetings were usually only held for one of two reasons; to give good news or bad. And knowing the Headmistress, it was usually the latter…

He heard a fresh set of footsteps crunching against the gravel behind him, right as a cold pair of hands suddenly pressed against Cobalt’s shoulders.

“Mistress Viola is expecting you all in the staffroom,” spoke a hauntingly monotonous voice, causing the Incubus to freeze up.

The two Applied Demonics teachers glanced at each other before fixing the newcomer with surprised stares.

“Nurse Yalfre. You’re back,” Zespire commented humourlessly, flicking ash from his cigarette.

“How was your holiday? See any cute girls or boys?” Madam Pudon quipped, giving them a wink.

The hands clasped upon Cobalt’s shoulders tightened.

“As I said, you’re expected.”

“Alright, alright, we’re going.”

Putting out the cigarette, the two teachers bid farewell and headed into the school, leaving Cobalt alone with the frigid presence behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut, the ash-black hands suddenly clasped around his throat as shivering breaths prickled the back of his neck.

“A week of atonement… Bare flesh rent by my own hand… Justice for my transgressions against you…”

Shaking himself free, Cobalt quickly spun the wheelchair around and back up, eyes wide with fear.

She was back. Dressed in her nurse’s uniform, Elya Yalfre stood before the Incubus, oblivious to biting November wind. She peered over the rims of her spectacles, her violet gaze cutting straight through the Incubus.

“Wh- What are you talking about…?” he breathed, swallowing hard as the Fallen bore down upon him.

Eyes wide, she undid the buttons on her top and unceremoniously pulled it open, revealing to Cobalt that she was wearing nothing underneath. He recoiled and shielded his eyes, but his shock suddenly turned to horror upon spying a glint of red. Pulling his hands away from his eyes, the breath was taken from the Incubus’ throat as he gazed upon Elya’s midriff.

She was covered in scratches, some gouged deep enough into her flesh to draw blood. Eyes wide, he looked up to see crusted red residue beneath her fingernails.

“E- Elya…”

“I needed to repent. Such is the form that it takes,” she breathed, closing her top.

“B- But…!”

“I made my vows anew as I salted the wounds. I will never allow you to be harmed by my hand again.”

Cobalt just sat there, completely stunned by Elya’s revelation. With her shirt buttoned, she stepped behind him and grasped the handles of his wheelchair.

“Worry not, my love… Though your legs may fail you, I will not…”

 

-----

 

For the first time since the accident during the Autumn Festival, Cobalt felt utterly hopeless at the prospect of being unable to run. Elya was back, and if she decided to accost him, he wouldn’t be able to run. Not only that, but the Fallen seemed even more off. As she wheeled him towards the staffroom, she began to hum tunelessly.

“E- Elya?” Cobalt asked, unsure of whether it was a good idea to even engage her.

“Yes, my love?”

“Are you… okay?”

He could almost hear her smile.

“Better than ever. It burns so good, my love. I feel so… resolute.”

The Incubus swallowed hard.

“But… those wounds…” he murmured, barely able to finish the sentence.

“Here we are.”

The door to the staffroom was already opened allowing him to see what lay within.

Normally, the teacher’s lounge was a room that had been laid out with comfort in mind, but not when there was a meeting to be had. The individual tables had all been pushed together to form a single large table that ran down the centre of the room. The couches and chairs flanked it on both sides, and upon each one sat a member of B.I.D.’s staff. Madam Pudon waved at him from her seat by Martha Cain, who just scowled and drank from her coffee. George Hersh and Ethan Zespire shared a leather couch across from them, both already deep in conversation. At the very head of the table, Mistress Viola sat upon a stately armchair, her epauletted cloak draped across its back. She steepled her fingers and watched as Elya brought the Incubus in and shut the door behind them.

This didn’t feel like a meeting. It felt like an intervention. Or a trial.

“With Mr. Trayer’s arrival, I take it we’re all present?” the Headmistress stated, clicking a pen and opening a book before her.

The school staff murmured and clamoured as the Incubus wheeled himself up to the table.

“About bloody time…” Martha commented, glaring at him over the rim of her coffee cup.

“Right, let’s begin. First item on the docket; winter preparations. The December snows are still a month away, but I don’t want a repeat of the frozen pipe incident from last year. Obviously I had planned to have a plumber give them a once over, but I have since had to cancel such plans," Mistress Viola announced, scrawling something in her book.

A hard lump formed in Cobalt's throat.

"Eh? Why's that?" asked a first year core teacher.

"The school's coffers are going to be rather bare for the forseeable, so I've had to cut down on overall expenditure."

The staff all turned to one another and began to murmur, confused as to this sudden turn of events. Cobalt, on the other hand, just sank further into his seat. Thankfully Viola wasn't throwing him under the bus, but he could tell by her cutting gaze that she was not happy at all.

"The Brode family has withdrawn their support. That was the second issue I wished to bring up with you all today," she stated, leaning back and folding her arms.

A collective cry of shock erupted from the staffroom.

"You're not serious!"

"Brode? You mean Charles Brode?"

"That was almost a third of our funding!"

Viola raised her hands.

"Please, calm yourselves. I'm telling you this not so you may panic, but so you may start coming up with ideas on how to save or make money. It's going to be rough, I won't lie to you. But B.I.D. has weathered worse."

Martha scoffed humourlessly.

"I'll say. Fires, riots and revolutions, and here we are fretting over empty wallets."

"Watch your tongue, Miss Cain," Viola interjected, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Bah."

Across the meeting table, George Hersh scratched his head.

"I don't understand it. The Brodes have been funding this school since it went public. Why stop now, when one of their own is attending?" the Glutton asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Headmistress glanced up from her book.

"That would be their busi-"

"It's my fault."

The clamour of the staffroom died down as everybody turned to face Cobalt. He sad up straight in his wheelchair, face burning with embarrassment as he stared hard at his twiddling thumbs.

"M- Mr. Brode pulling out, I mean. It's my fault."

As his heart hammered in his mouth, Mistress Viola narrowed her eyes.

"Boy..."

Martha laughed cruelly.

"Of course. Of course! You can always trust a Trayer to fuck things up for the rest of us!" she spat venomously.

Behind him, the Incubus could hear Elya quietly pull Immoderata from her stocking. Holding his breath, he gazed up at his horrified colleagues.

"I had a chat with his daughter, and she decided to make a change in her life because of it. Mr. Brode clearly didn't appreciate me interfering in family business..."

Exhaling slowly, he took a minute to quell his nerves, though he still shook all over.

"I will not apologise for helping Whitney. But I will take responsibility for the consequences, even if I do not agree with them. Mistress Viola, if it even helps just a little, I'd like to forgo payment until the school's finances stabilise," Cobalt announced, feeling his own temples throb.

His co-workers all gawped at him, stunned by the Incubus' sudden statement. Zespire and Hersh gave each other worried glances, whilst Madam Pudon offered him a half-hearted smile of encouragement.

Mistress Viola leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers. Though her face was as stony as ever, he could spy a glint of bemusement in her eyes.

"You're a glutton for punishment, boy. You're really willing to give up your wage in order to be forgiven?"

He shook his head.

"Not for forgiveness, no. I still think what I did was right. But I want to help any way I can, even if it means I'll be living a little less luxuriously for the forseeable future," Cobalt replied.

"And if I just decide to fire you?"

Elya stepped forward.

"Then you shall need to find a new nurse too. And in the current economic climate, finding medical professionals willing to slave away in a tertiary school is a laughable prospect," she announced in a cold, steely tone.

Mistress Viola's eyes narrowed.

"You have some nerve, Nurse Yalfre. I hired you because-"

"You hired me because the previous nurse quit and you had no other option."

A cough sounded from the far end of the table, drawing everyone's attention to a kindly Nymph woman. Miss Lunstor, the Hubris Applied Demonics teacher, readjusted her shirt collar and drummed her fingers against the tabletop.

"Regarding Miss Brode's sudden change of character, I have to admit, she has been much more pleasant to work with these past few months. Less truancy, too," she stated.

Another teacher nodded his head, a man Cobalt recognised as Whitney's math teacher.

"I agree. She's been plenty diligent lately."

The Headmistress shut her eyes and massaged her temples. The Incubus could tell that even she had grown weary of Whitney's attitude.

"... You make a fair point. Very well. If you're willing to sacrifice your own financial wellbeing for that of this school's, then it would be remiss of me to stop you."

Cobalt shrunk back into his seat, still a little unsure of what he had just done. Though his colleagues still gawked and stared at him, he kept his eyes down, tensing up as Elya placed her hands on his shoulders once more. Deep down, he knew he just shot himself in the foot. He no longer had an income, and the entire B.I.D. teaching staff now knew that the hard days ahead were his fault.

But the Incubus didn't want to be someone who just sat and stewed in his own guilt. Not anymore.

Mistress Viola clapped her hands once and turned the page.

"If we're all quite finished, we have more items to cover..."