¡DEVILISH! [Discontinued]

IX

So maybe it was going to be a lot harder to find those wings and scythe than Ban had originally thought. He stared down the large hole of Danafor.

     "I'm surprised someone so small can contain such power," Jericho commented, throwing a rock inside. It didn't seem like it'd ever hit a ground zero, but it was the thought that counted. "That's where her scythe is?"

     "Probably there to make sure no else could sense its power," Ban told her, cupping the side of his ear as if it'd help him hear the rock hit something. He heard nothing. "Guess we'll just have to walk down there."

     "If it really is all that powerful, how in the world are you going to get it?"

     "Are you calling me weak?"

     "Your words, not mine."

~•~○~•~

Harlequin laid down on his pillowy green chastiefol, arms behind his head and eyes closed. He had been falling in and out of sleep for the past couple of minutes. Whenever he thought he was finally unconscious, his senses reminded him that The Devil was nearby, undoubtedly scheming something.

     It's not like he wasn't used to it. He'd spent a good hundred years or more alongside her. It's just that back then, when she still remembered him, she'd talk a lot more. She'd smile too.

     His heart beat faster at the thought of it. The way her lips curled, and her teeth flashed. Her eyes would become tiny at just how much her cheeks rose. Her laugh was something else entirely, something out of this world. He couldn't put words to that. It just made his stomach flip and his heart shake at how she giggled and cackled like no one was watching. And boy, did The Devil love to laugh. She had quite the sense of humor back then.

     The thoughts in his head put him at peace enough to finally sleep, the reminiscence lulling him back to a peaceful time.

     The Devil waited patiently, which was- by the surprise to no one- not one of her strong suits nowadays, but she did it, silent as a killer.

     It had seemed a mage had done the same, a black orb seamlessly coming through the solid wooden door. Seraphim did not look at her, just kept mindlessly staring at the fairy she had been tied to.

     "Discovered," she corrected the mage.

     "I don't think I know what you're talking about," the mage said back, her foreboding voice echoing in the room.

     "I did not create a system of magic," Sera told her, "I discovered one."

     The mage appeared in a material form, a waste of power just to properly speak to The Devil, but Seraphim quickly saw through it, the crumbling confidence of the other stoic being on the team. Sera really needed to keep count of how many "stoic" people she made arrangements with; they were starting to prove troublesome.

     "No deal," she told her, "not with you, Merlin."

     "You came here to make a deal with me," Merlin told her, matter-of-factly, "if you want my help to get those chains off, you surely will shake hands with me."

     "Partly, you're right," Seraphim hummed, "I want your resources; I don't need them."

     Merlin did not respond to this. Walking in front of her sitting position on the plush bed. "We have a common intrest."