Chapter Eight: Dreamscape

“Dinner’s ready, Edlyn.” The woman’s voice drifted from the house like wind-bells in a summer breeze, bright and warm.

Edlyn poked her small head from the quilt like a wary kitten, scratched her messy hair, yawned, and stretched like a lazy cat in sun.

Then memory struck like cold rain. She frowned, smacked her own cheek, and hissed, “Damn it! I won’t be duped by human charity!”

She rolled from bed and hurried to the washroom like a startled bird. In the mirror’s still water, her nose twitched; disgust rippled across her face.

“Damn it. How long am I stuck in this little girl’s shell?” Her voice was a stone dropped in a well.

She stomped to the table like a storm cloud. The woman smiled, came over like a willow bending, and ruffled Edlyn’s hair with a feather-light hand.

“What is it? Who ruffled your feathers?” Her tone was tea-steam, soft and curling.

Edlyn lifted her eyes, a tide of mixed light in them, then turned away like a fox. She propped her chin and puffed her cheeks.

“Nothing.” The word fell like a pebble in sand.

The woman chuckled, pinched Edlyn’s small nose like a plum bud, then slipped back to the kitchen like a stream.

Edlyn stared out the window like a lantern seeking dawn. The scene outside was a watercolor wash, and her mind drifted like mist.

A tug brushed her ankle like a fish in reeds. She looked down.

A snot-nosed little girl, seven or eight parts like her, gazed up with starry hope and called, “Sis. Sis~”

Edlyn pouted, lips like a berry. “Who’s your sister?”

The little one grinned foolishly and hugged Edlyn’s leg like a koala, smearing snot and drool like slug trails on dew-wet bark.

Edlyn jolted from the chair like a cat burned by soup. Her hair bristled like thistle.

“Aaaah! Mere humans! How dare you humiliate me like this!” Her voice cracked like thunder on dry hills.

Startled by the roar, the little girl blinked, plopped down with a soft thud, and wailed like a kettle boiling over.

Edlyn wiped at her pants with tissues, each stroke a blade of grass against mud. She gritted her teeth.

“Brat! What are you crying for? I’m the one who’s suffering!” Her words rang like clashing pans.

Little Angela ignored her, tears streaming like twin rivers. The room filled with the wet-silk sound of sobbing.

Edlyn’s temples throbbed like a drum. She clapped her hands over her ears, squatted, and scooped Angela up like a bundled chick.

From her pocket, she fished out contraband candy like hidden treasure. She popped one between Angela’s lips. “Here, take the sugar. Quiet.”

When Yulia stepped from the kitchen, she saw a ten-year-old girl holding a smaller one like a big willow shading a sapling, humming a song.

The tune she’d taught her floated like a lullaby on evening wind. Edlyn’s face was impatient, yet her hands moved with practiced ease.

Yulia tucked a loose lock behind her ear like sliding silk. Satisfaction warmed her eyes like late sun, and she drifted back to her pots.

A call rang from the kitchen like a bell. Edlyn set Angela on the sofa like a careful crane and unwillingly carried dishes, step by step.

Lunch wasn’t lavish, but it glowed with nutrition like a simple harvest spread.

Edlyn eyed the plates and curled her lip like a cat at plain porridge. Her mind grumbled like distant thunder.

A mother knows her child like a gardener knows soil. Yulia saw it all, coaxing Angela while watching Edlyn’s chopsticks creep like a thief.

“Don’t rush. Wait for your father.” Yulia smiled, her words a fan flutter.

Edlyn felt that “unfriendly” gaze like a thorn. “N-No! I’m not hungry! I—I just…”

“What?” Yulia’s smile arced like a crescent moon.

“I…I was tasting for my sister.” The last words fell like rain too light to wet the dust.

“All right, all right. If you’re hungry, eat first.” Yulia’s tease was a dimpled ripple on a pond.

Truth be told, teasing her silly daughter was spice in plain rice. It added small fireworks to quiet days.

Given the nod, Edlyn couldn’t hold back. Her knife and fork danced like sparrows over grain.

Yulia eyed the tangled hair like a hedge gone wild. “Sleep till noon again, and there’ll be no lunch. Let’s see you try to laze.”

Edlyn froze like a deer in snow. She stood, eyes misted like spring rain, and bit her lip while looking at Yulia.

Yulia turned aside like a proud goose. “Weaponized cuteness is shameful and useless! This is for your health, you hear?”

Edlyn drooped like a wilted peony and buried herself in eating, each bite a muffled protest drummed in rice.

A knock sounded at the door like knuckles on wood in twilight. Yulia handed Angela into Edlyn’s arms and went to open it, skirts whispering.

“Darling, I’m back.” The voice at the door carried road-dust and warmth, like an old coat smelling of pine.

Edlyn blinked, then looked up. Arman Brulyar filled the doorway like a sturdy pine.

He stood a head taller than most, neither thin nor hulking, stubble like iron filings, and a Rank-4 adventurer’s badge glinting like frost.

Edlyn curled her lip, a sneer like a knife-glint. A guy like this? Back then I could squash him with one slap.

After a quick wash like rain on stones, Arman followed Yulia into the kitchen. Two bright little girls were scuffling at the table like sparrows.

He leaned and kissed their foreheads like falling petals. “Miss me, little ones?”

Edlyn turned away like a cloud. “No.”

Little Angela flung her arms wide like a sunflower. “Daddy~”

Arman ruffled Edlyn’s hair like wind through wheat, pinched Angela’s cheek like a dumpling, then sat and ate with slow, steady bites.

“How was work?” Yulia asked, her smile a soft lamp.

“Mm. Not bad. But in a few days, we might have to move.” Arman’s face sank like a stone in a pond.

“Eh? Why? Isn’t it nice here?” Yulia’s gaze fluttered like sparrow wings.

He shrugged, helpless as a leaf in current. “The Church assigned me to survey a rural area. If it goes well, I’ll qualify as a cleric.”

A strange smile tugged his mouth like a secret knot. He glanced at Edlyn, then went on.

“You three being far from me is a worry, like boats on two rivers. Better you come with me.”

“I see.” Yulia’s voice dimmed like dusk. Roots had grown here, thin but real.

“Mm. Dear, start packing tonight like folding maps. We’ll leave in two days.” Arman’s tone was a steady drum.

“But…” Yulia glanced at Edlyn like testing wind. Seeing no reaction, she held her tongue like a sealed letter.

Arman winked like a firefly. Be at ease.

After lunch, Edlyn stayed in the kitchen washing bowls, suds blooming like clouds. Yulia lulled Angela to sleep like rocking a cradle boat.

Work must be pressing; Arman rested a moment like a stone in shade, then left with quiet steps like a fox.

Done, Edlyn wiped sweat from her brow like clearing dew. Hands on hips, she grinned. “Heh! As expected of me!”

The grin melted into hands on her face like snow on slate. What is a Demon King doing playing house?

After a nap, it was study time, a bell in her ribs. She carried a bag of textbooks like a soldier’s pack and trudged into class.

Eyes snapped to her like sparrows to millet, fixed on her face as if it were a painted fan.

“Did our class rep get pissed off? Did someone cross her?” Voices fluttered like gossiping leaves.

“Dunno. But if I find who made Brulyar upset, I’ll teach him a lesson!” A boy clenched his fists like pebbles.

The chorus of “peers” itched under Edlyn’s skin like wool. She slid into a back seat like a shadow and kept quiet.

The boy in front turned around like a spinning top. “Hey, Brulyar, you’re early today.”

“Huh? Do you want something?” Her mood was a low cloud; spirit like a damp wick.

“Uh… no. Just wondering if you did the homework.” He waved it off like shooing a fly, sensing her storm.

“Yeah.” She flopped onto her desk like a felled tree, no spark.

“C-can I know what you wrote?” Curiosity shone in him like a firefly.

“No.” Her refusal snapped like a twig.

“Aw, c’mon. I really wanted to know what you want to be when you grow up.” His regret sagged like a kite in still air.

Yesterday’s assignment was a dream for the future, written like a path in sand.

Edlyn shot him a look like a needle. “Oh. That’s the point, huh?”

“S-sorry, sorry. Are you mad, Brulyar?” His hands fluttered like moths.

She ignored him and raised a finger to her lips like a hush fan. Then she lifted a book and covered her face like a tent.

The boy blinked like an owl. He hesitated, then chirped anyway. “I wanna be a High Mage! Save people, help the common folk!”

He peeked at Edlyn like a mouse. Seeing no movement, he brightened like morning.

“Hey, I heard only ten got picked as High Mages this year! All geniuses of the Draco Empire. First place’s called Eli or something. Amazing.”

Edlyn raised her head, annoyance like smoke. “Shh. Zip it. I’m sleepy. Got it?”

“O-oh. Okay, okay. Sorry.” His apology wilted like grass.

The afternoon passed in a fog, slow as a river. Even when her essay was held up as a model, she barely rippled.

Please. I’m a Demon King. Spin some lofty stuff like silk, and it dazzles children. She thought it with a fang’s grin.

She pushed open the door at home, and darkness poured like ink. The empty room breathed cold like a cave.

Out of nowhere, sadness and loneliness rose like tide in winter. Ten years living as human had carved deep grooves in her heart.

No one to speak with—no one worth it, she told herself—but the blank room yawned like a dry well.

Edlyn curled on the sofa like a leaf, hugged her knees, and buried her face like a bird beneath wing.

Without noticing, she began to sob, small and broken, like rain on eaves.

Time thinned, then pooled. Maybe the sadness, maybe the day’s weight; at last, sleep took her like a dark river.

She opened her eyes to ribbons strung like rainbows on rafters. Her family stood smiling like lanterns in fog.

Yulia held a conical party hat like a paper crown and beamed. “Edlyn—happy birthday~”

Arman smiled too, warm as a hearth. “Happy birthday~”

Little Angela opened her arms like a chick for the nest, waiting for a hug.

Edlyn froze like a snowflake catching sunlight. The sorrow on her shoulders slid off like meltwater.

And she understood. Maybe she wasn’t the Demon King anymore, not where it mattered.

Dizziness rolled in like a tide, and she woke slowly, pain a faint bruise like twilight on skin. She rubbed her brow, eyes heavy as lids of stone.

“Was… it a dream?” Her whisper was a feather.

She forced her eyes open and found herself lying in someone’s arms like a rescued swimmer. A hand was mending her wounds with gentle heat.

She looked up into a face stormed with worry, a sky knotted with care.

Eli bent and kissed her, soft as a petal. “Idiot. Don’t you dare throw yourself away like that again.”

The dream rose in her like spring water. Edlyn laughed, bright as bells. “Dad, Mom, thank you.”

Eli blinked, confusion flickering like a candle. “What’s wrong?”

Edlyn smiled sweetly, sat up with effort like a sprout through earth, and kissed his chin like a pecking bird. “Nothing~”

“Uh…”

“Hey… Eli~ I love you!” Her words flew like swallows into sun.