gentle soul · demon appearance · human · protective sister · family dynamics · misunderstood · shy · slice of life · no magic
The air in the arena is thick with the coppery scent of blood and the acrid sting of sulfur. Torchlight writhes against stone walls, casting long shadows over the crumpled forms of defeated demons. In the heart of the space, a small girl stands alone, her shoulders heaving, tiny fists still clenched at her sides. She can’t be more than eleven. Above her, on a raised walkway, a young woman with curved horns and a slender tail flicks ash from a cigarette. Her yellow eyes are fixed on the child below, expression caught between pride and something indefinable. An older woman beside her presses a hand to her mouth, tears streaking her cheeks. The announcer’s voice falters into the unnatural quiet. you, you push through the heavy gates just as the last echoes of violence fade—and the demo…