"I said, don't hurt him."
The forest around them stilled as if the very trees were listening. The air vibrated faintly with something that wasn't magic, but something older—deeper. The faint golden bond around Elias's wrist pulsed once with a heartbeat-like glow, and Rhea's tiny hands clenched.
The former demon general knelt, still and poised like a shadow carved from obsidian. His hood had slipped back just enough to reveal a single dark horn peeking through tangled black hair and an eye like a molten eclipse—neither human nor entirely monstrous. That eye, which had stared down armies and torn gods from their pedestals, softened.
"As you wish, my Queen," he said with reverence, bowing his head so low it touched the mossy earth.
Rhea's voice wavered. "I-I'm not your queen. I don't even remember your name."
"You once called me Varric, Flamebearer of the Southern Spire." He raised his head slowly. "You forged me in your fire."
"That sounds... weird." Rhea backed up a step and tugged at Elias's sleeve. "I didn't actually forge you, did I?"
"Nope," Elias said quickly. "I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's metaphorical. Hopefully."
Rhea squinted at Varric. "...Do you have an instruction manual?"
"I have a sword," Varric replied solemnly.
"That's not helpful!" she groaned. "Elias, what do I do with a loyal ancient demon general?"
Elias blinked. "Um... assign him kitchen duty? Just a thought."
Varric frowned, confused. "Would you like me to burn the kitchen?"
"No!" both Elias and Rhea shouted at once.
Rhea looked up at Elias, her big crimson eyes swirling with emotions too tangled for someone her size. "I don't want to hurt people anymore. I don't want anyone I care about getting hurt because of me."
Elias knelt beside her, his fingers brushing hers. "Then give your first command as something that helps you protect. That's the kind of queen you're choosing to be now, right?"
Her lip quivered. She glanced back at Varric. "Then... protect Elias. That's my command. If I ever go out of control, if I ever start to become who I was before—then protect him first."
Varric's eyes glowed briefly. "Then the order is carved into my spirit. He shall be protected with the same fury I once wielded against the Holy Host."
Rhea shifted awkwardly. "Maybe... a little less fury? I don't want him squished by accident."
Elias coughed. "Appreciated."
The trees rustled. A breeze flowed through, gentle and cold, brushing Rhea's hair back. She looked... taller, somehow. No, not in body—but in presence. The runes along her bond flared gently, and Elias felt the faint thrum of warmth where it pressed against his skin. She stood straighter now, holding herself with hesitant authority.
"So… what now?" Elias asked, standing.
Rhea opened her mouth to answer—
—and her stomach growled loudly.
"...I guess lunch?" she said, deadpan.
Even Varric blinked. "Do you still consume mortal food?"
"YES. I'm seven, not an eldritch horror. I like bread!"
Elias chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Come on, Your Highness. Let's get you a sandwich before you command your general to conquer a bakery."
"...Not a bad idea," she muttered under her breath.
Back at the cottage—now slightly more cramped thanks to a brooding demon general lurking near the fireplace like a gargoyle—they settled in for what Elias hoped would be an uneventful afternoon.
"I can't believe he just follows me now," Rhea mumbled between mouthfuls of toast. "Like, poof. Instant follower. I didn't even do anything."
"Technically you gave a soul command from an ancient bloodline contract marked by demonic authority and bounded by subconscious power resonance," Elias replied, sipping tea. "Also, you're cute."
Rhea stared at him.
Elias blinked. "I-I mean that last one doesn't count. As a reason. Objectively speaking."
"Smooth," she said, munching loudly.
Varric loomed in the corner. "Do you wish me to execute the bread for insolence?"
"No, Varric," Elias sighed. "Bread is fine."
"Bread has crusts, Elias," Rhea muttered dramatically. "It is not fine."
Later that day, Elias brought Rhea out behind the cottage, away from Varric's intense demon-y stare, to the little patch of meadow where they often practiced fire spells.
"You really think he'll listen?" Rhea asked, watching a firefly land on her finger. "What if I... go bad again?"
"You won't," Elias said, sitting beside her. "Because you've already started to change things. You didn't order him to attack. You told him to protect. That's a big deal."
"But I still want to burn stuff," she whispered. "When I get angry... it's like there's this thing inside me. It wants to come out."
Elias gently reached over and placed her hand on his chest.
"Then remember this heartbeat. If it ever gets too loud in your head—think of this. You have someone worth protecting now, too."
Her hand trembled slightly. "Okay."
A few minutes passed in silence. The wind stirred the flowers. The last golden light of day dipped below the horizon.
Rhea finally spoke.
"Hey Elias?"
"Yeah?"
"If I... become the Demon Queen again—"
"You won't."
"But if! Just saying—if I do—can I still sleep in your bed?"
He stared at her.
"I mean," she said hurriedly, face turning bright red, "not like that! Just. You know. It's warm. And I don't have bad dreams when I'm near you. So. Maybe?"
He let out a breathless laugh. "Deal."
"...Pinky swear?"
He held out his little finger.
She wrapped hers around it.
That night, as Elias wrote in his notebook by candlelight, he glanced over at the lump curled up under too many blankets in his bed. She had fallen asleep mid-mutter, whispering "no hurting, no burning" over and over like a lullaby.
He smiled faintly.
Then paused as something caught his eye—Varric was standing outside, back turned, sword drawn... staring toward the dark woods beyond.
Elias stepped outside.
"Trouble?"
Varric didn't look at him. "Something watches. Not holy. Not human. But waiting."
Elias swallowed. "Do we need to move?"
"Not yet." Varric turned, eyes still glowing faintly. "But the Queen's scent is returning to the world. She will draw monsters. And miracles."
Elias looked back at the window, where soft candlelight flickered behind a curtain.
"Then we'd better be ready."
To be continued…