Ashvale Guild Headquarters smelled like burnt parchment, cheap coffee, and stress. The kind of place where dreams came to be politely crushed beneath bureaucratic boots and signed off in triplicate.
Elias stood in front of Guildmaster Tyrin's desk, hands behind his back, sweating slightly through his collar. Behind him, Rhea sat cross-legged in a chair, trying to look small—which wasn't hard, since she was barely taller than a sword rack.
"Let me see if I have this straight," Guildmaster Tyrin said, slowly. His voice was the kind of tired that only decades of paperwork and broken adventurers could shape. "A former demon queen—reborn, feral, probably volatile—bonded to you. And your brilliant response was... to bring her home and teach her how to eat soup?"
Elias cleared his throat. "Well, it wasn't soup, it was stew. There's a difference."
Tyrin blinked at him. Slowly. Like a man deciding whether to fire someone or lob them into the sun.
"I'm not sure if you're brave," Tyrin said, "or just the dumbest healer to ever pass basic guild orientation."
From the corner, Rhea piped up, voice timid: "He's brave."
Elias looked over at her, smiling softly. "Thanks, kiddo."
She beamed back. Then turned to Tyrin. "And he's not dumb. I mean, he's kind of squishy and bad at directions. But not dumb."
Tyrin folded his arms. "That makes me feel so much better."
He turned back to Elias.
"You understand what you've done, yes?"
Elias nodded, hesitant. "Harbored an illegal entity. Lied to the Guild. Defied direct magical safety protocols. Also, accidentally fried Marek into a fruit stand."
"Don't forget the incident at the bathhouse."
"That one wasn't my fault!" Elias said quickly. "She was fascinated by bubbles. Who isn't?"
Tyrin sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're sheltering a demon. You know the law."
Elias shifted, the weight of those words pressing on his spine. "She's not a demon. She's a kid. Scared. Confused. Powerful, yes. But she's not evil."
"Yet."
"I'll make sure she doesn't get there."
Tyrin stared at him for a long time. The guildmaster's eyes were old—not with age, but with miles. They'd seen too many mistakes made in the name of kindness.
"You're a healer," Tyrin said, voice low. "You're supposed to fix things. Not make new problems."
Elias looked at the floor. "Sometimes... you have to heal something broken before anyone else sees it as worth saving."
Silence. Then a long, slow sigh from Tyrin.
"You leave me no choice."
Elias tensed. Rhea gripped the chair's armrests.
"You're demoted."
Elias blinked. "Wait, really?"
Tyrin raised an eyebrow. "Were you expecting exile?"
"…A little."
"You're being reassigned. No field missions, no monster bounties, no runecrafting duties. You'll handle sanitation, magical inventory sorting, and... educational outreach."
"Educational outreach?" Elias asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yes," Tyrin said flatly. "You're now responsible for the weekly 'Magic Safety for Sprouts' seminar."
Rhea clapped. "Yay! We get to teach kids!"
Elias groaned. "That class is taught in costume, isn't it?"
Tyrin smirked. "Hope you like wearing a sparkle-hat and glitter robes."
"I hate this timeline."
Tyrin leaned forward. "This is the best I can do without drawing attention from the Capitol Registry. You've made a mess, Elias. Now clean it up—and don't let that girl burn down any more fruit stands."
Rhea raised her hand. "What if it's, like, a really bad fruit stand?"
"No."
"Okay. Just checking."
They exited the Guild office and wandered toward the market district, Elias dragging his boots while Rhea skipped beside him.
"So," Rhea asked innocently, "what's 'educational outreach'?"
Elias muttered, "It's humiliation wrapped in glitter and regret."
Rhea tilted her head. "Can I wear a costume too?"
"…You're going to want to. They hand out enchanted wigs."
She gasped. "Do they sparkle?"
"With shame."
They passed a trio of guild apprentices who gave Rhea a wide berth. One of them whispered something under their breath.
Elias frowned, glancing down at her.
Rhea tried to smile. But he saw the way her fingers curled inward.
"They're scared of me," she whispered.
"They're just... unsure," Elias replied gently. "People fear what they don't understand. And you? You're a walking mystery wrapped in a cute cloak."
She sniffled. "What if they never like me?"
Elias gave her a crooked grin. "Then they'll be missing out. You're weird and terrifying and make people float when you sneeze—but also sweet and brave and trying your best."
She looked up at him, eyes glossy. "You mean it?"
"Course I do. Besides, I have to keep saying nice things or you'll level a bakery."
"That was one time."
"You iced the baker to the ceiling."
"He yelled at me!"
"You ate an entire custard pie off the display case!"
Rhea giggled, leaning against his side. "You're kind of a disaster, you know."
"Yeah," Elias said. "But I'm your disaster."
That evening, Elias returned home to find an envelope on his doorstep. No name. No seal.
He opened it cautiously.
Inside was a single rune-etched slip.
Watcher Eyes Have Noticed the Mark. Be Wary.
His stomach dropped.
"Watcher Eyes…" he whispered.
The Capitol's secret enforcers. Magic hunters who tracked unauthorized runes and demonic flares. Silent. Unstoppable.
Rhea peeked over his shoulder, blinking.
"Is that a love letter?"
He crumpled it quickly. "Nope! Just junk mail. You know, the usual 'please don't hide illegal magical entities in your rental property' spam."
She nodded sagely. "That's a weird mailing list."
Later, while tucking her into bed, Elias sat on the edge of the mattress, staring at the faint red glow on his palm.
The rune shimmered slightly in the dim light. Every day it seemed to evolve. Add layers. Respond to emotion.
It wasn't just a bond—it was a growing conduit.
"Elias?" Rhea whispered, curled beneath blankets, only her horns and eyes visible.
"Yeah, kiddo?"
"Are we gonna be okay?"
He looked at her. Small. Powerful. Broken and rebuilding all at once.
"Not sure," he admitted. "But if we're not okay, we'll get there. Together."
She reached out, tiny hand grasping his.
"You're still my home," she said sleepily.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "And you're still my favorite roommate who nearly vaporized a fruit cart."
She giggled.
As her breathing slowed into sleep, Elias sat by her side, watching the glow of the rune pulse like a heartbeat.
Tomorrow, they'd face the guild. The town. The enforcers. Whatever came.
But tonight?
They were just a healer and his demon girl.
And that was enough.
To be continued…