There was a knock at the door. Groaning, Cobalt rubbed his eyes and sat up, squinting as he struggled to remember exactly where he was.

  He was in a bed within an unfamiliar, rundown room. The wallpaper was unpleasant and peeling in places, exposing raw plaster behind it, and the floorboards were old and mismatched. Paper-thin curtains had been drawn across the windows, doing little to stop the morning sun from casting its rays upon the meagre selection of furniture around him. A slumped desk, a beaten chair, an old wardrobe wedged in the corner. Blinking a few times, the Incubus glanced over at the suitcases piled next to it.

  It took him a few moments to remember just where he was, all the while the knocking grew more fervent.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming…” he yawned, heaving himself out of bed.

  Of course, it was all coming back to him now. The whirlwind of a day he had previously came back to him; it was no wonder he passed out the moment his head hit the pillow. To have started the day completely ignorant of the Mancer District and its five Covenants, and to end the day as the Head of Amrifni… It beggared belief.

  With most of the building vacant because of the Covenant’s low numbers, Cobalt was allowed to pick his own room. Heads were supposed to have their own private apartments apparently, but Amrifni didn’t have anything like that, not that he minded. He chose the most intact room he could find on the fifth floor, and after Roach futzed around with the wiring and patched a few holes in the walls, it was fit for living in.

  That being said, it wasn’t perfect. The wardrobe doors were stuck fast, and there was still a tiny little hole on the right-hand wall. As he crossed the room, Cobalt squinted at it. There was no light peeking through, so at least it didn’t go all the way through to the next room. He hoped.

  The knocking grew even louder.

  “I’m coming!” Cobalt called irritably, staggering over to the door.

  Turning the lock with a laboured grunt, he opened the door to find Lydia standing in the hall, her arms piled high with clothes and boxes.

  “Good morning, young master,” the Oni stated, pushing into his room.

  She wasn’t happy about him choosing such an isolated room; apparently the fifth floor had barely any people living on it. Not only that, but in order to live here, Lydia was being put to work by Baba. Housework, if the dust on her apron was anything to go by.

  “Here you are,” Lydia sighed, setting everything down on the bed.

  Raising an eyebrow, he looked back to find her sorting out a set of clothes for him; new ones, going by their cleanliness. Shoes, shirt, trousers, blazer… there was even a waistcoat.

  “Work clothes,” he mumbled, prompting Lydia to nod.

  “Have to look the part to play the part, young master,” she remarked, lifting the waistcoat up.

  The Amrifni crest had been embroidered upon the lapel.

  “Did… Did you do this yourself?” Cobalt asked, running his finger along the stitchwork.

  Nodding, Lydia began to open the boxes.

  “Gifts from Mistress Jezebel,” she remarked, stepping aside to let him at them.

  The first box was small, and contained an inert smartphone. Furrowing his brow, Cobalt picked it up and stared at his face reflected in its glassy surface.

  “Um… don’t I already have a mobile?” he asked, puzzled.

  “It’s far outdated. This will help you keep in touch better.”

  “A- Ah, I see. And what’s this…?”

  The second box was much larger and contained a beautiful violin. Eyes wide, the Incubus lifted it up, taking care to handle it gently.

  “This is amazing… But I don’t play the-”

  No.

  No, that wasn’t right.

  He did play the violin, a long time ago. He distinctly remembered that dream he had, where he had smashed it across the side of Cherry’s head.

  “You used to play so beautifully,” Lydia said, watching as he gingerly placed the violin down on the desk.

  “I did, didn’t I…?”

  Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and regained his composure.

  “Thank you, Lydia. I’ll be sure to put these to good use. I’ll just go ahead and get dressed now.”

  “As you wish, Master Cobalt.”

  Turning on his heel, he began to unbutton his nightshirt, only to realise that the Oni hadn’t moved. One eyebrow raised, he looked her up and down.

  “I’m getting dressed now,” he told her.

  “Very good,” came her reply.

  A moment of silence passed.

  “Lydia, I’m changing.”

  “Do you need help?”

  “N- No, I’ve got it.”

  “As you wish.”

  She still didn’t move.

  “… Lydia, please get out of my room.”

  The maid sighed.

  “If that is what you desire, young master.”

  Bowing politely, she stepped out the door and shut it behind her. Cobalt waited in silence for a few moments, but upon failing to hear the creaking of floorboards from the hall, he let out a slow, long-suffering sigh.

  “Lydia?” he asked aloud.

  “Yes, Master Cobalt?” the Oni asked, still standing behind the door.

  “Don’t you have anything else to be doing?”

  “You will always be my first priority.”

  “Yes, but I’ll be fine my myself, alright? Best get going before Baba notices you’re gone.”

  “She is not my master.”

  “Lydia, please.”

  He heard a short, sharp tut.

  “… If that is what you desire. Very well.”

  Finally, the Oni tromped away, leaving her ward in peace. Taking a deep breath of the dusty air, Cobalt continued to shed his nightclothes and began the long process of dressing himself. As he changed, he mused on what the duties of a Head would entail. From what he saw in the other Covenants, it seemed a largely managerial position, but it differed wildly from one Head to another. Rallen and Alyssa both seemed heavily involved in the goings-on of their Covenants, while Avery and Juliette took more of a laid-back approach, at least from what he could see. But they all seemed to have some manner of side business to keep themselves occupied, didn’t they?

  Wait… Amrifni was in need of money. Perhaps that was something he could look into while he was here…

  Once dressed, Cobalt grabbed the final piece of his ensemble and paused. It was a blue necktie, meant to complete the whole looked by adding a splash of his Covenant’s primary colour. But it didn’t feel right, at least not to him. Setting it aside, he instead put on his own tie; the ever-reliable grey with red stripes.

  Besides, he was blue all over. That would be enough.

  As he pinned his badge to his blazer, the back of the Incubus’ neck suddenly prickled. Whirling around, he stared hard at that tiny pinprick in the wall.

  For a split second he could see a glint of green. He blinked, and the darkness returned.

  A shiver ran up his spin, urging the Incubus to grab his cane and hobble out of his room as quickly as he could. Stepping out into the hall, Cobalt readjusted himself and made his way towards the bathrooms at the end of the hall. They were a communal affair, a tiled room with a few toilet stalls, showers and some sinks. At least Baba kept on top of keeping them clean; if there was one thing Cobalt couldn’t put up with, it was a dirty bathroom.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  As he slowly hobbled down the hall, however, the Incubus was surprised to see Roach sitting with his back against the wall, slumbering softly. For a moment, he thought he must have been working late on fixing the cracks in the wall, but there wasn’t a tool to be seen around him. Rather, the Oni was holding a small wooden box in one hand, and an old book of fairytales in the other.

  Stopping, Cobalt stooped down, wondering if he should wake the Oni. Though altruism told him that would be best, his curiosity quickly overtook it, and before he could stop himself, he picked up the little box and gently pried the lid open.

  Music began to play, prompting Roach to snort awake.

  “Wha- What- Huh? What’s happenin’?” he exclaimed sleepily as Cobalt slammed the lid shut.

  “A- Ah, um… Good morning, Mr. Gattson,” the Incubus stated, setting the box back down as he cleared his throat.

  Roach stared at him blearily and pushed his glasses up his nose.

  “Oh, right, yeah. Mornin’, Boss. Didn’t mean to pass out like that,” he yawned, climbing back to his feet.

  “I see… Rough night?”

  “Eh, kinda. Honestly surprised you slept through it.”

  “Slept through what…?”

  He lifting the book, Cobalt could see that it was an anthology of classic bedtime stories. He then nodded at the door just behind him.

  “We got a rough sleeper in here. Gets night terrors; real bad ones. Wexford wanted to move her, but I figured I could give this a go. Seems to do the trick.”

  Cobalt glanced down at the music box. It did indeed sound like a lullaby…

  “You… read to the students here?” the Incubus asked incredulously.

  “Nah, just this one. I- I don’t even think it’s the readin’ that settles her; I ain’t much good at tellin’ stories cuz of the dyslexifuckin’whatever. Senna thinks it’s just hearin’ a steady voice.”

  “I… see…”

  How oddly compassionate. Most nightmares could be fixed with the help of a Succubus psychomancer, but lacking that, it was apparently shown that just having someone close can help too. But to dedicate one’s entire night to ensuring another got a restful night’s sleep…?

  Perhaps there was some merit to this Covenant after all.

  “Good news is she’ll probably sleep ‘til noon, and classes haven’t started yet, so I can go to bed. Dunno what I’m gonna do once the year starts, though…” Roach murmured, tucking the book into the back of his belt as he picked the music box off the floor.

  “When is that, by the way?” Cobalt asked.

  “Start of the year? Uh… In a week, I think. Archdean holds this big assembly in the Stands, gets all the Heads to talk, that kinda thing. Oh, uh… you’ll probably need to prep a speech or somethin’, Boss. I- It’s basically in front of the whole district.”

  Cobalt’s heart sank into his shoes. He hasn’t even been here twenty-four hours and already he’s been served a tall order.

  “… Right. I’ll think of something.”

  “You’ll do fine, Boss. Oh, don’t miss breakfast. Baba only does one batch of bacon and it’s kind of a first-come, first-served sorta deal.”

  “I can’t eat cooked-”

  The Incubus took a deep breath.

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Roach. I’ll see you downstairs.”

  With a nod and wave, the Oni walked off in the direction of the stairwell, leaving Cobalt to clean up in the bathroom. Doubts and worries were already beginning to form, but after splashing some cold water onto his face, he looked into the cracked mirror and sighed.

  “… Get it together, Trayer,” he murmured, drying off on one of the towels.

  His neck prickled again. Someone was watching him.

  Whipping his head around, he gazed out of the bathroom door to find the hall still empty. Squinting, he could see that one of the doors lay slightly open.

  Specifically, the door to the room right next to his own. Feeling unnerved now, Cobalt shuddered and headed for the stairs.

  Best to put it out of his mind for now. It was his first day as Head, and he needed to make every second count.

  -----

  Arriving downstairs, Cobalt found that at least two dozen Amrifni students were already in the cafeteria, sitting at the various mismatched tables as they ate their breakfasts or worked on personal projects. Senna was down here too, keeping to herself with her hood drawn and her headphones on full blast. With nowhere else to go, Cobalt sidled on up to her and sat down in the opposite seat, much to her chagrin. The Nymph scowled and glanced up from her phone.

  “You know we’ve already met, right? No need to be all buddy-buddy,” she muttered unpleasantly as she sipped from an energy drink.

  Cobalt stared at the can.

  “Is… that your breakfast?”

  “Are you my mom?”

  “… Point taken.”

  She returned her attention to her phone, but Cobalt wasn’t done.

  “… So I ran into Roach on the way here,” he remarked, gazing at the cracks spidering across the far wall.

  “Oh yeah? Banshee didn’t scream him to death yet?” Senna remarked.

  “Banshee? Is that the student he reads to?”

  “Yup. Been here almost as long as we have.”

  “Why do you call her-?”

  “She screams. Constantly,” Senna interrupted, downing another swig of her drink.

  Setting the can back down on the table, she looked him in the eye.

  “Roach may be aramid on the outside, but he’s softer than mush on the inside. Can’t help himself but take in charity cases. I thought it’d be best to kick her out altogether,” the Nymph sighed, leaning back.

  “That seems a little callous, no?”

  “Well it’s either that, or having half the Covenant suffer the sleep deprivation. It’s not a hard choice to make, but Wexford’s got the fence wedged so far up his ass he’s liable to-”

  “My ears are burning Senna. It’s rude to mouth off, especially to our new Head,” spoke the sudden voice of Andre Castrel as he sat down beside the pair.

  She grumbled and shuffled away from him as he took a sip from the chipped mug of tea he held.

  “Good morning, Cobalt. How was your first night?” the Fallen asked, staring at him over the rim of his drink.

  “It was surprisingly comfortable. I’m still feeling a little tired, though.”

  “That’ll be thanks to Baba. Despite appearances, she manages to keep the essentials in top order. I can tolerate broken lights and cracked plasterboard; I will not suffer mouldy mattresses or cockroaches.”

  “Can’t talk about your best friend like that,” Senna mumbled mockingly.

  Rolling his eyes, Wexford nodded back at Cobalt.

  “Speaking of, I ran into Roach on the way down. He said he’s brought you up to speed on the Induction Ceremony.”

  “A- Ah, yes, well… He said I have to write a speech.”

  “‘Have to’ is a strong turn of phrase. You’re free to wing it if you’re able.”

  “I… should probably write up some flashcards, just in case.”

  “I could help you if you’d like. I’ve got some business to deal with in town today, but after six I should be free to-”

  Something smashed in the kitchen. Cobalt flinched, but everyone else carried on like nothing was happening. Concerned, the Incubus stood up, only for Wexford to give him a dismissive wave.

  “Don’t worry. Baba breaks plates almost as often as Senna passes kidney stones-”

  “HEY!”

  “- she’ll be fine.”

  Cobalt frowned.

  “Still… As Head, it’s my duty to ensure everything is running smoothly here. I promise I won’t be a second.”

  Rounding the table, Cobalt hobbled over to the kitchen door as quickly as he could, the creaking boards beneath his feet syncopating with the tapping of his cane. As another resounding crash echoed from within, he steeled his nerve and peeked inside.

  “Get out of kitchen, filthy beast!” screamed the Covenant’s resident housekeeper as a dirty glass went flying past the Incubus’ nose.

  Though offended for a moment, it didn’t take too long for Cobalt to realise that Baba’s ire was not directed at him. The matronly Succubus was frantically hurling crockery at something that was flapping around the rafters in a panic, scattering feathers as it narrowly avoided getting splattered against the ceiling.

  “Miss Baba?! Are you alright?” Cobalt called as she hurled a plate at the ceiling.

  “Do I look alright, stupid boy?!” she snapped, flinging more cookware.

  Swallowing hard, the Incubus focused his vision to find out just what she was trying to kill. A small bird with grey feathers, its wings tinged with green and blue.

  “… Is that a pigeon…?”

  “It is dinner soon!” Baba cried furiously, reaching for another pot.

  “Baba, wait! Don’t kill the poor thing!”

  “It’s filthy! Full of disease and plague!”

  “J- Just hold on a minute! Do you have any bread?!”

  “Bread?! You want to feed vermin?!”

  “Answer me!”

  With an inarticulate scream, she reached into a breadbin and tossed a full loaf directly at Cobalt. It hit him in the chest, nearly knocking him back into a counter as he struggled to catch it. Opening the bag, the Incubus raised a hand for Baba to calm down as he offered a slice up to the bird.

  “Easy now… easy…”

  The pigeon, realising it was no longer under fire, settled itself atop one of the wall cabinets. It gave Cobalt a sidelong stare, beady eyes glinting hungrily. It fluttered a little closer. Then a little closer.

  Holding his breath, the Incubus watched as the pigeon flapped down from its perch and onto his arm as it began to peck mercilessly at the bread slice.

  “Th- There we go,” he sighed, adjusting his arm to account for its weight.

  “Get it out!” Baba hissed, making rapid shooing gestures.

  Nodding shakily, Cobalt carefully maneuvered out of the Amrifni kitchen, taking care not to disturb the hungry little bird. He was getting plenty of strange looks – especially from Senna and Wexford – but with a deep breath, he blocked out their gazes and stepped out into the main hall.

  The bird cooed loudly and abruptly flew off into his face, causing him to splutter and drop the bread. Though worried that he was back at square one, the Incubus just had to turn around to find that was not the case.

  Someone else stood at the far end of the hall, clutching the pigeon as one would a beloved household pet. She was a Fallen, dressed in an oversized turtleneck sweater that looked to have been repaired by hand more than a few times, marked with a little blue patch displaying her Covenant's crest. Her white hair covered most of her face to the point where Cobalt couldn’t see her eyes, and her wings were bunched up like a startled bird. She didn’t say anything; she just stared at him through a curtain of hair while her mouth hung slightly agape.

  Relieved that he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the day running around the building, Cobalt gripped the cane tight and stepped closer to the Fallen.

  “I’m so sorry about that; I had no idea it was your pigeon.”

  He offered his hand.

  “I’m-”

  She flinched away from it, her stony feathers bristling. The Incubus frowned; something was up.

  “… I’m Cobalt Trayer. From today onwards, I’ll be your new Covenant Head.”

  The Fallen didn’t shake his hand. She didn’t even speak. She just kept staring, her chest rising and falling rapidly in panicked breaths.

  “Miss? Are you alright?” he asked, concerned for her health.

  He heard the familiar creaking of floorboards behind him. Glancing back, Cobalt saw Wexford emerge from the canteen, tea still in hand.

  “Everything okay out here?” he asked, leaning against the doorway.

  “Oh, yes, of course. I was just introducing myself to this-” Cobalt began, turning back to the stranger.

  She was gone. In her place, a single cartilage feather lay upon the floor. Frowning, he picked it up and rolled it between his fingers.

  “… If you couldn’t tell by now, this little paradise of ours tends to attract the district’s odder individuals. When we told you that Amrifni takes those who don’t belong in the other Covenants, we meant those who really didn’t belong,” Wexford explained with a sigh, as though he wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

  He took the feather from Cobalt’s hand and held it up to the light.

  “Who was that?” the Incubus asked.

  “Hm… Transferred here from Sucifenev, I think. Not very social. Barely eats, never talks, keeps to herself. Roach is better with people; I’d say he’d know more than me,” the Fallen said, flicking the feather to the floor.

  As he walked back towards the canteen, Cobalt couldn’t help but get a sinking sensation in his gut. That woman… something about her didn’t seem right. Whether it was the way her clothes just hung off her, or how terrified she seemed of him, he couldn’t get her image out of his head.

  “Do you know her name?” he asked over his shoulder.

  Stopping by the door, he took a thoughtful sip of his tea.

  “Hm… I’m not sure… Ellie? No, not that. Surname started with a W… No, a Y…”

  He snapped his fingers.

  “Ah, right, that’s it.”

  Turning to Cobalt, Wexford’s eyes glinted.

  “I believe her name is Elya Yalfre.”